Dec. 3: Visiting a Holocaust museum

Tara and I are at a Japanese botanical garden. I didn't know places liked this existed, especially not in Argentina.

It's pretty, there are so many trees and plans and water runs though it all. Each plant species is labeled, though I don't read Spanish or Japanese. I don't think it would matter much to me anyways. I can't really tell the difference between plants and such.

I walked around and took about 60 more photos then I probably needed to. The memory card on the camera my sister's got me can hold 3,000 pictures, so being selective is something I'm not while I'm taking pictures.

After a few minutes of walking though the park, Tara decided to sit down on one of the benches for a while. I completed my tour of the park and realized a lot of people seem to be enjoying sitting on a bench in the park and thought there might be something to the idea.

SoI found my own bench and sat down.

From there, I began to wonder about what people think about when people sit on park benches and think. After a couple of minutes, this couple sat next to me and I began to wonder what they were sitting there thinking about.

Then I started to worry that I wasn't doing a very good job of sitting there thinking about stuff if I was sitting there thinking about what everyone else was thinking about.

A few more minutes later, I was able to have thoughts of my own. Then I realized if I was going to think about stuff, I'd much rather walk around then sit there and think about stuff, which makes sense since I like to pace when I'm thinking about stuff.

I walked around the park another time, decided I was tired of walking so I grabbed my notebook from Tara's bag so I could start writing.

We went to a Holocaust museum today. It was interesting to learn how something in one part of the world affected another country though that country's eyes.

When Tara first suggested the museum, I knew it would be sad and depressing. I also knew that it would be educational. We learn about the Holocaust and everyone would agree it's bad, but I don't think people realize just how bad it was until they see something that makes it real.

It's easy to distance yourself from words read from a page, but it's completely different to see something that quantifies the damage caused. It just grabs your attention and sinks in.

I had such a moment of my own while walking on the Freedom Trail my first time in Boston.

There I found a memorial to the victims of the Holocaust. There were six towers of glass that straddled the sidewalk. Each tower had six sheets of glass on each of its four sides -expect the bottom, which had two so you could use the sidewalk. Each sheet of glass, which were as tall as I am, had the serial numbers assigned to those killed during the Holocaust.

There were so many numbers. I just stood there trying to take it all in.

The Freedom Trail is a three-inch red line painted through Boston that is literally a path though America's history. My tour guide explained the memorial was set up on the trail to remind people what a world without freedom would look like. It's unexpectedness added to the weight of the memorial's message.

So when Tara asked if I wanted to go to the Holocaust museum, I said yes, knowing what she would find there.

The museum was sombering and sad as one might expect, though it might have been more sad if I could read Spanish. I mostly looked at the pictures and read the info packet I was handed at the door.

Tara later said she would have translated the displays for me. I knew she would have, had I asked, but I didn't want my lack of the Spanish language to take away from her museum-visiting experience, so I didn't ask.

I came across some photos of German soldiers and they made me wonder if I had been alive and German back then, would I have participated in the Holocaust too?

It's hard to imagine a scenario where I wouldn't have served in the German army. The country was extremely pro-military in the build up to the war and I'm a soldier, soldiers serve in wars.

I wonder what went though the minds of the soldier's carrying out Hitler's orders.

As a platoon leader, I hope I never have to lead soldiers into such an unjust war. I stood there thinking about the justness of Bush's war in Iraq. The bottom line is the people of my country elected a man as president and that man did what he thought he needed to do to protect our country. Right or wrong, that's enough for me. It has to be.

Did the soldiers of WWII tell themselves the same thing?

Man, what I wouldn't give to spend ten minutes across the table from a German WWII soldier.

They had information there about Dulfur, a reminder that genocide still exist today. How much longer until the world stands up and does something about it? Why do we fight some wars and turn our backs on others?