Tiny Red Shoes

by Cagla Ulas (Turkey)

A leap into the unknown Poland

It was a hot and sunny day the day we had our trip to Auschwitz, Krakow. Our tour guide picked us up from Krakow’s city center, and it took us about 1 hour to reach the Auschwitz museum. The whole journey we followed one simple road between green straight valleys. The scene looked peaceful and isolated. Looking out of the window and thinking about the history felt already thrilling as we were going to the unknown yet known. When we reached there, there was a queue at the entrance of the museum. I observed the place while we were waiting, I thought it was so peaceful again on the contrary of what had happened here many years ago. Our tour began as we passed the security. And the first thing I noticed was the letters carved above us: ‘Arbeit macht frei’. Work sets you free. Behind the carved letters there were little buildings. As we discovered what was there inside, it showed us the photos of the war, letters, inhumane conditions of where prisoners were living. There were suitcases, shoes, clothes, human hair that belonged to them. One thing caught my attention. Between the shoes pile I saw one tiny pair of red shoes. How tiny they are I thought. And as I looked closer at the human hair I noticed two golden blonde braids. My own reflection in the glass was staring at me. I had the tiny red shoes on. And I had golden blonde braided hair. Then a face of an angry woman appeared right behind me. She held my head, cut my braids, and shaved my head. I had tears running down my cheeks. Outside this whole area was surrounded by barbed-wire fences, and there were watchtowers around. Between the blocks there were hangers. I imagined dead bodies swinging in space. One of them had tiny red shoes. The little kid was staring at the ground with dead eyes open. After the museum tour we went to Birkenau Camp which was the largest Nazi concentration camp. The camp was an open field where prisoners were working for hours in bad conditions in their thin clothes. There was a railway track. Our tour guide informed us that the prisoners were brought here by trains. In the camp there were also gas chambers that looked like black holes resembling eternity. A path to a painful death. On the right side of the camp there were small buildings resembling the ones in Auschwitz. Inside there were very uncomfortable looking bunks. And we learnt hundreds of people were sleeping here, and many of them would die in their sleep in the cold days freezing to death, or starving. As we came to an end of our tour, I eavesdropped on a father and his son’s conversation. The son asked his father why people did not try to escape. “If I was here I would escape, and organize other people to do so as well.” “It was not possible. The soldiers would shoot you.”the father said. Still the boy’s face didn’t look disappointed, but I could tell he was still thinking of a way out. We left the gate of Birkenau behind. A group of people in uniforms were marching towards us, and in the front there was a very old man in the wheelchair. This old man was one of the survivors. I studied his face carefully, and all I remember now is the pain in his deep eyes. Once upon a time he was a young, hopeful boy when he was brought to this horrific place. Maybe he thought he could escape. He couldn’t. His eyes were a proof of all the cruel things he witnessed. I looked back at the gate for the last time. I saw the tiny pair of red shoes, and two golden blonde braids on the ground. “They are trying to escape.” I said to myself. But I don’t know if they could. I breathed in fresh air. I was alive. I was free.