even though I walk through the valley of death and dying

I will try my best to explain today to you, but forgive me if I do not do it justice or if you are offended by it.

Today we visited Auschwitz 1 and Auschwitz Berkenau.  I have been anticipating this day since I stepped off the plane in London.  My anticipation was to walk through horror and Hell, to sob, to feel anger, or to feel like I was going to throw up or pass-out at the atrocities of these places.  I have a tendency to be distant from this type of feeling, and I wanted to avoid that at all costs.  I wanted to learn whatever the Lord had for me to learn in this place.  Feel how he wanted me to feel.

(A distinction for those who do not know:  Auschwitz Berkenau is an extermination camp in which the Nazi’s murdered thousands of Jews and other types of peoples i.e. Russian POWs, gypsies, mentally disabled people, homosexuals, anti-socials, Poles, Czechs, and many others from German occupied areas.  Auschwitz 1 was a concentration camp that was built before Berkenau.  It conducted 5 months worth of extermination until Berkenau was built but was mostly a work camp and a prison.)

I will describe the second half of the day to you.  We visited and camp and memorial at Auschwitz 1 second in the day after Auschwitz Berkanua and lunch.  Because of what I had experienced at Berkenau, I did not know how I was going to feel.  To make it short, I could not feel much.  I saw the hair, I saw the shoes, I saw the mounds and mounds of glasses and dishes and suitcases and clothes.  The one thing I could not handle where the baby clothes and baby shoes.  The thought of the poor children..
As I walked through the barracks, I thought to myself “this is what Hell is like”.  I walked through horror and Hell.  But I felt that the Lord was protecting my heart, guiding my feelings.  I did not break down as I thought I would.  But I will not say that I was numb to what was around me.  I sang to myself…
“Even though I walk through the valley of death and dying, surely goodness will follow me, follow me.  In the house of God forever”



In the beginning of the day we had gone to Auschwitz Berkenau first.  For the first 45 minutes of the tour I was continually asking God how I should feel.  I was confused.  I kept looking at the trees.  I was affected at Sachsenhausen and have been deeply moved by many Holocaust documentaries and books.  The horror of that “event” is not lost on me.  As we made our way to the demolished gas chambers I looked up at the trees.  Today’s weather was incredible and they were so beautiful and silent.  But I pitied them.  I thought, “How does life grow here?  It shouldn’t grow here..  Should it grow here?”
Most people come to these places and feel extreme empathy, distress, trauma, and sadness.  But how does one house those emotions?  Where do we go from there?  How does life grow from the knowledge of such death?  I kept thinking about what I should do with the knowledge of that place.

Because of my education, I have heard a great deal about the Holocaust, the reasons behind it, the technology, the way the world made it possible.  And the evil made sense to me.  All of it’s awfulness, it made sense for a fallen world.

But I did not feel like the place was godless.  I am not saying that I have answers for why God allowed such evil to happen to his children.  I do not know why.  And I hate it.

But I felt the Lord’s presence so greatly in that place.  Not in a warm and happy way of course, not the way you feel after your favorite worship song or whatever.  It was more real than that.  I felt the presence of His power and wisdom.  It surrounded me from above and on all sides.  I knew that He saw our group in that place and He had seen everything that had happened there.
Nothing that happened has been lost on Him.

I did not know how I could feel this way.  And I knew that He felt anger, sadness, and pain at what happened.  I have felt that.  But I did not feel that today.

I could only swear that He loves his children.  And that he loved all that went there, Nazi and Jew, Pole and Czech, Hungarian and Gypsy.  And I CANNOT explain why it happened, but I know that He loves his children.  I was in that place and my trust in the Lord has never been stronger.  I felt like a tree whose roots were deep, deep, deep in trust in the Lord.  I could go nowhere out of His sight, out of His plan.

I felt His power.  His power is bigger than death, bigger than Auschwitz.  He defeated death.  As I thought of his power, wisdom, and love, I will say that I have never felt the presence of God more in my life than in Auschwitz Berkenau.  I have struggled for the past 2 years, more like the past 6, to know and feel the Lord’s love for me.  And as I thought of His love for the people sent to that place, I felt it and knew it a little more.  I do not think I would have asked to feel it there, but he loved his children, he loves me and guides me.

