Auschwitz

Today I went to Auschwitz.
I don't really know where to start. I haven't even had enough time to let the sights and feelings sink in. Auschwitz is a painful place. What words can describe the millions murdered with that terrible efficency? What sounds can be put together to faithfully communicate the impression of that bleak place? I don't know. I haven't got them. Instead I can tell you that I felt like someone had punched me square in the chest. That this punch refused the laws of physics and instead of recoiling, it remained. A constant and choking pressure, forcing breath from my lungs and tears to my eyes. I don't think I have any Jews amongst my ancestors. But I am human. And the hurt of Auschwitz is a hurt to humanity too. And I feel it.

You all know the history. I needn't repeat it. But I did learn something today that made my heart ache a little bit more. Today I learned that the prisoners in Auschwitz referred to the warehouses containing all their precious and worldly belongings as "Canada". They called it this because, like the nation which was a promised land, it was full of riches. How terribly odd it is to see my homeland's name imprinted on pictures adorning those haunted walls. How much worse to think of the desperate hope those prisoners had, that one day they may reach that land with their lives and belongings intact. How much sadder is it when the faces in the pictures then cease to be flat collections of ink shapes and become ghosts of breathing people with fears and hopes and dreams.

I don't think I will sleep well tonight.