(Writing this from the plane back to Rome, I was too tired last night.)
This day, our last day in Poland, was the most heart wrenching yet. It was cold, and we ran to the tram just as it pulled up, and made it to the city center train station with enough time for coffee (a big, normal cup of coffee) and pastries before our bus left.
We were headed for Auschwitz.
The eight of us were the first to dive to the back of the bus, which filled quickly, and the windows steamed as we drove. I don't want to say I was excited for Auschwitz, because that sounds sick. Part of the interesting experience traveling through Poland is seeing a country deeply effected, first hand, by a modern war and world war. Auschwitz is a rich and stark facet of that, and that is what compelled me. I am not particularly easy to faze, either. I'm not easily grossed out, shocked, or offended. I was in no way prepared for Auschwitz.
It is not easy to discuss, and I am not going to force the details that disturbed me, because the horror of the prison camp is not fodder for factoids. It snowed, and it was painful, and I wanted to leave, and I was only there for three hours with bathroom breaks. It had snowed in Niepokalanow, and it snowed when we exited the building that contained Maximillian Kolbe's cell, and it continued to snow all night. I don't know exactly how this part of our pilgrimage will effect me, but even now, on the plane, stuffed with kremowka, I am shaken.
St. Maximillian Kolbe, pray for us.
We made it to the bus, free from the snow, and said a rosary on the drive.
After a late supper at the Milk Bar (I got the last plate of goulash... Sorry Allen) we met Peter at the Dominican church for Mass. Erin and I got there fifteen minutes early and the church was crowded; there was no room to sit. I thought perhaps there was adoration, or an earlier Mass was ending. By time Mass actually began, it was crammed. People stood elbow to elbow, some sat on the stairs to the choir loft. According to Peter it was part of a Lenten retreat. There must have been hundreds of people, all college age, and when we came to the sign of peace it felt like they were our friends. The priest told everyone to pray for the Conclave (in Polish, of course, but "conclavia" and "Ratzinger" are not difficult derivatives). I cannot believe it's started, but I'm even more shocked that odds are we won't miss it. Thank you Blessed Mother!
We journeyed back to the apartment one last time, ate another supper, and more chocolate, and played card games as we waited for "apple explosion" to finish baking. I bought beautiful playing cards from "that awesome market" (STILL don't know it's name). I said last night, and will repeat, I love these cards, because years from now I will use them at a party and tell my friends then that I used them to play hearts in a tiny apartment in Krakow with my college friends on the last night of our pilgrimage, and that is a beautiful thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment