My Intrepid Travels

There are many places and experiences that stand out in my mind as one that I’ll never forget. I’ve traveled extensively throughout Europe, North America and the South Pacific, but no experience resonates more with me than when I visited the Auschwitz Birkenau Memorial.

On a recent trip to Sydney, the events of that day resurfaced when I went to the Jewish Museum. It was here that I met Lotte Weiss, a Czechoslovakian Holocaust survivor, who shared her story.

A group had gathered around and all were silent as she delved in and recounted her harrowing tale of hardship. As I sat there and listened, I found my mind wandering back to that bitterly cold winter’s day when I came face-to-face with a haunting reminder of just how destructive we as humans can be.

I was reminded of the dark and musky gas chambers that protruded from grassy mounds where at any one time up to 700 men, women and children would lose their lives.

I was reminded of the communal cement toilets where the women would socialise, and the barren shelters where cold drafts would seep through the gaps in the wooden planks, often leaving prisoners with fatal illnesses.

I was reminded of a suitcase with a birth date that indicated the owner to be no more than one year of age upon arrival, and the millions of strands of hair that were once combed by young girls and women that now lay idle behind a glass window.

I was reminded of a sign that hung in the entrance, giving those who walked under it hope that one day they would be able to leave that place and would be set free.

But most importantly I was reminded that at the end of that day I got to walk back through those gates, unlike the millions of men, women and children who were never given that freedom.

When she had concluded, we asked a few questions and it was brought up that my sister and I had gone to Auschwitz. She looked at the both of us and asked, “Why did you go?”

My answer then was that I didn’t know, and it’s true. But on further reflection I’m glad that I went. Not in the sense that I enjoyed going to a place where such a horrible act occurred, but for me it was the stories of hope that came from this desolate site that persuaded me to go.

There’s no possible way that I could ever imagine the hardship they endured, but I believe that it serves as a reminder to everyone, including future generations, of both the destructive nature of humans and the power of determination.

It’s a day I’ll never forget.