I think the most valuable traveling related wisdom I have been able to gather in my life is "Choose thine partner wisely." Nothing is more miserable than being stranded in a foreign environment with someone who has an incompatible travel style. All those out there who started traveling when they were young and at the mercy of the cruel master of fate to choose your companions, you know what I'm talking about. It can get ugly.

I'm generally considered a "Type A" personality. I get teased about my crazy perfectionistic tendencies a lot. However, when I'm traveling I'm not the type to have EVERY SINGLE MOMENT planned. I can't handle that kind of pressure. I usually pick one or two things I would like to get around to that day and leave everything else in the hands of The Almighty, so to speak. For me, the most important things to look for in a travel companion is #1: Ability to maintain one's independence and #2: Ability to maintain a comfortable silence. These may seem odd to some, but I don't deal well with clinginess or nonstop talking. I'm an extrovert, so I'm all about the social interaction, but I need margins. I can't maintain a sustained conversation for days on end. I'm also not afraid to go do something on my own if the two parties don't particularly have the same idea for the day. For instance, because I'm somewhat of an insomniac, sometimes I like to get up at crazy hours in the morning to take pictures or a walk or sit in a coffee shop and watch the city wake up. I understand that most other humans do not have this burning desire and I'm okay with that.

Back in 2004, Katie and I decided to go visit Tasci in Prague to get away from everything for a while (For the record, Kate is an excellent travel partner). While Tasci was our thorough and devoted tour guide for the Czech Republic, there were a few days on our itinerary allotted to branching out into the great eastern european unknown. For whatever reason I had decided before I even left for europe that I HAD to visit Auschwitz. To be honest, I still have no clear recollection of making this decision, but I remember feeling strongly about it. Because Katie is gracious, she agreed to make the eight hour train ride to Krakow, Poland (Home of Pope JPII, by the way). Looking back I don't feel too badly for this because Krakow is absolutely enchanting. I loved everything about that tiny little town...including the 10lbs I lost because we decided to go cheap and skip the public transport passes. We also met two very fun, very nice young gentlemen in our hostel lounge (strictly friendly, no funny business) who turned out to be very fun travel companions themselves. I still receive occasional emails from Pekka, the very tall Finnish boy who wore mittens and walked like a robot. He ended up making the trip back to Prague with us.

Visiting Auschwitz/Birkenau was one of those deeply profound experiences I hesitate to even write about. Arriving at the camp it is surprisingly inconspicuous. Being an American I am quite accustomed to historical sites being marked with giant signs and plaques nailed to every possible flat surface. There was a tiny little building that housed the tour guide booth, a movie theater, and a very small cafe. One thing that struck me as soon as we walked in was the silence. Tiny groups of people stood huddled together with their language identifying stickers prominently displayed on their jackets, but no one spoke over a hushed tone. We were all lead into the theater for a short film describing the history of Auschwitz in particular. Afterwards we were ushered through the large doors and to the ominously looming "Arbeit Macht Frei" arch over the entrance to the camp. I think that was perhaps the moment it all became very real.

Our tour guide was a middle-aged Polish woman whose grandfather had been among the prisoners there as it made the transition from prison to concentration camp. She was an excellent guide. I think reading about the Holocaust can be so overwhelming. There were SO MANY people affected and so many perspectives to ponder. I think I liked her so much because she told stories of individuals and their experiences in the camp and while the stories were heart-wrentching, they were stories that one could process on a personal level. She talked a lot about the kindness and sacrifice exhibited by the prisoners and the role of hope in their lives. She didn't sugar coat the atrocities, but she elaborated a bit further than any history book can really be expected to attempt thus making the experience a personal one. We walked through the barracks, along the barbed-wire fences, into the rooms and rooms of hair, shoes, eyeglasses, clothes, gold teeth, and empty Zyklon B cans and finally we were lead into the gas chamber and out through the crematorium. There were two things that were really surprising to me. When I think of "gas chamber" I think of a room with some kind of gas releasing devises that is sealed off and turned on but the Nazi version was much more barbaric. The chambers were built partially underground with very small trap-doorish openings on top where an officer would open a can of gas and dump it on his victims visible below. That was astounding to me. The second surprise was how close both camps were to residential neighborhoods. Looking out from the far fence of Birkenau, there were houses less than 100 yards away. For some reason, I had always imagined these camps to be secluded and difficult to find.

After leaving the camp I think it took Kate and I (as well as most of our bus ride companions) the rest of the evening to regain our words. It was sobering and at times nearly unbearable but I'm really glad I had the experience. I learned something about hope and the strength of the human spirit that even now, nearly four years later, I don't think I can adequately put into words. However, this quote, etched in the wall of a cell describes the sentiment well, ÒI believe in the sun when it is not shining. I believe in love when I feel it not. I believe in God when He is silent.Ó

So when I realized I would be free to choose my own itinerary for the first two days of our recent trip to DC (Andy was at work), I put the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum on my list of things to check out. I was really curious to see how the museum was put together. I must say, over all it was well done. The museum was incredibly well designed and I appreciated the exhibits but it all felt very sterile and pretty which made me feel weird. Top that with the group of teenagers I was touring with who were groping each other on the elevator to the main exhibit (meant to simulate the packed train cars that transported the victims) and sneaking behind the reconstructed bunks from Birkenau to make out, and I was pretty sure I wasn't the only one who wasn't fully experiencing the intended impact of the exhibit. I did, however, appreciate the attention to detail and how thoroughly the main exhibit answered the question "How did this happen?"

One of my favorite quotes from main exhibit was an excerpt from a prayer offered by Rabbi Leo Baeck on Yom Kippur in 1938 which was read in synagogues throughout Germany: "Our history is the history of the grandeur of the human soul and the dignity of human life. In this day of sorrow and pain, surrounded by infamy and shame, we will turn our eyes to the days of old. From generation to generation God redeemed our fathers, and he will redeem us and our children in the days to come." There is something so beautiful about faith in the midst of extreme sadness. I find it at once convicting and inspiring.

I took some photos of the non-exhibit areas in the museum (photography was prohibited in the actual exhibits).




This is the view from the bottom of the stairs coming from the Hall of Witnesses into the theater




Detail of the theater ceiling




One panel of glass etched with the names of lost Jewish communities that lines the bridge in the permanent exhibit





The Tower of Faces




Auschwitz-Birkenau dedication in the Hall of Remembrance

I think it was definitely worth the visit (especially if Krakow isn't on your list of desired destinations), but I will say, choose your companions wisely...and if you aren't in a large group already, try to squeeze in with a group with members over 20. I think it will greatly enhance your experience.

On the way out of the museum, I grabbed a copy of Night from the bookstore and read it that night in order to reconnect myself to the history. Six million people is too much to process. Incidentally, if you haven't heard Elie Wiesel's interview on Speaking of Faith, you should hop over there right now and listen to it. It's amazing.