Sachsenhausen

A heads up to any followers and my future self: this post is emotional, personal, and a continuous train of thoughts. I have yet to use this blog as a "diary entry" for my feelings. However, I needed this post as an opportunity to let my mind flow and use writing as a therapeutic technique.

Today we visited Sachsenhausen, a preserved concentration camp that was used during WWII. During the week I knew we had this excursion coming up, however I did not mentally prepare myself for an emotional experience; I was interested in the history.

Sachsenhausen is in Oranienburg, just north of Berlin. I get on the S bahn and immediately see other Fubis (the new term I now use for other people in the Free University Best program). They were not being nearly as obnoxious as usual. "This is odd", I thought. I go to socialize and everyone is talking about how they are not enthused or ready for this day.

We arrive to the outside of the camp/museum and everyone looks sick. They all take deep breaths before entering, almost as if trying to calm their nerves.
As we enter, there are a few maps and posters with historical blurbs. We walk further and go into the museum portion. There were stories, artifacts, and video clips. None of them being too gruesome or describing particularly to death. "This is not so bad", I think to myself. But this place was much bigger than I expected.  After the museum there was a gate we had to walk through that opened to fields, barracks, medical houses, prisons, mass graves, and even a gas chamber.  

This concentration camp was not originally intended for mass murder. It was originally called Oranienburg used by theSchutzstaffel (the Nazi body guards) as a place of persecution for prisoners. It was labeled as a "working camp". But as the war went on, practices became worse.  Oranienburg closed down and was replaced with Sachsenhausen. As the Nazis became stronger, they had to move their camps. Oranienburg was in the city, and Sachsenhausen was in the outskirts.They did not want locals and travelers to see the state in which prisoners were being treated.
After WWII, the torture did not stop there. The Soviets took over the camp and actually used it for former Nazi soldiers and undesirable politicians. The camp was not liberated and shut down until 1950.


I wonder around all over the camp, taking up the historical information and also observing the people around me. Fubis are trickling around, most of them by themselves. They all look miserable when reading the pamphlets and walking into the rooms where once there laid thousands of corpses. I observed the other tour groups (many Spaniards and British). But most of all I tried to observe the Germans. They did not look to be sad or flabbergasted. I am not sure if this gives truth to the stereotype that Germans try to hide their emotions. Or maybe they were angry? Maybe there was a biased in the history? Maybe they remember their experiences or had influence from their relatives? Maybe it was a part of history they don't want to remember. I run into one of our German student assistants. She tells me how much she hates this place and briefly explains how her father was imprisoned in the camp when it was run by the Soviets. Maybe, like her, there was resentment and hate for the Soviets and/or their own homeland?

As I am trying to decipher their feelings, I reflect upon my own. A few of my Fubi friends cried at some points, others looked depressed and sullen.
I did not cry. I did not feel depressed. Am I a horrible person for not feeling such emotions? Am I cold hearted for not having an upset countenance? Was I in denial and not letting myself break down? I became  insecure because I was not displaying emotional symptoms.

After some sort of inner, frantic battle with myself, I believe I came to some sort of conclusion with my  feelings. I was uncomfortable at some points of the museum,  and a few pictures/rooms tugged at my heart. But overall, I felt some sort of hope. My heart reached out for those who suffered, including soldiers, prisoners, and families. I also felt hope that history has taught mankind a lesson. I felt grateful that historical places like these are preserved. While many wish to forget, we must remember those who suffered.

We must not judge nations for their past. There is still tension between the Germans and the Russians, especially amongst the older generation. To sway off topic a bit, a few days ago Blake and Paz came over to make dinner with me for Christine. We made an awesome eggplant parmesean and of course talk politics over dinner. We have a great discussion. Paz, Blake, and I all poke fun at American politics. We talk about it's faults and give our opinion about how Germany is better than the States in many ways. (For example: the Afghanistan war, capitalism, green technology ect). But for every argument we have, Christine has a counter argument. "But if the US had not invaded Afghanistan, what would have happened? They were becoming so powerful, so fast." ..."America brought democracy into the world, where would the world be if that idea of government had never been introduced?"

My time in Germany has opened my eyes politically, historically, religiously, culturally, and emotionally. We all may criticize government/politics or a nation's past. But, there was always a reason or incentive why something has ever happened. We just may not all agree that they were good reasons or moral incentives. I think it is difficult for people to understand diplomatic methods or history if they have not traveled or interacted with culture. Being an American, it is easy to be an "Ugly American" and criticize and make judgments, whether it be about our own county or another. However much we criticize, history has and will continue to happen.  Some has been ugly, some beautiful. Some could have been changed, other times it was out of our hands. I hope humanity has learned and continues to learn not only from history, but from each other.

To my future self, I am grateful to have this space for my thoughts, and I thank those who take the time to read about my feelings and experiences. I was against the idea of a blog, but after the persuasion of a few friends (you know who you are), I am happy that I came through with one.