(June 3 journal entry)

Words fail me. I cannot attempt to describe my visit to Dachau. How could I? How were the camp´s survivors able to begin again, to live? And to write eloquent, disturbing accounts of their experiences as victims under Nazi regime? One immediately notices the entrance gate into the prisoners´barracks: Arbeit Macht Frei ("Work makes you free"). Roofs of the building where men were stripped, shaved & tattooed once read, "There is a path to freedom. Its milestones are: Obediance, Honesty, Cleanliness, Sobreity, Hard Work, Disicipline, Sacrifice, Truthfulness, Love of thy Fatherland." All jokes. I listened to historical information & personal testimonies at each marked site, and there, across the main yard I could see hundreds of prisoners (a camp, built for 6,000, holding 32,000) lined up & beaten at roll call, the dead dragged, too, I could head the SS screaming. I could feel an anguis, so insignificant, so meaningless in comparison. None of this has (or will ever) depart from Dachau. It appears physically different sixty-three years later, trees grown, gardens planted, memorials erected, only barracks´foundations remaining, but many photos remind you (as if you could forget?) of how it appeared from 1933-1945. Unlike a reconstructed barrack, the camp´s original two crematoriums stand, gas chambers and ovens as they were abandoned in ´45 (the chambers unused for mass executions, but most likely for small "medical" experiments & torture), and walking through rooms that held 11,000 corpses waiting to be burned -- how can I describe that? I cried quietly to myself & tried not to panic. Maybe a few months from now I can return to this entry and describe the camp & my reactions more coherently, in greater detail, but now, my loss for words & images of Dachau are burning holes into my tired mind. And yet, I looked up, and there was a faint rainbow -- hope -- that I was able to capture in photos. Some ask, "Why visit a place so depressing?" Without education, without visits, the Holocaust, the victims of the Holocaust will be forgotten. Don´t argue, how could they be forgotten? Visits, remembrance, is necessary. A memorial reads in multiple languages: "May the examplpe of those who were exterminated here between 1933-1945 because they resisted Nazism help to unite the living for the defense of peace and freedom and in respect for their fellow men."

(June 4 journal entry)

Munich (or appropriately,Munchen) is a lovely, strange city. Strange meaning, for Germany´s third largest city (population 1.3 million), it still maintains a small-town atmosphere, a feeling it´s no larger than Erie, PA! Locals run into old friends, buildings are (by law) no taller than church steeples, and great parks & plazas abound. Where does its charm lie? Well over half of Munich was bombed to smithereens at the end of WWII, but instead of removing debris, bulldozing as many cities opted, it was rebuilt, restored (as well as it could be) to its original Mideval & Renaissance splendor. Plazas remain automobile-free zones & a vital part of city life: fresh food markets, restaurants, shopping & musicians peddling for tips. A lot of original architecture does remain, and what was destroyed is depicted in photos (well, Nazis did neurotically record & document everything) in entrances to renovated churches & other public buildings. How uncrowded and leisurely Munich seems for a city of so many inhabitants! Read about it in travel guides prior to arriving, all expected, but still taken by surprise. Not sure I could live here (unless involved in teaching/studies at LMU, and I know no German), but a long, how summer in Munich would be a delight.