Becoming a Witness: Clarity and Closure

Entrance gate to Auschwitz I, view from exiting the camp

Last night a few of us were sitting in the lobby, preparing to turn in for the night. It was then that a young man came up to us, and hesitantly asked if he could take a seat and speak with us. The mans name was Frank, a German soldier visiting the center along with a tour group from his home city. His English was wonderful and he asked us who we were, and what had brought us to Poland. He was very curious, and asked us questions in regards to our faith. He then asked us what we felt about Germans visiting The concentration camps. The answer was easy. I turned to him and said that I felt it was wonderful that his people came to these places. 

This is a part of their history as much as the rest of ours. And they deserve the opportunity to learn about their ancestors. How they feel about what they see? Well that's a different story. Frank said that growing up, he never had a doubt about the Holocaust. He knew that it had happened. A viewpoint that was not shared by many of his peers. However, the truth dos not hit home with him until he visited the art exhibit underneath the Franciscan Church. After driving through the night from Hamburg, Frank's tour group arrived on Oswiecim and headed straight to the exhibit. From the exhibit to the camps. An emotional day to say the least. It was then that he told us that, as a soldier. He was very proud to be German and of the constitution they wrote after the Second World War. It was then that something shocking happened, something that may seem small to others. 

Photo Remembrance wall of life before the war, Auschwitz II Birkenau

But I know I will carry it with me always. Frank was speaking of how he felt as he walked through the art exhibition. "Seeing these horrors of what was done to these people. It makes it real for me. I never doubted the holocaust. But now it has become reality." He then broke down and began to cry. The moment was both sad and beautiful within itself. Here is a stranger, someone I have never met. And yet we had such a raw and open conversation. We may have only spoken for a few minutes. But I feel as if he has made a lasting handprint on my life and soul. And I couldn't imagine a more beautiful way to end this experience. This is not 1940. This is not a time for hate. This is 2016, a time for love. And while the world is not perfect. And evil still resides. It is moments like this that give me hope.

Group photo, Krakow

1 Month Later

It has now officially been one month since we touched back down on American soil. During this time, I have not been able to truly express my experiences to anyone outside of those who accompanied me. Whenever posed with the questions of "How was Poland?" or "Did you have fun?" I came up with a near scripted response. "I had a very nice time, thank you" I felt as though most of those asking me were just expecting a one or two sentence answer, and there was absolutely no way that I could condense such an experience into that small a statement, it would be an injustice. Only know have I been able to express myself to others. The other day I was sitting with one of my best friends, and he asked about my trip to Poland and how I was feeling. Without even thinking about it, it was as if a heavy gate opened up and I broke down. I talked for what felt like forever, finally being able to express the inner turmoil and confusion that I had been feeling over the things I had seen. 

When I finished my story, my friend just looked at me in disbelief, and it was then that I realized how insurmountably important what I had just done was. This was the leap forward I took to truly become a witness, the final step that will go with me as long as I live. I educated someone, I left them thinking, questioning. That was why I went to Poland, why I took this course. For that look on my friends face after I answered his question. Since then I have been able to talk to a few others, speaking about what I saw does not get easier with each retelling. But each time I share this knowledge, I am reaffirmed in why God put me in this place. With each word, each sharing of stories, I not only continue to be a witness, but I make others witnesses as well.