i.
If you open a map, you will see a web of roads, all leading to Krakow. I can easily see why. The fusion of medieval fairy tale and present-day living is a story filled with vivid hues, a tapestry of cultures, and an insatiable sense of wonder. This city beckons you to come in.
ii.
Krakow brims with places of great importance. Even though slow travel means staying longer in a place, making thoughtful decisions about what to see and why remains crucial.
iii.
I hear of a place where saints, ghosts and demons, each go about their mysterious affairs. Some claim this underworld reaches depths of over 200 kilometres. The legend captivates me until I realise I prefer not to uncover all the hidden secrets in this place, so I only scratch the surface.
iv.
The goal is not to accumulate more knowledge, but to understand what lessons we’ve overlooked from history. ‘Cause each day, we awaken to a world that is extremely disturbing; old war, new war— To what extent can evil and crime thrive?
v.
Beyond the rich artistic life and cocktail drinks, there’s a place both sacred and haunted. A place that both questions and answers. I settle for it.
vi.
My understanding of the holocaust comes from books, movies, and glimpses of archival photographs I once saw at a museum in Cape Town. But “Seeing Auschwitz” or rather the idea of visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau in person is deeply unsettling. That’s why I’m up in the middle of the night, googling what to wear when visiting a concentration and extermination camp. I fuss about showing up appropriately.
vii.
Daring, but not yet brave, I set off to a place of silent contemplation. The sombre bus ride to the memorial site makes me question my choice of places to visit. Then I have a moment of insight: I will not complain about my discomfort; these people endured the most extreme conditions.
viii.
The answer to the question, to what extent can evil and crime thrive, stares back at me. Portraits of men, women and children with names, who were baptised in numbers, hang on the walls. A particular face, Martha’s, a young woman with her chin slightly tilted upwards as she looked straight at the camera, captures my attention. It’s a combination of grace and defiance, acting normal in these abnormal circumstances. It’s almost as if she’s refusing to let her challenges define her or to be seen as a victim. She brings an awareness to the good qualities and values of others around her, even in these dehumanising conditions.
ix.
As I walk through the gas chamber ruins, crematoria, and barracks, I carry Martha’s strength with me. This is neither to minimise their extreme suffering nor accommodate the holocaust, but my way of asset framing. Because in the end, everyone who survived or fell victim to the holocaust, re-emerges as a victor. Even today, we’re still eager to learn about or from them.
x.
Beyond race, class and other social identity markers, we are all human. It shouldn’t be difficult to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes.
xi.
A way of looking at interconnectedness is to see our own reflection in others, witness our humanness, the basic goodness that connects us all. And being interconnected doesn’t mean losing ourselves, because we each have individual strengths, hopes and dreams.
xii.
Beyond the profoundly moving and educational experience, Auschwitz reveals a shocking truth. It’s possible to be involved in genocide without harbouring hatred towards anyone. Think Hedwig in the movie, The Zone of Interest, who dedicates her time tending the garden of their idyllic home right next to the camp, pretending not to hear the gunshots, screams, and the sounds of trains bringing more people!
xiii.
Auschwitz-Birkenau is not a must-see or a place where one visits to pose for selfies. Being confronted with that kind of human suffering is an out-of-body experience. But it is a place everyone should visit, at least once in their lifetime. It is a reminder to view the world through the lens of interconnectedness, the state of being mutually related or connected.

PS. A new post “A Way of Looking at a Mountain” is coming up next Sunday. If you’re new to this series, A Way of Looking at Autumn’s First Breath is a good place to begin.
A deep and moving post, beautifully written. Here’s to the awareness of our common humanity
Khaya, your poetic prose reaches into all our hearts. Your gentle introduction leads us to the harshest of suffering. Your study of interconnectedness gives glimpse of hope and light from these darkest of times. During my year in Germany as part of our studies we visited Buchenwald, near Weimar. One of your sentences catches exactly how I felt – ‘ Being confronted with that kind of human suffering is an out-of-body experience’. Just so. My friends and I were rendered speechless for hours, the silence devastating. A touching post, my friend and I’m especially moved by your description of Maria and her inner strength and power. xx
Fantastic description!
