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On my last day in Berlin I took the train to Oranienburg and went to Sachsenhausen Concentration camp and Memorial. I spent about 4 hours there. I don't think I can possibly go into what it was like in enough detail to revisit that kind of feeling, it was overwhelming and yet it was like it wasn't real, it could be real, cos how could such horrible things be really true, I mean its different to reading about it and talking about it, this is about as close as it gets to seeing these awful awful things.
Accounts and interviews and cartoons drawn in the kitchen and pyjamas and old syringes old bathrooms and rusty toilets and bunk beds and blue and white stripes and numbers and the star of david and the gallows and the roll call area and the first crematorium and the mass graves and the SS headquarters and the remnants of a life through scratches on a brick wall and strips of boot leather and cold hard stone. There is this real kind of numbness operating when you walk into a place like this. This sorrow, the dead, this memory which i am not connected to but kindof choose to be because of my humanity.
I have never known such direct contact with history. I am so glad I went and will never forget it.
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