This past weekend I enjoyed a few days in Lublin, Poland. (This post is about the concentration camp there; I’ll have another post in a few days highlighting the positive aspects of my trip)
The primary reason for my visit was to see the former Nazi death camp located in the city. Visiting sites from the Holocaust is never easy, and it ought never be; however, Majdanek stood out from amongst the others I’ve seen as it served as one of the most heart wrenching experiences of this journey to date.
What was different? This camp stood out to me due to the state in which portions of it have been either preserved or restored over time. While there’s still a great deal that was destroyed, what remains serves to contextualize how big the camp was and historical accounts, stories, and a few pictures appear on markers throughout the site, helping passersby to gasp a small glimpse of understanding of how squalid and inhuman the conditions of the camp and treatment of the prisoners were. Majdanek stood out as it highlighted not only the plight of those imprisoned, but went even further to describe a few of the many specific ways in which the Nazis would mentally, physically, and emotionally abuse those in the camps. While I have made a point of traveling to these locations to study the plight of Holocaust victims and the Jewish community in Poland, after spending about two and a half hours at the camp, I couldn’t bring myself to read another description of the horrors that had taken place in the exact spot I was standing, only a few generations ago. I saw the smoke stack and the furnaces, I walked through the fields and a few of the barracks, I read the stories that serve to describe only a small portion of all that took place.
I won’t detail them specifically here, boundaries are important to respect and Facebook isn’t an appropriate medium to share details of such unimaginable hatred and suffering. There’s a balance to be observed, a happy medium to be found. We must remember history without finding ourselves captured by the horrors of the past. We must learn from the past without reliving it so we can ensure it will not live again, in the future. What’s important to consider is whether or not a willful intent to learn is present. You may wonder how I decide what to share. I’m keenly aware that many of you simply don’t want to know the details of this reality; I don’t want to expose you to a reality you rather remain ignorant of, as it’s neither my place nor my intent to do so. Bearing this in mind, I do want to share my very rudimentary understanding of how authentic and unimaginable the reality of Nazi Occupation was. I want to share an awareness, one that should push you towards a degree of discomfort while refraining from causing one to become profusely sad or depressed. This is history, but it’s also a reality of what was. We must never relive, yet we must always remember.
Comments
Post a Comment