Part / Teil II:
Testimonies, Reflections
Zeugnisse, Reflexionen
Artwork: auschwitz3, © Rami Efal, Israel/USA
Ajeya van Drunen
Immensity, Urgency
What has really overwhelmed me was the immensity of what has happened there. Being at Auschwitz and Birkenau, it was amazing how silent the places where â as if every being was beyond comprehension, totally silenced by the impact of what has taken place there.
Imagine that ordinary people could do this, because most of the Germans where âordinaryâ people in daily life. It is scary how such indoctrination can influence us â all of us.
Imagine the strength of the Jewish people to undergo such a torture, to survive such a horror.
And imagine the people around, the Europeans, bearing witness to what happened; many knew but didnât respond, didnât let the truth in.
I felt the urgency to bear witness to what was going on then and is going on now, to let life enter and touch us, and to respond on a deep level.
Netherlands (2012)
Unermesslich, dringlich
Was mich wirklich ĂŒberwĂ€ltigt hat, war das ungeheure AusmaĂ dessen, was dort geschehen ist. Das Erstaunliche in Auschwitz und Birkenau war die groĂe Stille an beiden Orten â als hĂ€tte das Unbegreifliche jedes Wesen vollkommen verstummen lassen angesichts dessen, was sich dort ereignete.
Sich vorzustellen, dass normale Menschen dazu in der Lage waren, denn die meisten Deutschen waren in ihrem tĂ€glichen Leben ânormaleâ Menschen. Es ist beĂ€ngstigend, wie eine derartige Indoktrinierung uns alle beeinflussen kann.
Die jĂŒdische StĂ€rke, eine solche Qual zu ertragen, ein solches Grauen zu ĂŒberleben.
Und die Menschen ringsherum, die EuropÀer; viele wussten Bescheid, aber haben nicht reagiert, die Wahrheit nicht zugelassen.
Ich fĂŒhlte die Dringlichkeit, Zeugnis abzulegen von dem, was damals vor sich ging und was jetzt vor sich geht, das Leben hereinzubitten, uns berĂŒhren zu lassen und auf einer tiefen Ebene zu antworten.
Niederlande (2012)
Andreas Leszkovsky
Zeugnisablegen â in Auschwitz, in Wien
Im November 2005 sinnierte ich auf der Zugfahrt von Auschwitz heim nach Wien, was ich denn nun gelernt, was ich mitgenommen hĂ€tte aus meiner Erfahrung des BearingWitness-Retreats im ehemaligen Konzentrationslager Auschwitz-Birkenau. FĂŒr mich war es das anstrengendste Retreat, das ich bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt durchlebt hatte. Was also hatte ich gelernt?
Die Landschaften Polens, dann Tschechiens und Ăsterreichs zogen an mir vorbei. Ich war leer, emotional und körperlich ausgelaugt. Im Laufe der folgenden Wochen wurde es mir immer klarer, dass meine Teilnahme an diesem Retreat eine Perle im universellen Netz Indras war. Ich erfuhr Heilung, und ĂŒber mich erfuhren weitere Wesen Heilung. In meinem Alltag wurde ich sensibler gegenĂŒber meinen eigenen kleinen âGenozidenâ: Wann töte ich? Wodurch vernichte ich?
Ich spĂŒrte Dankbarkeit, empfand Verbundenheit. Es gibt nichts zu erreichen, ich bin einfach dankbar.
Immer wieder ertappe ich mich dabei, mich getrennt zu fĂŒhlen. In diesen Momenten wird mir die Wurzel allen Hasses wieder ganz offenbar. Die Ăbung geht weiter.
Am Freitag â in diesem Mai 2015 â werde ich mit dem Bezirksteam der NEOS (eine junge Partei fĂŒr ein neues, liberales Ăsterreich, in der ich mitwirke â ein Mosaikstein meines sozialen Engagements) in Wiens Rudolfsheim-FĂŒnfhaus das Bezirksmuseum besuchen. Dort möchte ich Fragen stellen: Was weiĂ man ĂŒber die Ermordeten des ehemaligen jĂŒdischen Viertels im Bezirk? Wie viele starben zum Beispiel in Maly Trostinec, dem Ort, an dem die meisten Wienerinnen und Wiener ermordet wurden? Gibt es Namen? Was weiĂ man ĂŒber sie?
Ich möchte nicht schreien, möchte keine Parolen hören. Ich möchte trauern und die Stimmen der Erinnerung in mir hören. Ich will dem Unfassbaren Namen geben. Und dann ganz still sein.
