Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Yosemite Valley
Blake and I are happy to finally be off the road and into a place of our own. We are now both employed with DNC Yosemite, and two of the very last three people hired for the season. As you may have heard, there is a hantavirus outbreak going on here, so things have been a little slower than usual. I'm not worried about it, even though we live in the epicenter of the outbreak, Curry Village in one of the tent cabins (although not insulated, which seems to be the source of the mice).
We've been enjoying a first few days off with a little bit of paid training, and today we took a swim here
which is basically right in our back yard. Also, it's very cold! (but felt great in the hot sun).
I'm looking forward to keeping this blog updated frequently now that we are out adventuring, but with work and no internet in our tent, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. There are certainly a lot of interesting creatures and plants in the area that we come into frequent contact with, and perhaps some other prospective employees will be interested in the hiring and work process, which I'll post more about later. However, right now I am pretty sleepy, so I'm going to cut this short as a teaser ;-)
Good night, everyone!
We've been enjoying a first few days off with a little bit of paid training, and today we took a swim here
which is basically right in our back yard. Also, it's very cold! (but felt great in the hot sun).
I'm looking forward to keeping this blog updated frequently now that we are out adventuring, but with work and no internet in our tent, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. There are certainly a lot of interesting creatures and plants in the area that we come into frequent contact with, and perhaps some other prospective employees will be interested in the hiring and work process, which I'll post more about later. However, right now I am pretty sleepy, so I'm going to cut this short as a teaser ;-)
Good night, everyone!
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Go West!
Hey, wow, hey!! Long time, no see! Well, guess what! Looks like my new partner and I will be heading off to a new adventure out west to Yosemite very soon. Nothing for sure yet, and if it falls through, we are relocating from Asheville, North Carolina to Bozeman, Montana. Quite the move for us both and our little parakeet, Phillip. Wish us luck at Yosemite, though, because I'll be doing a lot of blogging about it if we go. Thanks for stopping in, I promise more posts are very soon to come.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Back to the Salt Mines
Yesterday I visited Wieliczka, which is about 15 km from Krakow. Wieliczka means "Mine" in Polish, and is famous for one thing; the salt mine. I suppose it's very possible that you've been there, since there are over one million visitors each year and it's been open to tourists since the mid-19th century. It has been continuously working since the 13th century. Just to get a grip on how old this is, keep in mind that Genghis Khan was doing his thing in the 13th Century. This was before eyeglasses and move-able type were invented. Before perspective was used in paintings. Copernicus visited this mine after it had already been in operation for about 200 years... right around the time America was discovered. So, you get it...it's old.
As an American, I so rarely get a glimpse of things that are old. "Old" in America means a couple hundred years, so it's incredibly difficult for me to wrap my mind around age in this way. As if that wasn't enough, this place is staggeringly huge. There are over 150 miles (245km) of passageways and 2400 chambers that range in depths from 210-1,070 ft (64-327meters). Only 1% of the total mine is accessible to tourists, including the the 378 steps you have to walk down to start the 2 mile (3.5km) walking tour. It takes about 3 hours.
Something to remember is that salt used to be really valuable. Without refrigeration, it was the only thing that could keep foods from spoiling, and NaCl is vital for moving blood around the human body.
Workers in the mine were well paid, and only worked 7 hours per day. (No slaves or child laborers were ever utilized.) Once per week they could bring home as much salt as they could carry in their hands, so even with all of the occupational hazards, it was a pretty good job.
The jewel of the mine is the giant cathedral, of course completely carved from salt by amateur artists who worked in the mine. Even the "glass" pieces on the chandeliers are made from salt.
It's a little expensive to visit this place. With a student discount, the costs was 54PLN, plus another 10PLN for permission to take photos and videos. That's only about $20(USD), but considering the cost of everything else in Poland, it seemed a bit steep. I'm not sure if I would recommend this place for children. Three hours and two miles of walking is a lot for a young kid, and although the group I was in was entirely adults, I heard a fair share of grumbling from those who were less than enthralled by salt.
