All that I’ve written on this blog before was either because of love or burning anger. Sadly, in the world we live in, anger is so much stronger it makes love perish.
Shootings, terrorist attacks, slander, racism, Brexit, niggers, pakis, bohunks, polacks… These cruel words and vicious actions carry hatred no smaller than the one that made Nazis slaughter over 1,1 million Jews.
You would have thought that our generation’s sensitivity was bigger, or at least existent, especially in a place like Auschwitz. I thought that and hoped for it. And, as per usual, I was dissapointed. After visiting Auschwitz for the third time the other day, I noticed changes that made my blood boil.
The memorial that this former extermination camp has been for years now, a museum and a place left untouched for our reflection and understanding of what Holocaust truly was, to some seems as more of a tourist attraction that you simply CANNOT miss.
The only thing that makes it different from Disneyland is that instead of Minnie and Mickey you photograph the archived pictures of starved skeleton-like children, the victims of twisted medical experiments. Instead of admiring Elsa’s locks, you look at two tonnes of braided human hair, taken with force from Jewish girls and women and “recycled” as a valuable material.
I can see the difference between what is tragedy and what is entertainment here. It’s crystal clear to me. Not to some though.
Not to that Chinese woman who barges in with a tablet and takes photos in the universally marked places where photos are strictly not allowed.
Not to the mother and daughter from Spain, who grin from ear to ear making sure the selfie stick is long enough to capture their smiling, ignorant faces with 40, 000 pairs of murdered prisoners’ shoes in the background.
Not to the man whose highlight of the trip is the ‘me and the Jew furnace’ photo, taken eagerly by his wife.
I am still ashamed of humanity for what it did, with cold blood and unimaginable cruelty, to millions of innocent lives. It fills me with so much disgust and anger I can hardly breathe. But on a day like this, it is those people who I am more ashamed of.
If you are mature enough to visit Holocaust memorials, let the horrible images you see sink deep into your brain and your memory, not your SD card.
And if you haven’t got enough brain cells to comprehend – at least have some fucking respect.Or go and see Goofy instead.