By: Charlie Getman- Bus 12
Throughout our entire week in Poland one question has haunted me: Why? The question rattled around my brain, challenging me. I wondered why I was spending a week before Israel in Poland. I knew that it was important, but no one was able to explain how it was important. Extremely impactful and deeply moving moments of Jewish sorrow affected me, but still didn’t answer my question. Why was I forcing myself to experience such difficult things? Was it because I had an obligation to my ancestors to feel their pain? That is an answer to my question, but it wasn’t an answer I was satisfied with. The answer I was looking for could only be found at the climax of our trip in Poland, on the grounds of Auschwitz Birkenau.
Our entire week in Poland had moments of sadness punctuated by a newfound understanding of both the scale and horror of the Holocaust. The intimate Lupachova forest where all of the Tykocin Jews were shot by Nazi soldiers and the destroyed death factory of Majdanek were both stand out moments that challenged and shook me. But I knew that Auschwitz would be different. Many of us on the trip had family that had died there, myself included. My great-great-great grandfather died there. He was in his 70s when the Holocaust began. The day was as difficult and horrific as I was expecting. But despite the painful imagery and unimaginable loss we were being asked to imagine, we had learned to rely on each other to get through these difficult moments.
The trip ended with a visit to the “Book of Names” which held the names of 4.8 million victims of the Holocaust. I wanted to find my grandfather’s name, but was too overwhelmed and didn’t know how to even start. Two of my friends immediately came to my side and helped me find him. I couldn’t have done it without them. They were there to find the page his name was on, and there to hold me while I reacted to seeing it printed out on a list of dozens of other people with the same last name. It took finding his name to find the answer to a question I’d had the entire week. Why travel to Poland? It’s not to feel the same pain as our ancestors, because that’s impossible. It’s not even to understand the pain our ancestors felt, because that too is impossible. It’s to prove to our ancestors that we won. We’re able to return to Poland without fear of death. If you can see my Grandpa Zanvil, I hope that you’re proud of me. And that you know we survived, we haven’t forgotten you or anyone else that was murdered.
