
Upon checking out of our hostel/apartment in Reykjavik, we were picked up by an airport shuttle by a young Polish man with a stunning haircut (hint: his head was shaved, just like mine and half the other men in Poland). Upon finding out that our next major stop was Krakow, his eyes absolutely lit up with joy, exclaiming, “MY HOME COUNTRY?!?”
Upon hearing this news, our driver began talking about all the things to see and do in his home country, but when he asked where we were going and we told him Krakow, his joy suddenly turned somber. This man seemed reluctant to call Auschwitz by its name, referring to it as “the unspeakable place” instead. He lamented the reputation of his beloved Poland as being tarnished by the last 80 years of history there, reminding us that there are hundreds of years of storied history to explore in addition to that most fateful and terrible series of events for which it is known. Continue reading “Arrival in Krakow, Feeling the Weight of History Bearing Down” →
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