Bis hierher reicht mein BearingWitness-Retreat vor zehn Jahren âŠ
Ăsterreich (2005)
Bearing Witness â in Auschwitz, in Vienna
In November 2005, while travelling home to Vienna from Auschwitz by train, I reflected on what I had learned, what I would take home from the Bearing Witness Retreat in the former concentration camp at Auschwitz-Birkenau. For me it was the most arduous retreat that I had undergone to this date. So what did I learn?
The landscapes of Poland, then Czech Republic and Austria, passed by. I was empty, emotionally and physically drained. Throughout the following weeks it became more and more clear to me that my attending this retreat was a pearl in the universal net of Indra. I experienced healing, and through me, other beings experienced healing. In my everyday life, I became more conscious about my own little âgenocidesâ: When do I kill? How do I destroy? â I felt gratitude, connectedness. Thereâs nothing to achieve, I am simply grateful.
Again and again I find myself feeling separated, disconnected. In these moments, the root of all hatred reveals itself to me clearly. The exercise goes on.
Next Friday â in this May of 2015, the time I write this â I will visit the local museum of the district Rudolfsheim-FĂŒnfhaus in Vienna, with the district team of the NEOS (a young and transformative political party that I am campaigning for as part of my social action). I want to ask questions there: What do they know about those killed in the former Jewish quarter of that district? How many died, for example in Maly Trostinec, the place where most of the Viennese were killed? What were their names? What is known about them?
I donât want to scream, donât want to hear rallying cries. I want to mourn and to listen to the voice of remembrance inside me. I want to name what is inconceivable. And then fall silent.
My Bearing Witness Retreat of ten years ago reaches out to this very moment âŠ
Austria (2005)
Anita Fecht Kline
How I Came to Meditate beside the Tracks at Auschwitz
AUSCHWITZ. The name and its load of dark images called to me from the pages of a book on socially-engaged Buddhism. The Zen Peacemakers, the book said, organize an annual retreat to meditate there. I knew immediately I wanted to go.
Nine months later, in November 2012, I landed in KrakĂłw. Waiting at the airport kiosk to exchange Euros for Polish Zloty, I heard an American voice ask, âPeacemaker?â I smiled an enthusiastic, âYes!â
Between that first intuitive âYesâ while reading and the second confident one, I encountered other voices â bewildered friends, skeptical family, and a multitude of loud and doubtful interrogators in my own mind.
In an effort to dispel these doubts, I talked to Ginni Stern, a wonderful woman who coordinates the retreats from her home in Vermont. Ginni was reassuring. She explained that the group would include many people with the same questions I had and similar âreasonsâ for being there. There would be Jews from Israel, the U.S. and Europe who came to remember the victims. And, yes, there would certainly be non-Jews, including some from Palestine. There would surely be people from Germany and probably some with direct family ties to the perpetrators. It was not uncommon, Ginni said, for people like me â people of non-Jewish German descent â to experience a life-long sense of pain because of their national identity. Like me, she said, these people often felt a deep desire for peace within themselves and between people in the world. They went on retreat to see if this path of Bearing Witness to the Holocaust could be a way toward that peace and understanding.
Reading Bernieâs book Bearing Witness helped to dispel other concerns. Also, Bernie then at 73, was even a little older than I. If Bernie could do it ⊠I could do it!
I registered, paid my money, and bought plane tickets to Europe, having decided to begin my adventure with a visit to learn about my paternal âfamily rootsâ in Germany.
Most importantly, I took to heart one of the three tenets of the Zen Peacemakers: Not-Knowing. Keep the mind open. Let go of fixed ideas.
I didnât have to know why. I only needed to trust my intuition that something in me and in the world might be healed by bearing witness, along with a diverse group of others, to the horror of what took place at Auschwitz-Birkenau. I could, and would, simply keep saying, âI donât know exactly why Iâm going, but it feels right.â
And, in fact, it was.
Wie es kam, dass ich neben den Gleisen von Auschwitz meditierte
AUSCHWITZ. Der Name und seine Last dĂŒsterer Bilder riefen nach mir aus den Seiten eines Buches ĂŒber gesellschaftlich engagierten Buddhismus. Die ZenPeacemaker, so hieĂ es in dem Buch, richteten dort ein jĂ€hrliches Meditationsretreat aus. Ich wusste sofort, dass ich hinfahren wollte.
Neun Monate spĂ€ter, im November 2012, landete ich in KrakĂłw. Als ich im Flughafenterminal am Geldschalter wartete, um Euro in polnische Zloty umzutauschen, hörte ich eine amerikanische Stimme hinter mir: âPeacemaker?â Ich lĂ€chelte ein be...