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Back in Dortmund and back to the Grind

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I finally arrived back in Dortmund after standing for three hours straight on the train back from Berlin. Though it wasn’t the most pleasant experience (I had to stand the entire way), I still enjoyed the scenery.

Having the ability to experience hiking in the Bavarian Alps, riding the train through the hills of Austria, witnessing the crazy beer-culture of Munich and learning more about the history of Berlin was well worth having a slightly sore back and aching legs last night.

Though it’s difficult to pinpoint what the exact highlight of my trip was, I would probably call a tossup between seeing the beautiful scenery of Füssen (the town nestled at the foot of the Alps with the castles nearby) and exploring the “alternative” culture of Berlin through its street art and local hang-outs, like YAAM beach.

Who would’ve known that in the middle of Berlin you’d find a little slice of Jamaica? The city truly is full of surprises around every corner and I definitely plan to go back for a weekend getaway sometime this summer with friends. It’s an extremely affordable city to travel to and stay in (decent meals costing only 3-5 Euros, with many hostels costing around 10 Euros nightly), so why not?

I’ll have to think about my return trip later. For now, it’s time to get back to work here in Dortmund.

Tomorrow I begin my classes (luckily I was able to schedule all of them between Tuesday and Thursday…four day weekends!) and soon I will begin to keep a blog for the University of Dortmund as well.

As dorky as it sounds, I kind of feel like a little kid going off to their first day of kindergarten. I’m nervous, and, well, a little scared. I really have no idea what to expect tomorrow: will my classes be bigger or smaller? Will I make friends? Will there be a language barrier? Will I fit in? My mind is flooded with questions that I will just have to wait to have answered.

Regardless of the differences between going to school at Iowa and here, I’m sure that everything will be fine and I’ll look back wondering why I was nervous at all in the first place. For now, I’m just going to kick back, relax and let things happen as they may. After all, why should I stress about the things I can’t control?

I’m just going to wing it.

Beer! Beer! Beer!

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After spending the last few days in Munich, I’ve decided (without question) that the city definitely lived up to its title as the World’s beer drinking capitol. Brew houses are located on virtually every corner and it seems like beer gardens far outnumber people.

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With all of the alcohol consumption many tourists partake in, It’s probably fairly easy to miss out on many of the sights that Munich has to offer other than the Brauhaus or various pretzel/schnitzel stands in the market. It’s a little disappointing, but I understand the thought process: cheap beer mixed with cheap snacks makes for a good time.

Maybe I’m just a party-pooper, but I’ll admit I didn’t have one drink. I chose to do these things instead (all for less than 20 Euros)!

-Purchased a Munich Inner City public transportation pass for 6 E­­uros and traveled to Nymphemburg Palace, the summer home of Bavaria’s past rulers. Entrance to the palace itself was only 4 Euros, and anyone can roam the beautiful gardens for free.

-Traveled to the English Gardens to soak up some sun, eat a packed lunch and enjoy a nice walk.

-Took myself around the city following the walking-tour map. The entire route took around 3.5 hours on foot but could easily be completed by hopping on and off trams. There are also guided tours offered on foot (some for free/tip-based) or by bus. They can be quite pricey, however.

-Church tours. Munich is full of old, beautifully built churches. You can enter most for free, with extras (such as visiting crypts or climbing the bell tower only costing 1-2 Euros.

Overall I think Munich is a great stop for anyone who enjoys history, architecture, good food and a lively atmosphere.

Minor drawbacks include the cost of meals (at least 10 Euros a plate, almost everywhere except for chain vendors such as Imbiss/Kebap/Pizza/market food) and the huge layout of the city: you basically must use public transportation to get around, and even then you should plan on having sore feet!

Arbeit Macht Frei

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This was their welcome to Dachau.

Marching barefoot, in shock, barely clothed  and starving to death, over 200,000 men, women and children passed through the gates following journeys in packed railroad cars among the dead and those dying, or by foot at gunpoint.

Designed to be a “training ground” for SS officers, Dachau was the first concentration camp established under Hitler’s watchful eye in 1933, only 40 days after he took over power.

Though Dachau was originally built with the purpose to be a holding place to incarcerate up to 5,000 “enemies to the regime” it became a true death camp between 1938 and 1945.

Overcrowded and filled disease ridden, weak and malnourished prisoners, Dachau’s death rate sky-rocketed between the years of 1938-1945 when the population of the camp doubled to over 10,000.

Equipped with a single crematorium for prisoner deaths when it was first built, Dachau’s lack of resources to support the prisoner population led to the creation of the first true concentration camp “death factory,” equipped with a gas chamber disguised as a shower facility.

As we all know, the gas chambers played a major role in the extermination of those viewed “inferior” by Hitler. Dachau was the first, and acted as testing ground for all barbaric practices of Hitler’s regime.

In the end, over 32,000 lost their lives there.

The tears started flowing, my stomach turned and I was chilled to the bone as soon as I could see that gate.

Black, square, jagged letters: those three infamous words were meant to create a sense of false hope.

One can’t help to wonder: did the prisoners know their fate? Did they really think their lives would return to normal? That they would survive? Most pressing: how could the townspeople of Dachau live with themselves, knowing that something horrible was happening in their own back yard and they were remaining silent?

It’s gut wrenching to even think about.

Opening up to a large, open square with barracks to the left and nooses to the right, it’s difficult to imagine what it would have felt like to enter those gates, or what thoughts would be going through one’s mind.

For weeks I’ve been dreading getting to experience it for myself.

Visiting Dachau wasn’t something I wanted to do. I didn’t want to get off the bus at the memorial stop. It was just something I knew that I needed to do, regardless of how emotionally draining and upsetting it would be.

I have to admit it was harder than I thought it would be, though. I wanted to turn around and leave the compound after only seconds of being within role call square. It was too much to handle. Too hard to comprehend its magnitude. Too painful. Too raw.

Now that I’m looking back, I’m glad that I decided to go ahead and continue walking through the compound. To not go through would have been to act as if the horrors of the camp never happened for selfish, prideful reasons.

So what if I cried in front of groups upon groups of people today. Who cares that my feet got sore after wandering? Who cares that I was cold? What does it matter?

It really doesn’t.

No matter how “terrible” of a day you’re having, after experiencing Dachau you’re brought back to the reality that we’re blessed to be here and that each day is a gift and that the things we complain about are often petty and unwarranted.

Traveling to the memorial doesn’t just make you feel guilty for complaining, though. That’s not the intension of its exhibits, photographs and stories. What’s important is to live our lives with opened eyes to the reality that man can be truly barbaric, and that tolerance is of the utmost important.

History often repeats itself, this is true. But if the millions of people who tour concentration camps throughout Europe each year have a similar experience as mine, spreading the word of and living under the basic principles of humility gain new importance in their lives.

The victims of Dachau did not die in vain. Those who visit remember what happened there. I will always remember the words, the photographs and the suffering that occurred. People will no longer be silent, as the townspeople were, out of fear for personal safety or the consequences.

Never again.