The city must completely disappear from the surface of the earth and serve only as a transport station for the Wehrmacht. No stone can remain standing. Every building must be razed to its foundation. Warsaw is known as the "Phoenix City" because it has been destructed and rebuilt numerous times. It has some of the best museums we've ever visited. We spent hours learning about the history of Polish Jews, the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, the Polish underground resistance, and the Warsaw uprising. We learned that in retaliation to the courageous, yet doomed, Warsaw uprising in the summer of 1944 (which was supposed to last 48 hours but persisted for 63 days), Hitler ordered the city to be razed to the ground. The Historic Old Town, Royal Castle, and 85% of the city were destroyed. Today the Historic Old Town has been rebuilt. Check out the movie The Pianist, which takes place in Warsaw and is based on the autobiography of Polish-Jewish pianist, composer, and Holocaust survivor Władysław Szpilman.
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Monsters exist, but they are too few in number to be truly dangerous. More dangerous are the common men, the functionaries ready to believe and to act without asking questions. ~ Primo Levi, Holocaust survivor Outside of Krakow is the former Nazi Germany concentration and extermination camp, Auschwitz-Birkenau. Today, the remains of the camp serve as a memorial and museum, bearing witness to the atrocities that occurred there. You enter the camp under a sign proclaiming "Arbeit Macht Frei" - "Work Sets You Free" - a horrifically ironic message which hung over the entrance of several Nazi concentration camps. A cattle car sits on the railroad tracks and barbed wire runs everywhere. Entering a brick building, you walk through a long hall of prisoner identity photographs taken in 1941. You read the humanizing details: nationality, age, occupation, prisoner category, death dates (so many killed one day after arriving, one day after that photograph was taken), and notice people's profound expressions of intense fear, horror, numbness, and defiance. You then file through rooms filled with the prisoners' belongings, many were possessions they brought believing they were going to a labor camp and would one day return home: countless pieces of luggage, kitchen items, hairbrushes, glasses, shoes, handicap assistive devices, thick braids of hair... The contents and their sheer quantity testify to a horrific reality that overwhelms and suffocates the space. Outside the mist has enclosed the camp, giving an eerie sense that the barracks, fences, and watch towers go on forever. And yet, the guide reminds you that this massive space, capable of housing hundreds of thousands of prisoners, only represents the minority of human beings that arrived at Auschwitz. The mind wrestles with spatial reasoning and the number of those murdered begins to occupy physical space. From 1940-1945, 1,300,000 people were deported to Auschwitz, including: 1,100,000 Jews, 140,000-150,000 Poles, 23,000 Roma, 15,000 Soviet Prisoners of War, and 25,000 prisoners from other ethnicities. One million, one-hundred thousand of these prisoners perished in the camp. Ninety percent of them were Jews, the majority of whom were murdered by the Nazis in the gas chambers. I have read dozens of books about WWII and the Holocaust. As we made our way through the camp, I imagined the presence of those I'd read about: This is where Anne Frank would have disembarked, where Lale Sokolov would have been tortured, where Priska, Rachel, and Anka kept their pregnancies secret from Doctor Mengele, where... In the face of so many camp horrors, my brain fixated on the hardship I could grapple with: the weather. Wearing a hardy winter coat, two hats, and two pairs of socks, I was aghast imagining how people managed to stay alive through winters here with little more than thin clothes and minimal footwear. This suffering alone was simply unfathomable. At the end of the day I was numb and left wrestling with these thoughts:
To walk through Auschwitz-Birkenau is to bear witness to humankind's inhumanity to humankind. The world desperately needs the victims' cries of despair to not have been in vain and to serve as a warning to humanity that we heed and act upon. Today, dangerous rhetoric is normalizing bigotry toward oppressed people and endangering their lives. If we're truly committed to "Never Again," we must be vigilant of the words, actions, and events that unfold along the way. We need to recognize and call out the otherizing taking place in our own current realities and critically address fear-mongering, dehumanization, and demonization, even on the smallest of scales. There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest. ~ Elie Wiesel, Holocaust Survivor We got off the train and stepped into freshly fallen snow. As we walked through Krakow's city streets in the pre-dawn, there was hardly a soul in sight. It was as if we had the city to ourselves. [For the first twenty minutes this was quite lovely, but then reality started sinking in: it was cold, we couldn't check into our hostel for another seven hours, and it was Christmas, so we didn't know if anything would be open! How long would we be wandering these streets? Who planned this?] We walked through Planty Park (left), which encircles the Old Town wall and exists where the city's moat used to be. Too bad they filled it in! Then we encountered the Barbican (right), a fortification with seven turrets and walls over 3 meters thick that was built in 1499 to defend the city from a possible Turkish-Italian attack. You really got the sense that Krakow knew how to protect itself. With over 120 Roman Catholic places of worship, Krakow is known as the city of churches and "Northern Rome." Not to mention, Pope John Paul II was an archbishop here. Saint Mary's Church is located in the main market square. Every hour (even throughout the night), a trumpet signal is played from the church’s tallest tower. The first time we heard it I was caught off guard by how the signal breaks off suddenly and awkwardly mid-stream. We later discovered this is in remembrance of a 13th century trumpeter who sounded the alarm when Mongols were attacking Krakow. He was shot in the throat while signaling the invasion. Of course there were more Christmas markets in the main market square. A guide pointed out that Christmas markets are NOT a Polish tradition. They started popping up because they are so popular with tourists. Located at the heart of the main market square, the Krakow Cloth Hall (below) used to be a hub of international trade, bustling with merchants exporting salt, textiles, and lead in exchange for spices, wax, silk, and leather. Today's merchandise contains many souvenirs and that seemed less cool. Krakow has a castle on a hill and it was lovely. Matt got his Christmas wish when it started snowing while we were there. We were thankful for the tour guide who worked on Christmas, claiming he needed an excuse to get away from his family and all of the food for a little while. Most importantly, we visited Schindler’s Factory, made famous by the movie Schindler’s List. Today the enamel factory is a museum devoted to sharing the story of Nazi occupation of Krakow.