One of the best parts of the tour is the very end, where a multi-story elevator carries groups back to the surface world. The ride takes almost a full minute and I was legitimately scared in that "reassure myself that it has to be ok" kind of way. Eight people go into each "floor" of the elevator and it's a little more than cozy. If you didn't get to know your tour group before, by the time you get off the elevator, you will know what brand of shampoo they use. The contraption is all metal and makes a tremendous sound. After descending so deep, it's just impossible not to think about what the drop would be like. I recommend getting on first, because the elevator rises to let more people on underneath you, and in the meantime you are plunged into darkness and waiting without any clue as to what's happening. Then at ground level, the people below you are let off first, so you get a little jolt of a drop down when it's your turn. It was a good way to wake up after the tour.
Well, at the very least, it was one more UNESCO World Heritage site to cross off the list. Only like 934 left!
As an American, I so rarely get a glimpse of things that are old. "Old" in America means a couple hundred years, so it's incredibly difficult for me to wrap my mind around age in this way. As if that wasn't enough, this place is staggeringly huge. There are over 150 miles (245km) of passageways and 2400 chambers that range in depths from 210-1,070 ft (64-327meters). Only 1% of the total mine is accessible to tourists, including the the 378 steps you have to walk down to start the 2 mile (3.5km) walking tour. It takes about 3 hours.
Something to remember is that salt used to be really valuable. Without refrigeration, it was the only thing that could keep foods from spoiling, and NaCl is vital for moving blood around the human body.
Workers in the mine were well paid, and only worked 7 hours per day. (No slaves or child laborers were ever utilized.) Once per week they could bring home as much salt as they could carry in their hands, so even with all of the occupational hazards, it was a pretty good job.
 |
| This is about the size of a small person. An entire village could be purchased with a block of salt this large. |
It's a pretty amazing place. I found the old wooden tools to be most impressive. There are machines built in the 17th century that are in perfect working condition. This is because the wood is impregnated with salt and preserves it. Metal corrodes very quickly and wasn't used. Any of the same wooden tools on the surface have all deteriorated into nothing, so it's a great record of how exactly people worked.
And of course, the carvings in every chamber are stunning, especially because most of them were made by amateurs.
 |
| It's hard to think about everything being made from 100% salt. |
One of the best parts of the tour is the very end, where a multi-story elevator carries groups back to the surface world. The ride takes almost a full minute and I was legitimately scared in that "reassure myself that it has to be ok" kind of way. Eight people go into each "floor" of the elevator and it's a little more than cozy. If you didn't get to know your tour group before, by the time you get off the elevator, you will know what brand of shampoo they use. The contraption is all metal and makes a tremendous sound. After descending so deep, it's just impossible not to think about what the drop would be like. I recommend getting on first, because the elevator rises to let more people on underneath you, and in the meantime you are plunged into darkness and waiting without any clue as to what's happening. Then at ground level, the people below you are let off first, so you get a little jolt of a drop down when it's your turn. It was a good way to wake up after the tour.
 |
| Like a Polish Universal Studios ride |
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Don't be Sad That Uncle is Petrified
I try really hard not to be judgmental. As a traveler, it's basically an obligation. I even have to be careful not to pass judgments on myself, which can be difficult. I've been hanging out in post-Communist/Soviet-controlled countries for the last three months and while Americans might think that these places are dangerous and unsavory, I can assure you that there is a mutual sentiment here against America. (Cold War anyone?)
Before I get into my point on tolerance, let me tell you a little about where I've been, just for the sake of suspense...
Slovakia (The Slovak Republic) is a fairly new country, so anyone born in the 1980s has seen a lot of impressive changes. For example:
Here's Michal. Michal speaks decent English. (He happens to be my boyfriend, which is why I'm using him as an example) Michal was born in 1980 in Banská Bystrica, Czechoslovakia. He was born under Communist control, which means when he was five years old, he had to swear an oath to Brother Russia to serve and protect his country and communist ideals. Russian language was required in schools (although this changed when Michal was in school- his class was the first to begin learning English) Commodities were rationed. He remembers people waiting in long lines at grocery stores for exotic and limited items such as oranges, and if a family wanted a car or some new furniture, it could be years before they could get it. In 1989, the Velvet Revolution started, which ended the communist government in Czechoslovakia. Then in 1993, Czechoslovakia peacefully separated and Slovakia became in independent nation. That same year, the European Union (EU) was officially formed under that name, and in 2004, Slovakia entered the EU, adopting the Euro as official currency in 2009. Ahhh, Slovakia, A Land of Contrast. And they speak English! But only in theory....
