Kenz and I now sit in
a studio apartment in Zagreb, reflecting on our time in both Germany and
Austria. Germany was an added country to our original plan, and now realize
what an important addition it was. After leaving Switzerland and arriving in
the complicated Munich Metro Station, our initial interactions with Germans
happened within minutes. The puzzled Californian stamp we must have unknowingly
on our foreheads prompted two different natives to physically walk us in the
direction of our train. I am not kidding you, but every single time we are
confused involving different forms of transportation, a kind, English speaking
European is always within earshot and willing to go out of their way to help.
The gratitude I feel whilst witnessing the kindness of strangers in these
situations fills me with such enormous amounts of appreciation.
After maneuvering
through the underground tunnels like a couple of lost gophers, we immerged in
the center of Munich by night and were surprised by the beauty and the feeling
of the cold, frigid air punching us in the face. Kenz describes this feeling perfectly. She explained it as though your face hurts so badly from the wind chill that it feels almost bruised.
Needless to say, our luck with weather had finally come to a close. In Munich
we stayed with Vitus, Eveline’s nephew, who welcomed us into his apartment with
olives, pistachios, and our first genuine German beer that was the perfect
ending to a cold, travel-filled day. We settled into bed that night with the
knowledge that our trip to Dachau the next morning would be a hard touch of
reality.
As we arrived in the
small town of Dachau by train, we both verbalized the eeriness of seeing the
name written on the station as though it was just a small town without the
weight of what happened not so very long ago. We walked alone for about an
hour, reading signs and watching a short film that left us both choking back tears.
We then met up with our tour guide and a smattering of other English speakers,
and began the journey through the camp. Our guide, whom voluntarily takes the
time to educate groups of people, stressed the grave importance he feels to
speak to people of all ages about the Holocaust and about Dachau, the very
first, and model camp for the rest of the thousands of camps that spread
throughout Europe.
My memory of the tour,
now over a week later, consists of the hum of the thick German accent of our
guide and my mind and body feeling numb and achy as we walked through every
room, hallway and chamber we toured. At one point, we stood in the main square,
Kenz and I looked at each other using the unspoken language we have now
acquired, to insinuate how cold we were. Simultaneously, he shared with us that
the prisoners would stand where we stood, in a couple feet of snow, with wooden
shoes, and striped pajamas for twelve hours daily. Our complaints felt trivial. In fact, any
complaint I have ever had in twenty-three years was inconsequential and trite
compared to the hell the victims of the Holocaust lived every single day. It’s
impossible to leave as the same person you were when you entered.
At the end of the tour
we left feeling physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, and I couldn’t
help but realize the huge responsibility I felt as a future educator.
Unfortunately, the world has not quite learned its lesson from the twelve years
the Holocaust lasted, and different countries have discovered other
concentration camps in more recent years. What stops history from repeating
itself? Educating each generation on the gravity of decisions. Making these
moments in history relevant to each child, when it may seem more and more like
a story in the history books as the gap between generations widens. Teaching
empathy and the power of standing up for what you believe in, and what is
inherently right, needs to counteract what is being fed by the violent media
and negativity that is being ingested when a child picks up a video game that
rewards points for killing.
With a heavy heart we
left, and me with the awareness of the very important role I have in teaching
history in the classroom.
Our next day in
Germany was spent walking around, taking in the beauty of the architecture and
greatly appreciating how prompt and timely every single train, metro and bus
runs. This country runs like clockwork and with streets so clean you could
probably eat your hearty, meaty meals directly off the sidewalk. We explored
the modern art museum that had an entire section on old cars and the timeline
of computers, that both excited me and made me miss and yearn to hear
conversations between my dad and brother that has second-handedly educated me
far more then I realized.
Kenz and I had an
important and educating stay in Munich, and both agreed it’s a city we could
have stayed in and explored for longer then we did. Germany was full of incredibly
lovely people, and we had the opportunity to experience insightful
conversations that left us with food for thought. We then ventured to the snow
and delicacies in Austria where Kenz will summarize our lovely stay there…
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