Krakow was a really neat city full of history of which we only scratched the surface. I would highly recommend visiting, but perhaps come when it's warmer. “I like trains. I like their rhythm, and I like the freedom of being suspended between two places, all anxieties of purpose taken care of: for this moment I know where I am going.” ~ Anna Funder, Stasiland: Stories from Behind the Berlin Wall Saying "Goodbye" to Prague, on Christmas Eve we boarded an overnight train to Krakow, Poland. Traveling on overnight trains is such a unique experience and it always feels like a good deal when you can combine the cost of transportation with lodging! Each person received a complimentary bag with slippers, earplugs, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. It's amazing how these small gestures can feel so comforting. The small compartment packed a lot into a tight space. We had two bunks with bedding and somehow there was even a third bunk that could be pulled out from the wall for an additional person. We were impressed with the sink, which was squeezed into the back corner. While I was excited by the accommodation, I don't think I'm ready for a tiny house. Admittedly, the ride itself was not very smooth and in the middle of the night I groggily calmed myself down by focusing on how I had never read about trains running off the tracks in the Czech Republic, so this simply wasn't going to happen. We received a sleepy wake-up call (knock on the door) at 5:50 am to begin our Christmas day and wished that the adventure didn't have to end so soon. Perhaps we should add a long train journey to our bucket list... We heard that Munich would shut down around Christmas, so we took a bus to Prague to see if it would offer a little more excitement. It did not disappoint! Prague was magical, decked out for Christmas with lights and more squares full of markets serving svařák (mulled wine) and trdelník, a cinnamon and sugar spiral pastry that is cooked over charcoal. Turns out that neither of these treats are traditional Czech food, they are just very popular with tourists, of which there were many! There were a few nativity scenes and we even saw two small stalls with sheep and donkeys, but alas, no camels. Highlights included climbing the tower to overlook the city square at night, taking in the beautiful architecture, and wandering the curvy streets. We also spent some time learning about how WWII unfolded in Czechoslovakia and explored the underground below the main city square (below, right) where resistance fighters would meet. Here's what we learned:
With Christmas approaching, I've found myself seeking out a few tangible things that have always been woven into the Christmas season for me. I've baked cookies, listened to the holiday music channel with the crackling fire, replicated the fireplace by resting my back against the glorious radiator, and found wonder in the quiet peacefulness of riverside walks through the rare, but beautiful, freshly fallen snow. Even though we won't be celebrating with a sliver of our usual traditions this year, it has been fun to be in the midst of a German tradition - Christkindlmarkt (Christmas markets)! While Christmas markets are held throughout Europe (and beyond), I've heard they originated in Germany. Munich, which has held such markets since at least 1310, may not be on any "top ten" list for Christmas markets, but the ambiance has been festive and cozy without going over the top. During the last week in November, cheerful little wooden huts popped up in the main city square, as well as in several smaller neighborhood plazas. Perusing the street stalls you'll see anything from Bavarian delicacies, ornaments, wool clothes, nativity scenes, honey candles, wax stamps, and primitive hunting bows. We've been tempted by the delicious smelling Mandeln (candied, toasted almonds) and have enjoyed drinking different kinds of Glühwein (hot mulled wine). Here are some scenes out and about Munich. The markets are within a half hour walk of each other. Merry Christmas!Do you know what a foreign accent is? It’s a sign of bravery. ~ Amy Chua Ich heiße Kate. Ich komme aus der US und ich wohne in München. Ich lese und jogge sehr gern. (My name is Kate. I come from the US and I live in Munich. I like to read and jog.)