So the country where Michal was born no longer exists, and the government there has made a radical leap from communism to capitalism and democracy. The EU governs most things, and whereas before, Slovakia could brag about having the best butter and milk in the land, now it's being sold to Poland, and Slovak shops mostly carry Polish butter and milk. (As a side note- Slovakia has a great climate for agriculture and farming. Almost anything can grow. But I dare you to find Slovak-grown vegetables and fruits in a supermarket there. The same is true in America, where citrus grown in Florida is shipped to California, and California-grown citrus is shipped to Florida. When I hitchhiked with one truck driver hauling melons from CA to FL, he joked that trucks carrying the same loads are constantly passing each other on the highways. It doesn't make any sense, but that's money for ya...)
Slovakia is still a fairly poor country. Of the 17 countries that use the Euro, Slovakia is the poorest. It's also pretty small, with about 5.4 million people. But there have been a lot of changes in the last 30 years and things are often not very cohesive. English is taught in schools, but even young people have trouble with English. Perhaps English is more commonly spoken in the capitol, Bratislava, which is the only city that enjoys steady foreign tourism. However, in other cities such as Banská Bystrica, it's almost impossible. I was lucky to have Michal with me to translate and teach me some basics. He learned English when he was in the UK for one year, but it's far from perfect. Often our conversations completely relied on a translation book, which meant they were frequently derailed. It seems difficult, but we are both patient people, and we ended up avoiding a lot of needless drama. (When you can't be understand by someone, you can't unload your neuroses on them.)
When he wasn't around, I spend a lot of my time avoiding too much communication and relying on hand gestures to indicate what I wanted. Shrugging was also a popular choice. I know how to say "I don't speak Slovak", which is extremely helpful in getting people to sigh and walk away from you, or laugh, depending on their mood*. For three months I heard almost no English from a native speaker. I will even go so far as to say that for the last nine months, I've heard very little English from a native speaker, especially an American. (Icelanders have good English, but it's just not the same without regional slang.)
Yesterday I hitchhiked to Krakow, Poland, and spend some time in a cafe waiting for a friend to arrive. Krakow is a very popular tourist destination. Probably because Poland is a very cheap country, it's popular with British school groups and stag partiers. That means there is a ton of native English to be heard. The Polish in Krakow are also generally willing and able to speak English, so that makes things easy.
During my time in central Slovakia, I would nearly break my neck when I heard someone speaking English, spinning around to see who it was. It was always a fun and exciting way to meet and talk with someone. Being understood is very underrated! So when I was in the cafe waiting for my friend, I was momentarily shocked to hear two American girls speaking, and then later, a group of British girls talking.
And here's where I finally get back to my point on being judgmental....
The Americans were saying some of the stupidest things I've ever heard. I won't go into details, but imagine 16 year old girls having what they think is a very serious debate about ethics and philosophy. Throw in some "like"s and "whatever"s, and that was basically it. The British girls were equally enthralling with their conversations about how much they hate the other girls in their class, and how they hate people who complain about stuff, and like, omg, it's so cold outside!
I've never been sadder to understand people in my life.
On the 23rd, I am taking a flight back to the USA, where I expect to be able to understand most of what's going on. I'm a little worried. Not because I might hear some stupid crap (I think most conversations are probably pretty stupid), but because it might actually be weird to understand and be understood. I've been speaking a really simplified, slow version of English for almost a year, with the addition of some unidentifiable accents, and it's difficult to get back to normal. I'll probably be the one who ends up sounding stupid.
*Here's some advice: If you travel to any country, the most useful phrase you can know is "Sorry, I don't speak/understand ___". I can say this in Icelandic, Polish, Slovak, Czech, and French. It's always one of the first things I learn. It sounds a little ignorant, but you can learn all of the basic phrases, numbers, and foods you want and still be completely clueless when someone talks back to you. When you say "I don't understand" in their language, people will either attempt English, help you in some other way, or go away. There's not much anyone can do beyond that. If you travel, know this phrase!
Before I get into my point on tolerance, let me tell you a little about where I've been, just for the sake of suspense...