I walked back to the bus in the strangely warm autumn day, surrounded.

you better Czech yourself before you wreck yourself (because I didn't)

I was racing my friend Kyle with our suitcases on the way to our hotel in Prague. The back and white Czechered sidewalks had some potholes and I “ran” into one and rolled my ankle (2nd time since this summer). My pho-fiancé Ian carried me across the threshold of our hotel while my other wonderful classmates carried my bags. Kim ran to my side with ice, ankle braces, and more ice. It was a big deal folks.

I haven’t told y’all much about our trip leaders, but they are incredible. Ken and Kim Khilstrom two of the leaders who are professors from Westmont.  They travel with us, teach us, and completely take care of us. They are two of the most caring and generous people I know. Ken tells jokes more frequently than anyone, and half of them are just downright inappropriate, and we love them. He is a true Physics and World War II NERD. Very laid back, very enthusiastic, and a joy to be around. Kim has redefined cute precious adorable sweet and all of the above for me. She is all of those things and more. She takes care of all 43 of us (and Ken) so well and has this nervous giggle that is to die for. And the best part of about them is that their love for the Lord and for each other is evident in everything they do. Everything.

Anyways, I am in Prague!! I have heard countless incredible things about this city. All of them include the word “beautiful”. I am in one of the most beautiful cities on the planet- that is pretty damn cool. (It’s completely dark right now as I sit with my foot elevated and icing, so I cannot actually testify to that yet).

We spent less than 24 hours in Dresden and it was really a great time. Once we checked into My Bed Dresden (yes, that was our hotel) we went straight to a brewery for dinner. Now let me tell you, that was Germany. We sat in long tables, with cute candles and water as we picked at a little salad… and then the real meal came. There were GIANT platters of 3 different forms of potatoes, gravy, ham, sausage, corned beef, chicken, schnitzel, more sausage, sauerkraut, and more sausage. SO MUCH MEAT! And to think I am a pescaterian back home. I literally had to lie down on a bench because I had wrecked myself by eating so much. Dessert came out. It was a deep-fried something dough with ice cream, whipped cream, applesauce, and cinnamon. And then we had beer. We ordered two 5-liter barrels of beer that you pour out yourself at the table.

Here is a picture of my dear friend David and I at the end of it all:

Our tour of Dresden today was so good. Gabriel gives us a tour of each city on the first day we have there and they are my favorite part of this trip so far. Really though, I learn so much from him. Gabriel is a British Oxford graduate who has worked as journalist for BBC and now works as tour guide for most of Western Europe (he teaches our art course but could cover any course he chose). He truly is one of the most intelligent, helpful, sarcastic, and honest people I’ve ever met. He also walks and talks faster than anyone I’ve ever met (and you should see how fast my mother can walk)!

If you don’t know anything about Dresden, let me tell you the little I do. Before WWII Dresden was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It was known as the Florence of Northern Europe because of its riverside layout and beautiful Baroque buildings. The Allies literally leveled the city with bombs in WWII, destroying the entire city and killing about 40,000 civilians, mostly women and children. Due to the Ally bombing tactics and the city’s defenselessness, they created a natural phenomenon which is a called a “fire storm”. In a fire storm the bombings were so precise that they created a vacuum, ensuing a fire so hot (1000 C) that it melted the infrastructure of buildings and every floor collapsed which brought down every single building.

I am learning the horrors of war in this semester. And there are many. War holds so many aspects to it- there is strategy, there is politics, there is economics, there is costs and proportionality, and then there is death. Oh there is death. I am learning about the man-made sport of death. The millions of lives that could have been. The people that never lived because of war. The suffering and anguish of their death.

I have no answers for war. I will not sit here and tell you that I am a full pacifist and that all wars are worthless. There is evil that must be stopped in this world and I seriously am not attempting to put on false humility when I say that I have NO idea what to do about it.

But I know that I hate this. The death of millions over often empty ideals, mere target cities, and strategies of war. Children of God. Valued souls and bodies. Loved and lonely people. Gone.

