“Arbeit macht frei”. When I see this sentence engraved on heavy iron main gate, it´s impossible to be indifferent. Sadism, definitely.
After 40 minutes since Hauptbanhof, taking tube and bus, I have goosebump when I heard the voice speaking: “Next stop: KZ dachau — concentration camp.” Deep breath. Time to go. Walking trough the gravel path, hearing the stone noise you can see all the places where thousands and thousands of people lost their lives.
Air is heavy, as well as all background. Dachau´s walls don´t talk, they scream. Everything is preserved and/or rebuilt as the WWII times, which makes the place even more scary.
When you walk through all the space, you can see the mankind on its plenitude: the atrocity that belongs to a concentration camp in contrast with all stories of human beings who had been trying to fight for their lives, day by day.
There are hundreds of people — maybe thousand of — visiting Dachau at the same time. No one talks. Everybody keeps the silence as grief and a tribute to reflection and sadness.
Dachau teaches us to never forget: never forget how cruel and brutal the humanity can be; never forget that we mustn´t give up to fight. To know closer that part of history makes you redefine your time and space concept. And your existential issues.