Slovakia (The Slovak Republic) is a fairly new country, so anyone born in the 1980s has seen a lot of impressive changes. For example:
So the country where Michal was born no longer exists, and the government there has made a radical leap from communism to capitalism and democracy. The EU governs most things, and whereas before, Slovakia could brag about having the best butter and milk in the land, now it's being sold to Poland, and Slovak shops mostly carry Polish butter and milk. (As a side note- Slovakia has a great climate for agriculture and farming. Almost anything can grow. But I dare you to find Slovak-grown vegetables and fruits in a supermarket there. The same is true in America, where citrus grown in Florida is shipped to California, and California-grown citrus is shipped to Florida. When I hitchhiked with one truck driver hauling melons from CA to FL, he joked that trucks carrying the same loads are constantly passing each other on the highways. It doesn't make any sense, but that's money for ya...)
Slovakia is still a fairly poor country. Of the 17 countries that use the Euro, Slovakia is the poorest. It's also pretty small, with about 5.4 million people. But there have been a lot of changes in the last 30 years and things are often not very cohesive. English is taught in schools, but even young people have trouble with English. Perhaps English is more commonly spoken in the capitol, Bratislava, which is the only city that enjoys steady foreign tourism. However, in other cities such as Banská Bystrica, it's almost impossible. I was lucky to have Michal with me to translate and teach me some basics. He learned English when he was in the UK for one year, but it's far from perfect. Often our conversations completely relied on a translation book, which meant they were frequently derailed. It seems difficult, but we are both patient people, and we ended up avoiding a lot of needless drama. (When you can't be understand by someone, you can't unload your neuroses on them.)
When he wasn't around, I spend a lot of my time avoiding too much communication and relying on hand gestures to indicate what I wanted. Shrugging was also a popular choice. I know how to say "I don't speak Slovak", which is extremely helpful in getting people to sigh and walk away from you, or laugh, depending on their mood*. For three months I heard almost no English from a native speaker. I will even go so far as to say that for the last nine months, I've heard very little English from a native speaker, especially an American. (Icelanders have good English, but it's just not the same without regional slang.)
Yesterday I hitchhiked to Krakow, Poland, and spend some time in a cafe waiting for a friend to arrive. Krakow is a very popular tourist destination. Probably because Poland is a very cheap country, it's popular with British school groups and stag partiers. That means there is a ton of native English to be heard. The Polish in Krakow are also generally willing and able to speak English, so that makes things easy.
During my time in central Slovakia, I would nearly break my neck when I heard someone speaking English, spinning around to see who it was. It was always a fun and exciting way to meet and talk with someone. Being understood is very underrated! So when I was in the cafe waiting for my friend, I was momentarily shocked to hear two American girls speaking, and then later, a group of British girls talking.
And here's where I finally get back to my point on being judgmental....
The Americans were saying some of the stupidest things I've ever heard. I won't go into details, but imagine 16 year old girls having what they think is a very serious debate about ethics and philosophy. Throw in some "like"s and "whatever"s, and that was basically it. The British girls were equally enthralling with their conversations about how much they hate the other girls in their class, and how they hate people who complain about stuff, and like, omg, it's so cold outside!
I've never been sadder to understand people in my life.
On the 23rd, I am taking a flight back to the USA, where I expect to be able to understand most of what's going on. I'm a little worried. Not because I might hear some stupid crap (I think most conversations are probably pretty stupid), but because it might actually be weird to understand and be understood. I've been speaking a really simplified, slow version of English for almost a year, with the addition of some unidentifiable accents, and it's difficult to get back to normal. I'll probably be the one who ends up sounding stupid.
*Here's some advice: If you travel to any country, the most useful phrase you can know is "Sorry, I don't speak/understand ___". I can say this in Icelandic, Polish, Slovak, Czech, and French. It's always one of the first things I learn. It sounds a little ignorant, but you can learn all of the basic phrases, numbers, and foods you want and still be completely clueless when someone talks back to you. When you say "I don't understand" in their language, people will either attempt English, help you in some other way, or go away. There's not much anyone can do beyond that. If you travel, know this phrase!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Engrish (Death or Blorg)
Today, Michal and I wandered around Banska Bystrica with the impossible goal of finding some new cargo pants for him. Seeing as how it's not 1998 anymore, we had no luck, but I did find a lot of great Engrish and odd packaging in the many side-street Chinese shops. Enjoy.
 |
| Nonsense... |
 |
| Ummm... |
 |
| Totally appropriate children's clothing |
 |
| A little more subtle (also a children's shirt) |
 |
| The most inappropriately named children's underwear ever. |
 |
| I have no idea what's going on here. |
 |
| ...but at least they've got a theme. |
 |
| Underwear for very small boys featuring various killing weapons...and Blorg. And golf. Because of course. I almost bought these. |
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
It's Never a Good Time Now
I had no intentions of visiting any concentration camps while in Poland, but somehow yesterday I ended up at the worst one. Deniz and Michal thought it was important to see Europe's history, but they are European and I'm not, so I was pretty nervous about the whole thing being less of a learning experience and more of a torture porn tourist destination. It turns out I was pretty divided on the subject and I'm still pretty confused as to what happened.
