This weekend was one of our busier weekends on this trip. We visited Hamburg, where we got to witness how graffiti and street art can be used as an act of civil disobedience, watched an amazing play which discussed refugees and migration and the intricacies of the experience, and visited a concentration camp called Sachsenhausen, where our plans for the day were derailed by a flash flood.
That's right, a flash flood. In June. That's not something we are used to on the west coast, especially not in California. The day started off pretty mild. It was cloudy outside and raining, but it's wasn't too bad. When we hopped on the train to get to Sachsenhausen it didn't seem like the rain would be getting worse. We were wrong. By the time our train ride was over it had started pouring outside. Everyone was huddled in the train station, taking shelter from the storm brewing outside as we waited for the bus that would take us to our destination. “Do you want to split the cost of an umbrella? I think we should get an umbrella.” Little did I know this suggestion was the best idea Sophia, another lovely UW Berliner, could have possibly made. “Yeah let's do it.” And then we were off. As the rain had let up a bit, and the bus seemed to be taking too long, we decided we would walk to Sachsenhausen. It wasn't too far: a 15 minute walk at the most, but as we got closed and closer the rain began to pick up again, along with some wind. At this point, I could feel my feet sloshing in my soggy converse. Those who did not have umbrellas were starting to feel the rain soak through their jackets, and yet we carried on. It seemed very fitting that the day we toured a concentration camp would be the day the weather was the most miserable. To hear the stories of what happened in these camps is one thing, but to actually be where it happened, to see these camps in person, is another thing entirely. Add the discomfort and unpleasantness we felt from the cold and our soaked clothing and the emotions were well matched to the atmosphere of Sachsenhausen. These rooms are haunted with memories of abuses so horrific that even our guide said she could not bring herself to be an expert on everything for the sake of her own sanity. One story stood out to me: the story of the Jewish children who were medically experimented on. They were seen as expendable, and therefore were often injected with diseases so that the doctors could later experiment with cures. I wonder how anyone can see another human being, specifically a child, and see something expendable. By the time we had left the camp, the mood was somber: a mixture of the the nature of our trip and the miserable feeling of having your clothes soaked all the way through. As we all huddled around each other, waiting for the bus to come, the storm became harsher. We had already given up on being dry, the task now was to get out before it got worse: an idea that was shared with everyone at the camp that day. There were at least 60 people huddled at that stop, and when the bus finally arrived, we packed it so full that I truly began to understand the expression “like a can of sardines.” The good news was that we made it on the bus. We were good to go. As we drove through the street we saw the water rise higher and higher. Cars were almost up to their windows in water, and there was a steady stream of water leaking into the bus through the cracks in the door. Then the bus stopped, the engine shut off, and the lights went out. A panicked murmur spread through the passengers, then people started getting nervous. “Hey! Open the door! We want to get out!” “Open the door” Bang! Someone slammed the emergency exit button and a flood of people streamed out of the bus, right into knee drop flood water. “Let's go!” We followed Niki’s lead and we slowly ran through the water. As cars slowly passed us, pushing the current higher. “This way!” There was a building! A school that was open! We ran inside and took shelter. A janitor ushered us into a classroom, none to happy about us tracking in water wherever we stepped, but understanding of the situation we were in. People began to peel off their layers and wrong out their clothing in the sink. We were all soaked, cold, and not too happy about our current situation. “The trains aren't running” “Are we staying here tonight?” “No way I'm gonna find a hotel nearby if we're sleeping here tonight” “Manuela says the trains are running” “It's gonna be fine!” “I say we head for the train station. I'd rather get stuck closer to town then here” And so, after an hour of waiting and discussion, we headed out. The water had gone down, but the rain and the wind were still going strong. We tracked our way to town, following some local Germans who had also taken to the school for shelter, and then, in the distance, the train station appeared. The trains were running, and before we knew it we would be back in our hostel with warm showers and dry clothing waiting to comfort us after our long day.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
An eye-opening tripI believe this trip truly gave me an opportunity to see how the stories that are told in political areans have (or don't have) an affect on ouublic perception and actions... this was something I was eager to expand on going forward Archives
August 2017
Categories |