Part 1

                                           

Coming into this program, it was understood that the world was going to be seen.  However, I didn’t know how nonchalant it would be.  In the last two weeks I put two more countries under my belt:  Austria and Italy.  This is going to be ‘Part 1’ of my excursions from the last two weeks.  ‘Part 1’ is going to consist of our “class field trip” to Vienna and Venice.

First up: Vienna.  A quick three hour bus ride and one McDonald’s stop later, we arrive outside a beautiful hotel.  Once we gather all our things (luggage and whatnot), Jan tells us to come on; our hostel is around the corner (*eye roll* OKAY Jan).  Well, while the first day in Vienna was filled with panic, frustration, guilt, and then a nap (this is a story for another day), our second day was full of beauty.  The destination of the first excursion was the Habsburg’s castle.  The Habsburg’s were forced out of Austria, had to leave everything behind, and exiled for good (except for those that swore that they would not attempt to regain power/any possessions that were left).  Walking outside the castle was breathtaking.  It wrapped around about a four block area with a wonderful courtyard in the middle.  Inside, a museum was created.  Room after room, items from the Habsburg collection were displayed.  It was overwhelming.  In a short hour, I stood in rooms with items that all the money in the world could not buy. Literally. 

                                         

Once we left the mansion, we got to take our pick of museums we wanted to visit.  One word and my mind was made up:  DINOSAURS! Not real ones, of course, but the bones of the real ones makes it close enough.  There were dinosaurs, and cavemen, and RHINOS!! (If you don’t know me, I LOVE rhinos.)  The rest of Vienna was filled with shopping and meeting Americans outside of our group.  We went out for a drink and the whole place was filled with Americans.  I don’t think I met a single Austrian.

       

                                        

Next stop: Venice.  Seven hours in a bus, three stops, and a meal at Burger King looking over the water, we were there.  Jan took us on a (European style) quick trip across some of the islands.  In typical fashion, they got us there and then left us to find our way back.  The problem with Venice is that it is made up of over 180 islands; it took us over an hour and a half to get back to the hostel.  BUUUUT the best part about Venice is getting lost.  The next day, we had plans of visiting the Duke’s castle and the basilica.  The Duke’s castle awesome! There were so many weapons and armor that were so different than all the other museums and castles we had been through.  The day came to a halt when we reached the basilica.  First, we were the last four and were split off from the rest of the group. Second, we were told before that we had to have our shoulders covered, so we did, but they said that I wasn’t allowed to go in because I had shorts on.  WHAAAAAT?! So, we left.   

                           

                                       

THE NEXT DAY WE WENT ON A REALLY LONG WALK!! (I know this is not excited and did not to be capitalized, but I need to keep you on your toes) Jan decided that he was going to take us to a museum that could have taken 20 minutes to get to, but he took us the way that took an hour.  But hey, I had 10,000 steps before 10:30 am. :D

                 After the museum, we were officially on our own for SPRING BREAK.

                                                      Stay Tuned for Part 2!

Saturday.

I put off writing this blog because I didn’t want to relive the events of Saturday.  I didn’t want to write this blog at all because explaining the emotions of the experience of Saturday is impossible.  I'm going to do my best.

After we arrived at our destination, my anxiety surpassed.  At first, I was okay.  I thought “okay, this isn’t going to be as bad as I thought. I’m going to be okay.”  We approached the building and it slowly became real.  Pictures.  Giant Pictures.  Men, women, children flowing off of the trains.  People lined up to learn their fate. 

Left: Gas chambers. Right: Working to their death. 

A fate that was decided in less than 10 seconds. Of course those in the pictures had no idea the future that lie in front of them.  Some were seen smiling, thinking that they were there to work towards a better future; a better life.  Smiling. Minutes before their lives ended.  

It hadn’t set in quite yet.  

The second building. That’s what got me. That is what haunts me. 

They told us that there is only one room that we were not allowed to take photos in.  I didn’t understand that this was THE room.  This room changed me.  To the left and to the right were piles of hair.  MOUNTAINS of hair.  Hair from thousands and thousands of people.  Thousands and thousands of people that were no longer alive.  Thousands and thousands of people that were defenseless and still beaten and forced to work for the people that were beating them.  Thousands and thousands of people that were told that were brutally murdered for the country they lived in or the religion they were born into.

It wasn’t just hair. One FULL room of hair.  Ten foot tall and at least twenty feet wide.  Hair. Another room filled with shoes.  