Oświęcim is about an hour's drive from Krakow, where I've been staying for the last five days. Luckily Michal has a car that he borrowed from a friend in Slovakia, so we were able to take our time enjoying the beautiful countryside and avoid the bus ride. Deniz wanted to take a guided tour through the museum, so he split off from us at the small camp because we weren't interested in doing that for our own individual reasons. The way it works is this: There were originally three camps at Auschwitz, I, II, and III. I is where the museum and famous "Arbeit Macht Frei" gate are. II is the huge main camp that's famous for everything else. III apparently doesn't exist anymore, or at least it's not open to the public.
The place where we left Deniz, I, completely gave me the creeps, and not in the way you might think. It's hard to tell that there is even a museum or a concentration camp at the location because it's crowded with parking, tour buses, souvenir/book shops, and even a couple of stands labeled in huge block letters "FAST FOOD". When you go inside to get a ticket, there are huge lines of people and racks and racks of headsets being pushed back and forth by employees. There's even a post office and a pay toilet. Michal and I hung around for a bit and then decided to just go to the II camp and walk around. On our way out, an attendant demanded we pay 8 zloty for parking, even though there is not sign mentioning this. I told her we had just been in for 5 minutes and didn't see the museum, so she let us go, but it was the peak of our frustration with how much money and profit is involved with Auschwitz being a tourist attraction.
Personally, I feel like it should be free and/or donation-based. I know it costs a lot of money to keep it running and do all of the restorations, etc, but there's something insidious about bringing currency into the atmosphere and it really bothered me.
At the main camp, anyone can enter at no charge, but it's 5 zloty for an information booklet, and you have to pay for the toilets (as a side note- this is not unusual and I don't have a big problem with it, but I just want to point out that it's not completely free).
Most people were crowded around the first building, which was the lavatory. It was really hot and Michal took his shirt off, which I knew would be trouble, but I didn't say anything. Then we sat in the grass and read our pamphlets and waited for the crowd to thin out. After about five minutes, a man came up to us and started yelling in Polish. I thought he was yelling at Michal for not having a shirt, and I told him to put it on. Michal asked the man "why?" and the guy changed to English and yelled at us that we couldn't be there. So we got up and joined the group in the first building to try to hear some information from one of the tour guides. After about two minutes in there, a woman came up to us and started yelling at Michal for not having a shirt. She told him this was a death place, a cemetery...and stormed off.
I completely understand what she means, and personally, I wouldn't have taken my shirt off, but we couldn't understand why neither of these people could have just explained it to us nicely and had some understanding instead of just shouting and ostracizing us for a pretty minor slip-up. I'm convinced that everyone there thought we were completely uncivilized troublemakers. The entire tour group glared at us and we had to leave. I can honestly say we meant no disrespect.
It took a while for the sting to wear off, and instead of thinking about the people who actually suffered there, we ended up thinking about what a ridiculous tourist trap the place had become and I felt like that was more criminal than someone unwittingly stepping on the grass.
Fortunately, it's easy to be alone there, because it's huge and most people follow a tour that comes from the museum. Michal and I started going through the opposite way, starting with the barracks and ending with the monument and rails. I can't explain how enormous the place is and how easy it is to recreate scenes in your head.
About halfway down the row where a big dividing gate is erected, I spotted a small rust-colored deer wildly zig-zagging around the ruins inside trying to find a way out. It was in a complete panic running toward the fences, where there were only two gates ajar that it could slip through. It ran toward the one further from us and met with a barrier. For a moment, it looked around and took in it's options, then backed up slightly and plunged through the barbed wire and shot off across the field and into the woods.
It was a really beautiful and symbolic scene for me. Very soon after this we found the area where medical experiments were performed, and I completely broke down. After that I just didn't want to see anything else, which was an unfortunate time to decide that, because we still had to walk through the woods past the ash lake and the crematoriums.
