Our guide at Auschwitz repeatedly asked our group if there were any questions, or if anything was left unclear. Repeatedly and consistently, silence followed and nobody dared speak up. But we all undoubtedly had the same question on our minds, and we all knew better than to ask it. “WHY!?!” screamed our inner-consciousness at every horrible anecdote recounted, every cold and dreary barrack entered and with every single tear we held back. I still can’t process all the things I saw. It was too much. My roommates and I have had a difficult time coming to terms with all we witnessed, mostly not being able to understand how the entire world was unaware of the horror ensuing. And I think the conclusion I finally came to yesterday, a little over 24 hours after our visit, is that what took place at Auschwitz and Terezin and Dachau and all the other concentration camps is something so beyond anything comprehensible by a rational human being. When humanitarian groups like the Red Cross visited concentration, labor and extermination camps, they never could have imagined the atrocities being committed— Never could they have fathomed that the building looming in the distance was used to burn corpses, or the hospital on the premises was used for everything but saving lives. Again, it was all far too much to take in.
The most difficult part for me occurred at Auschwitz I, in an exhibit displaying objects confiscated from the victims upon arrival. First off, they had on display all the hair removed from victims post-humously. It was a massive, massive collection—I believe about two tons total, extremely sickening and chilling in its own right. But what really got me, and what really put me over the edge was seeing the collection of Jewish prayer shawls. And it’s weird because I didn’t expect to go to Auschwitz of all places and feel connected to Judaism. But at that moment, the entire reality was put into a different context and it was no longer just a part of human history, but a part of my own history as well. Nobody else noticed the shawls like I did—they were simple… Not ornate in any way, could’ve been tablecloths. But I knew they weren’t and I knew why they were there. The innocence and pure purpose of the tallit had been completely desecrated. It really humanized all the victims for me. It’s too easy to forget or not be able to process the significance of the number six million, or be unable to fathom the lives in a photo of the aftermath of a mass-execution… but when something as simple as a prayer shall was defiled and disgraced it immediately made me think about who the person who owned it was. And what their faith in religion was before the Nazis. And what types of ordeals they had to experience without their prayer shawls to comfort them. And, most poignantly, how horrible it is that those very shawls were symbolic of why they were interned in the first place.
It really deeply, deeply saddens me. The entire visit just downright hurt my soul. Absolutely the most important place I have ever visited.