I am...

Charlie
Events in Paris shocked the country. Our small town continued on normally, even as news reports kept us updated on the latest and kept us in suspense until the resolution of the initial situation. There was a march of unity in our downtown, and while getting our daily bread at the boulangerie, I participated in a emotionally-moving moment of silence. All the bakers dusted off their flour-covered aprons, the machines for slicing bread were turned off, and the vendors stopped putting croissants in paper bags. They all came out into the area where the customers were standing and we, together, stood and became silent.

On a political level, of all the things we value, the US and France probably are most similar in the value we both place upon the right of free speech. More than the UK, more than any other country...We are most like France in this way. And as such, quite a few of us were embarrassed by the lack of a high-ranking US representative in Paris. It was talked about, but most of our French friends just avoided that altogether. I saw one of my volleyball friends give his friend a look when the subject turned to the US and they both became quiet.

We discussed in our class, briefly, that the magazine writes/draws very offensive material, but against "tout le monde" everyone. So although we dislike its message, we would never want our freedoms taken away. And simplistically, the reason our western culture does not get physically defensive over Christian-bashing, is that we value truth above all in our culture. So we may verbally defend the truth of the message, and emphatically. On the contrary, other cultures value honor above all. Arguing does not necessarily resolve the dishonor brought upon them. Honor, in some cases and for some people, must be avenged and payed for.

Lastly, the phrase "Je Suis Cha rlie" has been everywhere. It means, "I am Charl ie." Not "My name is Charlie," but I am that person or thing. If you mess with [insert person or thing], then you are messing with me. Just like Jesus tells us that He became one of us so that He could be sin for us, and then take it away, along with our guilt and shame. So that when the Father looks at us, He sees Jesus. We, undeservedly, have Jesus saying "I am Shannon," and "I have payed for her," and then the Father readily says, "Welcome into My Presence, my perfect child."

Watching the monitor

Our little Sydney became very sick during our Christmas break. We went to the ER on Christmas Eve, hoping to avoid being there on Christmas Day. She had had a fever for 4 days, her breathing had become more rapid, and her activity level was decreasing to conserve energy. Thankfully, we had an oxygen monitor at home which we are bringing to the hospital in Congo, and we used that to see how she was doing. Each day it seemed to get a bit worse.

Christmas Eve

As far as an ER goes, in this small town and on Christmas Eve just before midnight, it was insanely quick. From the time we left our house to the time when we returned, it was just over 45 minutes. The drive was 5 min, they ushered us right to a room while Ryan stayed to fill out some paperwork, the nurse came in to check vitals, and then the doctor was there. After a bit of bloodwork and a thorough nose wash (which the French adore and deem absolutely essential), Sydney had cried quite a bit and her breathing was better. The bloodwork and exam indicated a viral infection. This was not surprising, but we were hoping to get a prescription for an antibiotic in case (and when) the viral infection took her immunity down enough to get a bacterial pneumonia. We did not want to return. But, they preferred that we come back if she worsened, and in the art of medicine, giving a prescription as a precaution was not as conservative as they practiced. 

Christmas Day with her first doll

Christmas Day was fun with a toddler. She was usually feeling her best in the morning, and this proved true this Christmas. We read a bit of the Christmas story from her Jesus Storybook Bible and opened a few gifts that had come in the mail from family or Amazon (necessities are much more fun when they are wrapped!). Sydney got her first doll, and we watched with amusement as she looked at it, smiled, hit it in the head, and then put her face up to it, hit it again, then went cheek to cheek. She has been playing with the toys left over from the 4 boys that used to live in our apartment last year, and so a doll was quite different than the noise-makers, cars, rubber frogs and spiders that she was used to.