That is all I can tell you for now. The ice on my ankle has melted now.

hitting 'the wall' in Berlin, imagine that

I have now spent a week in this city.  I didn't know much of what to think when I came to Berlin.  I kept expecting to see the real city around every corner, but it all looked the same.  Tall, flat buildings with millions of windows and graffiti.  Every other shop was for hipster clothing, hipster shoes, or a hipster bar. And I've grown to really like it.  Like Amsterdam, I do not feel like I need to be something I am not here.  Maybe that confidence is just coming with the more time spent in Europe.  I am American, I do not have crazy hip clothes, I never know where I am or where I am going, and I hang around 42 other people exactly the same way.. and that is just the way it is.  Berlin has also presented me with extremely nice and gracious people.  And for the record, the German language is not as grotesque as people put it out to be.  It sounds very normal for lack of a better word.  It just sounds like a language.  Dutch is far stranger if you ask me.  And you might as well be asking me, it's my blog!

Now, I say that I "hit the wall" here.  We did not have an entire free day here in Berlin, the most time we had off at a time was about 5 hours.  The rest of the time was filled with almost entirely lectures.  We stayed in Bruges and Amsterdam for such short periods of time that we basically have been traveling all 43 of us for what felt like at least 6 days.
So 6 days of traveling + 7 hour class days + 43 college students - alone time - privacy + the discomfort of traveling in general = a very upset Laura.

I am not sure if this is permanent, but I think I became some what of an introvert this summer and that has carried over into Europe Semester.  During my years at home in Rocklin, alone time was built into my schedule.  Every time I drove to school, work, or church I was alone.  And once my brothers moved out, anytime I was at home, that was paired with a great deal of alone time in my room.  In college it was hard for me, but I have been blessed with wonderful roommates and the opportunity to find that time in my room apart from people.  This summer at Woodleaf provided me with simultaneously a great deal of alone time and practically no alone time at all.  The Falck House seemed to always be full, but I found so much joy and peace in the mornings when I would water and weed by myself.  And now I find myself here.  Never living alone, never learning alone, practically never eating alone, and barely traveling alone.  The only times I am separate from people is in the bathroom and when I sleep.  But not even sleeping since I am always with roommates.  It's an illusion.

After all of the classes, traveling, forced conversation, loud chatter, and roommate life, I lost it.  There was no crying to myself and rocking in a corner, but I might have done that if I even had the chance to.  It has been a week of irritability and frustration, not wanting to talk much or 'process' with anyone.

There have been beautiful breaks from that frustration though.  When I feel like this group is going to be the end of me, I cook a meal with some of dear friends and have normal conversation full of laughter and honesty, and I find hope and rest again.  Those nights are spent in our hotels, not out in the lively European cities we inhabit, but they have been some of my favorite memories so far.  We had a free couple hours yesterday morning which I took to my advantage.  I navigated my way across town to pick up some tennis shoes and then ate a sandwich by myself in the most beautiful park.  I sat silently under a tree by a stream.  And that is all I could have ever wanted, truly.

There has been a serious contrast of experiences here.  Hitting the wall, classes and tours on Nazism and the Holocaust, a visit to Sachsenhausen (a concentration camp),  tours of the Berlin Wall(s), dark Expressionist and Romantic paintings, etc.   But also beautiful Expressionist and Romantic paintings, Karaoke night, incredible kebabs, hilarious cabaret, trendy wine bars etc.


These hard times I've been living in are inevitable while traveling.  I think I hit mini-walls every day actually.  And I will probably hit this one again in a month or so.  But that is expected, that is traveling, that is life.  I am thankful that I am in the presence of classmates that understand that and are supportive.  Although Berlin has not been the easiest place we've been, I am grateful for it.

thoughts from the train

I sit on a train traveling from Amsterdam to Berlin.  But let me backtrack.

I spent 2 days in Bruges, Belgium.  It is one of the best-preserved Medieval cities in the world.  Very quaint, very touristy, very expensive.  We had gotten assigned a giant art assignment, basically summarizing the entire Story of Art.  We were in the nicest hotel I’ve ever been in, so it wasn’t the worst place to do homework in. 

-study for 3 hours, drink tea, eat chocolate, go our for a waffle break, come back, repeat-

End the night with beer and watching Colin Ferrell’s dark comedy “In Bruges”.

It was actually a great time.  We needed to get out of the culture and business London provided.  And it felt like we were back at Westmont again.  The intense academic atmosphere interrupted with fits of silliness made me feel at home.  That’s what we do.  We run our minds into the ground studying and come out laughing in delirium.

