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Death camp
Journal of a trip through Auschwitz and Birkenau.
When I was 16, I developed an obsession with the Holocaust. I was both horrified by all the cruelty in that piece of human history and, at the same time, fascinated by the heroic stories of people who defied that growing system, often risking and losing their lives. I believe that in times of war and despair, people are tempted by the worst in them — our survival instincts work in mysterious ways — , and that’s something I’m lucky to never have experienced. Nonetheless, I deeply admire that under the same circumstances, some people reveal their very best self.
Because of that, I became eager to visit Auschwitz. This is the photographic record of my trip there.
On one of the blocks, a long corridor holds pictures of dozens of prisoners that passed through the concentration camp: women on the left, men on the right.
When prisoners arrived at Auschwitz, if they weren’t selected to die immediately, they were registered. After being shaved and stripped from their clothes, three pictures were taken from different angles, a number was assigned to them, and the “type” of prisoner identified in their…