Such depth of knowing/not knowing. Growing up, we had school assemblies with survivors of the holocaust speaking about their experiences – not the horrors so much as the admonition to ‘never forget’ and to learn from the past and not repeat it. In particular, I remember a woman repeating the phrase, “Separation of Church and State should be preserved at all costs”. I didn’t understand it so much then as I do now…
I remember viewing historic newsreels taken while troops liberated the captives of the camps with the horrific scenes of stacked bodies somehow taken with dignity towards those who suffered such indignities.
Anyway – this is written with (he)art – speaking to yet another generation to ‘never forget’. Brava, Khaya.
Hey Annika! It’s wonderful to hear your voice. These are indeed the darkest of times :(, sometimes keeping positive is almost impossible. But what will become of us if we let go of hope! I remember you once mentioned that you studied in Germany. I assume Buchenwald is both haunted and sacred as the Auschwitz. Yes, the experience is surreal, and yet it feels incredibly real at the same time. I can relate to you and your friends rendered speechless for hours. As an emphath, the experience suck up all my energy. While I was “happy” that I visited, I was also sure I’ll never visit again. It took days to recover. Anyway, thank you, my friend, for dropping by and for your kind comment. Be well and enjoy the autumn season!xx
And may we never forget our universal humanness! Thank you so much Mariss for taking time to read. I hope you’re having a wonderful spring!
Thanks Michele!
Welcome, Khaya! 😊
Oh, wow! Having interactions with survivors must have been quite something. The scene you describe of the troops liberating the captives is so vivid and heartbreaking. And yes, “learning from the past” is a persistent message. It was also communicated by our guide, who is a superb storyteller and made the whole tour so educational and meaningful. Sadly, it appears we have not learned from the past, given the current events. Laura, thank you for taking the time to read and contribute to this necessary conversation. Take care and enjoy the season!
What you’ve written is so necessary.
Recently, I was in the presence of Adrienne Marie Brown, who, loosely summarized said that we are coming to a point in time where we have to learn to be in community with one another…real community, not the kind that is tied to identity, because very soon we’re all going to need each other and we have to know who we can rely on.
I suppose what she said has always been true, right? And what you’ve shown here is part of the way—to recognize our interconnectedness regardless of perceived differences.
I really like Brown’s message a lot. It’s always been true and important to be in real community with each other. When considering who is first to lend a hand in times of need, it’s often our neighbours rather than our families or relatives, as they might be living far away or simply have other priorities. Yes, all these social identity markers shouldn’t be such a focus that we end up not seeing each other, at all or think we can’t reach out to others. Thanks so much Kathy for your input, and pointing me to Brown’s work. Take care!
Your writing about your visit is so moving, Khaya. It felt reverent and respectful, honoring the humanity of those who endured such evil. It seems sometimes that people have forgotten that we are more alike than unalike, and that we depend on each other is ways we may never realize. Thank you for sharing this profound experience.
I appreciate your comment a lot, especially that you found the post reverent and respectful. Writing about momentous, historical events such as this one is always a struggle for me. It leaves me questioning my ability to do such a topic justice. But we as humans have to keep reminding each other that we are more alike than different, indeed. Thanks to you too, Diana, for reading.
You definitely found the words and tone for such a post, Khaya. Your writing felt profound. And yes, reverent and respectful. <3 <3 I was blown away.
<3
How powerful. What an experience to walk through. Your words capture the complexity so well.
Thank you, Christina!
You are an extraordinary writer, Khaya. The words you use are poetic and woven together in a way that allows them to land on your heart ever so gently but with a subtle force, like something so necessary, if that makes sense. You’ve honoured people who suffered unimaginable horror with grace and beauty, and I’m deeply moved by what you wrote. When I was in Poland, I met a Holocaust survivor, and I remember feeling so small, so irrelevant, in the presence of someone who had overcome suffering at the hands of such vile disregard for life. I will never forget her. My whole life, I’ve always wondered how a mass extermination of people could have happened, but it’s never been more clear to me how it did because it’s happening again, and it terrifies me. I pray for those affected now and the potential terror to come for millions more. The world seems to be on the wrong track, but I have hope that goodness will prevail. It has to.
Tanya, your kind comments never cease to touch me. I’m humbled and honoured; thank you so very much for your encouraging feedback. I really appreciate it. And about the mass extermination of people happening as we speak, it’s a sad state of affairs! It’s all overwhelming at times. But we can’t lose hope, for what is the alternative!