Another with pots and pans.

Another with luggage.

It went on and on.

Then, there was a box. A box with baby clothes, baby shoes, and certificates for those said babies.  Babies that were gone.  Babies that are in heaven.

My body hated me.  My body was in shock.  The tears stopped at my eyes.  Unable to cry, unable to let it out. I physically felt 50 pounds heavier. My stomach was in knots.  Knots that were ready to come out.  Fighting back the urge to let the McDonald’s I had ate just hours before onto the floor, I continued to walk. Blankly, I walked. 

I said I didn’t want to write this.  I still don’t.  This is the hardest blog I’ve had to write.  

But I’m going to keep going.

A little later, we went into the building with the cells of the prisoners. Pictures of all the prisoners lined the walls.  Men and Women.  Twin sized mattresses lined the floor.  Maybe thirty of them.  Thirty mattresses for one to two THOUSAND people.  Two thousand people per room.  That was for those that were lucky.  “Standing Rooms.”  In a 3 feet by 3 feet “room” four people would have to stand all night.  They would have to stand all night and then have to go work 11 hour days just to have to go right back into the standing rooms.

People had to go through this. 

People did this to other people.  

I was there. Right where they had once stood.

There are people still living in this world that had to go through this.

There are people still living in this world that did this to other people.

A lot more was learned on Saturday.  I could go on, but I’m not going to. Saturday was a day that I will forever remember.

I am changed.

Saturday.  Saturday I walked into a place that unspeakable things happened.  Saturday I stood where thousands of people died.  Saturday I went to Auschwitz.

#SickInTheCzech

I am going to apologize to you, my reader, before you go any further.  This post is extremely random.  I didn’t do much, so it consists of pretty much whatever came into my mind. (:

        This week.  This week is a week I am thankful for.  Week number three: I fell ill.  I learned that they don’t use the word “sick” here; you are ILL.  This was an easy-going week.  A week to let my body rejuvenate. It was also a time that I could really reflect on the things that were going on around me.  For example, buying things at the store is completely different then back in the States.  One, you cannot just go into one store and buy everything you need.  Yes, there is a store like Walmart here; it is called Globus.  Medicine is a no-go, unless in a pharmacy.  So, while Globus is one tram stop and a 10 minute walk (because Americans walk slow, but I will discuss this later) heading northeast from our dorms, the pharmacy is a 15 minute tram ride east (all the way into town) and a 3 minute walk.  While this was extremely inconvenient (because I'm American), it also made me consider how much I actually needed medicine, or if the four large bottles of ibuprofen and acetaminophen I brought from home would be enough. Ultimately, I did give in and go to the pharmacy.  Whatever they gave me had me feeling better within two days.  Yay!

Back to the whole “Americans walk slow” thing.  I have never really thought about it before.  The only time I ever complained about someone walking fast was when my grandma used to take me to the grocery store and I would have to sprint to keep up with her.  I feel like that little girl again.  Europeans walk fast.  After going on a couple tours, I now know that there is no slowing down to “take a quick picture.” You will lose everybody.  (I actually talked to a couple that had this happen to them.)  Most of the time I start at the front of the group and by the time we get to where we are going, I am 10 yards behind the tour guide. I can’t blame them though.  Most Europeans are so used to walking almost everywhere.  Their “short” walks that they take us on usually go on for over an hour and most of it is up-hill. I’m not complaining, it’s just different.  It’s an experience unlike what you get in the U.S., especially in Nebraska.  Usually, I would hop in my car to drive to the bank that is literally two blocks away from my home.  I don’t know if this will change the way I do things when I get home, but it will make me aware of the luxuries that I have and am able to use. (As you can see [photos below] these walks/hikes were well worth it in the end)

                                               

        

 

Only last bit about the shopping situation.  The most shock I had while shopping here was when I went to check out at Globus for the first time.  ALL THE CASHIERS WERE SITTING.  All of them. Also, they didn’t have to bag anything.  The customer was responsible for bringing their own bags and bagging everything themselves.  At first I was “WHAT DO YOU GET PAID TO DO?!” Then I was like “Wow, I wish America did this.” Now, after having a few “big” shopping trips, I understand that having me bag up everything while I’m trying to put everything on the belt and pay is extremely inconvenient to the cashier and the other guests.  Maybe it’s just because I’m American and I don’t have any strategy to do it, but it is a truly chaotic experience.  It gives me anxiety.

Thanks.