Next was Amsterdam.  Most of the group was not looking forward to this city, and most of them did not know why we were visiting it.  I sat in between indifferent and optimistic towards the city. 

I loved Amsterdam.  It is one of my favorite cities I’ve ever been to.  The tall yellow and green trees lining every street with the peaceful canals and simple architecture were perfect.  There was diversity on every street reminding me strongly of San Francisco.  It is full of so many young people of all kinds that I finally felt comfortable and accepted, unlike the poorly dressed tourist that I feel like in most countries we visit. 

And although I loved the city, it was not all positive and enjoyable.  We stayed in a Christian hostel in the center of the Red Light district.  I welcomed this space and this idea.  Because I am a Westmont student, I hear heart-breaking stories about the world constantly.  I am thankful for that.  I am so blessed to attend a college that truly is globally minded and compassionate about those suffering in our world.  But it is easy to become numb to suffering, especially when you find it difficult to act upon that information.  Not only do I become numb, but I struggle with compassion in general.  It is a trait that I have prayed for and desired for a long time. 

And so, I was really looking forward to being so near to the struggles of this city, to see the brokenness and not be able to escape it as quickly as a I leave the gym from Chapel.

Amsterdam was fake to me before I even arrived.  It was a strange place where marijuana and prostitution are legal and it ends there. 

It seemed to be fake when I was there. 

Our hostel was next to a Thia Massage brothel with women in the windows 24-hours a day.  I walked the district with a few friends on our last night in the city.  Women tap on the glass, open the doors to talk to you, look you in the eyes, talk on cell phones as they wait.  I saw men ring the doorbells and enter.  I saw people walk the streets and laugh at these women.  The red and neon lights glow as though you walk through a sick amusement park of sadness and sin.  It is so very real.  But it is so very empty.  Something so terrible, so disgusting, so... sad, cannot make itself fully real to me.  It is a city full of lies about life and human beings and value that I do not see how I could see it completely.

I saw the sin as real.  I saw the emptiness as real.  I saw the addiction as real.  I saw the twisted treatment of God’s gracious gifts as real.  My pity for that place was real. 

That was the saddest and emptiest place I’ve ever been.  But Jesus is my truth, and his life is my reality.

And now I am on my way to Germany.  Excited to see what it has to offer, I have no idea what is ahead of me. 

seeing to see

I told y'all I'd explain some things that went through my mind in the Louvre, and so I shall...


I put everything I had into that museum.  I wanted to absorb as much as I could handle.  I chose not to bring my camera, partially because it is heavy, and partially because I wanted to be intimate with my understanding of the paintings- I did not want be concerned with taking photos (who was in front of the painting and wouldn't move, the glare of the lights, my camera settings etc).

I think I was 1 of a mere 100 people in the Louvre with that perspective.

EVERYONE (especially certain stereotypical groups of tourists) just blazed straight through the museum with their headsets, their meaningless chatter, and their flashing cameras.  I did not just witness this in the Louvre, but I see it in every place we have gone to, almost every inch of Europe.
     "Oh, this is famous.  Oh this is really famous. Take a picture of me here, and here, and here!"


With a few exceptions, most people I encounter in Europe are here to say they've been here.  Here to say they saw it.  Here to prove they have the money to see it.  Here to pretend they are cultured.  Here to gain information to sound smart when they return home.  Then they see it.  Then they move on.  5 minutes in front of the greatest art mankind has every seen.  15 minutes in front of the greatest architecture, the greatest technological feats in history.

And this is my bitter view of these people.  I do not want to dwell on my judgements of them.  I do not want to judge them.  I do not want to let these thoughts ruin my experiences, because these people are not going to go away.  And not only that, but I can be like them.  I am like them.  I do not give every single painting, building, lecture, or tour all of my attention.  THAT is impossible.
     But this is what I am doing and what I will continue to strive to do on this trip...

I will humble myself in these places.  I will not merely understand associatively with the greatest pieces of art.  I will listen to and read from people who know more than I do.  I will weave it into my everyday life, finding it's importance in history and it's importance to me (especially to my faith).
I will NOT see things just to see them.  If a building, painting, sculpture, or street truly means nothing to me and I cannot get a meaningful piece of knowledge from it (no matter it's historical importance), I will not see it- and definitely will not take a picture of it.