I still feel pretty shook up about the whole experience, but I wanted to share this small story because the bad feelings about this place were amplified and added to by the addition of car parks, ticket takers, and fast food stands. I'm sorry I went. I didn't need to see it.
Oświęcim is about an hour's drive from Krakow, where I've been staying for the last five days. Luckily Michal has a car that he borrowed from a friend in Slovakia, so we were able to take our time enjoying the beautiful countryside and avoid the bus ride. Deniz wanted to take a guided tour through the museum, so he split off from us at the small camp because we weren't interested in doing that for our own individual reasons. The way it works is this: There were originally three camps at Auschwitz, I, II, and III. I is where the museum and famous "Arbeit Macht Frei" gate are. II is the huge main camp that's famous for everything else. III apparently doesn't exist anymore, or at least it's not open to the public.
The place where we left Deniz, I, completely gave me the creeps, and not in the way you might think. It's hard to tell that there is even a museum or a concentration camp at the location because it's crowded with parking, tour buses, souvenir/book shops, and even a couple of stands labeled in huge block letters "FAST FOOD". When you go inside to get a ticket, there are huge lines of people and racks and racks of headsets being pushed back and forth by employees. There's even a post office and a pay toilet. Michal and I hung around for a bit and then decided to just go to the II camp and walk around. On our way out, an attendant demanded we pay 8 zloty for parking, even though there is not sign mentioning this. I told her we had just been in for 5 minutes and didn't see the museum, so she let us go, but it was the peak of our frustration with how much money and profit is involved with Auschwitz being a tourist attraction.
Personally, I feel like it should be free and/or donation-based. I know it costs a lot of money to keep it running and do all of the restorations, etc, but there's something insidious about bringing currency into the atmosphere and it really bothered me.
At the main camp, anyone can enter at no charge, but it's 5 zloty for an information booklet, and you have to pay for the toilets (as a side note- this is not unusual and I don't have a big problem with it, but I just want to point out that it's not completely free).
Most people were crowded around the first building, which was the lavatory. It was really hot and Michal took his shirt off, which I knew would be trouble, but I didn't say anything. Then we sat in the grass and read our pamphlets and waited for the crowd to thin out. After about five minutes, a man came up to us and started yelling in Polish. I thought he was yelling at Michal for not having a shirt, and I told him to put it on. Michal asked the man "why?" and the guy changed to English and yelled at us that we couldn't be there. So we got up and joined the group in the first building to try to hear some information from one of the tour guides. After about two minutes in there, a woman came up to us and started yelling at Michal for not having a shirt. She told him this was a death place, a cemetery...and stormed off.
I completely understand what she means, and personally, I wouldn't have taken my shirt off, but we couldn't understand why neither of these people could have just explained it to us nicely and had some understanding instead of just shouting and ostracizing us for a pretty minor slip-up. I'm convinced that everyone there thought we were completely uncivilized troublemakers. The entire tour group glared at us and we had to leave. I can honestly say we meant no disrespect.
It took a while for the sting to wear off, and instead of thinking about the people who actually suffered there, we ended up thinking about what a ridiculous tourist trap the place had become and I felt like that was more criminal than someone unwittingly stepping on the grass.
Fortunately, it's easy to be alone there, because it's huge and most people follow a tour that comes from the museum. Michal and I started going through the opposite way, starting with the barracks and ending with the monument and rails. I can't explain how enormous the place is and how easy it is to recreate scenes in your head.
About halfway down the row where a big dividing gate is erected, I spotted a small rust-colored deer wildly zig-zagging around the ruins inside trying to find a way out. It was in a complete panic running toward the fences, where there were only two gates ajar that it could slip through. It ran toward the one further from us and met with a barrier. For a moment, it looked around and took in it's options, then backed up slightly and plunged through the barbed wire and shot off across the field and into the woods.
It was a really beautiful and symbolic scene for me. Very soon after this we found the area where medical experiments were performed, and I completely broke down. After that I just didn't want to see anything else, which was an unfortunate time to decide that, because we still had to walk through the woods past the ash lake and the crematoriums.
I still feel pretty shook up about the whole experience, but I wanted to share this small story because the bad feelings about this place were amplified and added to by the addition of car parks, ticket takers, and fast food stands. I'm sorry I went. I didn't need to see it.
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