I just wrapped up a very short, but intensive German course. On the first day, memories of learning Spanish came flooding back. Have you been there? The deer in the headlights look when you have no idea what Señora/Frau/Madam is saying, frantically (but oh so subtly) looking around to see what everyone else is doing, being too embarrassed to admit that you still have NO IDEA what is going on, dreading speaking in front of your peers, not to mention, inaccurately translating the text and providing an outrageous answer. I also remember the sweet, euphoric feeling when the light goes on after a great amount of struggling. It all came rushing back to me this past month as I got to experience the joys and struggles of learning a language once again. My dozen classmates hailed from all over the place - Belarus, Boston, Cape Verde, Nigeria, Japan, Quebec, Russia, Saudia Arabia, Syria, and Turkey - and were learning German for multiple reasons. I'm going to share them here, so I don't forget: - The Belarus girl is studying foreign tourism in university and learning German will expand her skills and qualifications in her field. - The 65-year-old Boston man (who shockingly had witnessed both 9/11 in New York and the Boston Marathon bombing) was moving to Munich with his German wife to help take care of her aging parents, one of whom has Alzheimer's. - The Cape Verde girl met and later married a German boy who visited her island country. To become a permanent resident in Germany, you must have a Level C 1 or 2 proficiency. - The Nigerian principal's school has a sister partnership with the language institute and she was encouraged to take a course. I connected with her over her county's beloved author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. - The Japanese man works in the auto industry and was recently relocated to Munich. He is required to learn both German and English for his work. His family will be joining him this spring and his kids will be attending a bilingual Japanese school. - Two young-ins from Syria and Saudia Arabia are seriously studying German with hopes that within a few years they will pass the necessary language exam so they can study in German tech universities. - As for me, I'm hoping to learn enough German for basic interactions. My stretch goal is learning enough to qualify for some education positions in bilingual schools. Back home, I teach English as an additional language. As I've been reacquainting myself with how exciting, hopeful, and terrifying it feels to be a level 0 language student, I was reminded of my elementary immigrant students. It is mentally exhausting sitting through four hours of German and studying outside of class in order to keep up. How do my newcomers back home handle a full day of school? I had the luxury that almost all of my classmates understood English and the teacher would occasionally use my home language to clarify a point. Many of my students back home do not have this comfort (In my school alone I would have had to pick up Hmong, Arabic, Somali, Karen, Karenni, Lao, Pashto, French, Hindi, and Mon). I regularly ask my English learners to try their best, to be brave as they share their ideas, to speak in longer and stronger sentences, and to be ok with making mistakes. Now that I'm in their shoes as a student, I'm struggling to be as vulnerable as I ask them to be! In class I get to make mistakes in front of peers who are at an equivalent German level and we sometimes laugh together, connecting through a shared struggle: "You just said you bought the parents at 8 o'clock." "Nein, nein, nein, that's not what I meant." My English learners risk more socially when they speak up because they risk making mistakes in front of their fluent peers. They are brave and inspiring, reminding me that the least I can do is attempt the very things I asked of them. “The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” ~ Ludwig Wittgenstein Apologies for the hiatus in posts! Waiting on my work visa to be finalized, I decided to devote December to studying German and it has been time consuming (in a good way). Before coming to Munich, I knew that I wanted to put forth some effort into learning the language because I realized it would enrich my time here. When we've traveled before, we've tried to pick up a few helpful phrases as we passed through countries (hello, please, thank you, toilet, how much). For sure, language barriers have always presented unique, often logistical challenges. However, now that we're not just traveling through a country, but living in it, the language barrier goes beyond the surface level and I feel the depth of just how limited my world is by not knowing German.
I should state right now that most Germans I've encountered (on the street, in the grocery line, restaurants, etc.) have at least a basic understanding of English (and for younger people especially, even fluency). That makes things mostly pretty comfortable for us. However, there are other parts of life that are truly limited due to our lack of Deutsche. Let's start with making friends. Matt works for a German company that officially operates in English (with a lot of German on the side). Yet he is the only native English speaker in the group. I've been to two work events and it is an awkward experience to approach a group of people only to have them switch from speaking German to English on my behalf. I appreciate the inclusivity, but I wish they didn't have to cater to me like that and I know it comes at a cost. Matt's colleague shared that it is exhausting for him to speak with Matt in English all day. It's interesting (ok, depressing) to ponder what friendships won't be formed due to my lack of German. [What if a best friend is out there but we just can't communicate with one another?!] Another example is faith life. We would like to find a church community here that we could really become involved with. While there are a few English speaking congregations, they are quite limited, and we know there must be some better fits for our faith walk within some German speaking congregations. I find myself dreaming of foreign language translator devices, which could at least enable us to be active listeners, if not participants... Finally, I am hoping to volunteer with an organization working with refugees. However, many of the positions ask that you at least have a basic understanding of German. I get it. I do. And yet, it is frustrating to finally have the time and energy but be lacking a crucial qualification. In these ways, the inability to speak the local language constrains us from living our fullest lives. This reality is a huge motivator to learn German. |