I did not come to sight see.  I came to watch and to listen and to understand so that I may to learn.  I came to be better than I am.

first things in Paris

We arrived in a hurry.  We went straight from the bus to a group dinner with incredible cesaer salad and creme brule.  As we left the resteraunt we caught our first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.  It hit us all at the same time- we're in PARIS!  Everyone was smiling, laughing, taking pictures, talking in excited tones.  We couldn't handle it.  

We then got on a boat and floated down the Seine River through the center of the city.

We saw the Louvre, Notre Dame, famous government buildings, the Eiffel Tower, everything.  Soon the sun set and we lost it again.  It was breathe-taking.  But that wasn't enough.  A rainbow started to solidify in the clouds.  9 o-clock hit and the Eiffel Tower dazzled us as it sparkled for 5 minutes straight.  Can I even explain this to you?  We had been in Paris less that 3 hours and all of this was happening all around us.  It was honestly magical.  I fell in love with Paris.

London did not impress me.  People kept talking about the "energy" of the city.  I felt nothing.  It was empty.  Full of fashion, working, and drinking.

But Paris.  I feel the energy here.  We had a lot of class since our first night in the city.  Our first paper was assigned and so most of our free time has been spent in our hotels researching and writing.  So I will admit that I have not had much time to explore.  But somehow, I love this city.  Saying it is beautiful does not describe it to you, but everything about it is beautiful.

(picture from the cruise)

Our living situations right now are hotel apartments with 4 people per apartment.  I have had wonderful wonderful meals of pasta, salad, bread, dark chocolate, and wine with two of my roommates (Laura and Mackenzie).  We shared stories, listened to country music, laughed, and enjoyed our lovely view. (Including the lovely view of our man neighbor whom we have named Pierre.  He likes to wash his windows shirtless). 

This is what I thought of when I envisioned Europe Semester (not Peirre, everything else).

I have decided to attend a church service in every city that we go to (that falls on a Sunday).  This Sunday a group of us went to Sainte Chapelle before our International Mass at Notre Dame.  Sainte Chapelle is mind-blowing,  every single wall is stained glass from nearly floor to ceiling.  The chapel itself tells 1,113 stories from the Bible.  What.  The.  Heck.

But in every cathedral I enter I continually think of the windows at the top of these churches.  Part of the reason of stained glass is so that the illiterate people at the time could know Bible stories visually.  But no one can see nor read those windows 50 ft high.  I know that is not a profound thought, but what is their point then?  There is beauty, but where does beauty override Gospel purpose in these places?

Notre Dame was incredible in an entirely different way.  In class this week we better learned of the physics of Romanesque and Gothic cathedrals, so my experience in that church was heightened by this new knowledge.  It is incredible.  Though we went to the International Mass, it was still about 90% in French.  I had not even been to a mass in English before so this was all entirely foreign to me.  I was drifting off and decided to pray for most of the service.  (Thomas, Daniel, Mom, Sam, Eric- I prayed for you in the Notre Dame, how cool is that?!)

After writing papers all day, some of us decided we needed a break.  We took the metro to the island on the Seine that Notre Dame is on and had literally the world's best ice cream.  It is only found on this island.  But once I got my chocolate and pistachio cone, the heavens opened up.  It rained SO HARD.  Everyone abandoned the streets and ran into shops for cover.  We sat under an overhang outside a little cafe until our ice cream was gone..  then we just decided to run for it.  We were the only ones in the streets of Paris because all of the locals knew it would be over in about 10 minutes.  But we didn't care.  We were soaked through and through, running through puddles are warm, refreshing rain.


Today we spent most of our day in the Louvre.  (I plan on telling y'all about that experience later).  We returned to the hotel, wrote more of our papers, then ended the evening with a picnic with the whole group (45 people) on the lawn beneath the Eiffel Tower.  We watched the sun set from the tower and went to the top as the lights sparkled.
My friend Ian performed a fake proposal to me on the top of the tower which some strangers video taped (You Tube baby).  That's right, I'M ENGAGED.  Being on the Eiffel Tower with so many friends was so wonderful.  Being in Paris with so many friends is incredible.  I am full of so much joy and excitement as I recall all of this.  We ended our night with crepes, ice cream, and the finishing of history papers.


Tomorrow: Versailles!


Bonsoir,


Laura