The day after Christmas we knew that Sydney's sickness was continuing to worsen. She was not playing anymore, her fever continued, her breathing was short and rapid, and now her oxygen concentration was borderline at times. Because she did not know how to spit out the phlegm she was coughing up, she began vomiting the little fluid that she was taking in other than breastmilk. It was time to return for an X-ray and fluids, and potentially an antibiotic. The day after Christmas in the ER was a totally different story, although the wait was not abnormal. We finally got into the ER room, and X-ray showed broncho-pneumonia, her fever was 104, oxygen 87, and we knew it was time for admission. Sadly, she hardly protested at the IV line as she was too sick. The oxygen was not a bother except when she needed to itch her nose. She would rub it out of place, and then cry as we replaced it into the correct position. This became a cycle which repeated itself throughout her hospital stay. She also got an oxygen monitor on her big toe which made it light up like Rudolf's nose. 

ER nap

So tired- still in the ER

We were in the ER from 11am-6pm when we were transferred to a room on the pediatric floor. At first, I was thinking it might be peaceful there and a respite, knowing that Sydney was getting fluids and oxygen and would hopefully sleep peacefully. There was a twin bed and a reclining chair for us, and I had a book and the ipad to work on. It was very naive of me to think this. A hospital bed may have been like a hotel for me after Sydney was born with meals brought and nurses to help, but I was totally healthy and it was me who was the patient. With a child, a helpless and pathetic-looking little girl, it is totally different than a hotel. It is a place of worry and pleading with the Lord, the oxygen monitor, and the nurses.

Her Lion King room

Her glowing toe is from the oxygen monitor

Sydney, defying the instructions to sleep on her back in the most uncomfortable position, or to keep her arms and hands inside the crib at all times ;)

Contrary to my hopes, Sydney did not sleep well. The nurses wanted her to sleep on her back on an incline. She has (almost) never slept on her back. She has always preferred her side and now that she is older, she often curls into a ball on her stomach with her arms and legs tucked under her. And with the sickness, she only wanted that comforting position (which was not ideal for breathing) or to be in our arms. As Ryan or I held her, we would dose off only to be awakened by the alarm on the oxygen monitor, the IV being kinked at her arm, or a nurse wanting to get a temperature. I felt my emotions mirrored the oxygen monitor. When it showed the oxygen saturation getting lower and lower, I felt worried, wondered whether we should turn the oxygen up, and tried to change her position to allow her to cough out what was blocking her breathing. When it was normal 98-100 (which did not happen the first night) I would be encouraged and think of all the people who were praying for her health. Then when it decreased again, I would think, "oh keep praying everyone!!"

Watching the oxygen monitor

So sick of being sick!

And we know a lot of people were praying! We sent out prayer requests as much as we could without access to the internet in our room. It was so encouraging to have our language partners come to visit, our ministry partners (the Rices), their language partners, and our pastor from our church here in Albertville visit twice! They had a special prayer time at our church to pray for her health as well. This was especially encouraging, considering my experience at church just before Sydney became sick (see my post "deserving").

Playing under the crib with her Nounou (nanny) the day of discharge

We praise God that He is our healer, and He saw fit to bring her back to full health. We enjoyed watching our first big snow dump on Albertville from our hospital room. As she was improving, Sydney was curious about the large white stuff falling from the sky and wanted to go to the window to see. Our experience in the hospital in a foreign country was overall very good. We were fully immersed in French for 3 days, including a bonus that a lot of the speaking was medical. We learned that the nose rinse can cure all (ok, a little sarcasm is helpful to ward off frustration), that the French nurses use a headlight to come in our room at night so they don't have to turn on the light, and that the French like their meals to be served properly. As a parent, I was ushered to a separate room with other parents when it was time for lunch so that we could sit at a table to have a proper meal and a proper conversation.

Albertville Hospital

View from our window- SNOW!!

The snow dump, viewed from the hospital, with the Olympic figure skating rink in the background (blue structure)

But, having said that, I was never more happy to come back home where there were no monitors or temperature-taking at 3am. Just a crib, black-out windows, and lots and lots of sleep for Sydney. We cancelled our trip to Paris, and instead enjoyed a week of relaxation, game-playing, and helping families move into their apartments before the start of school this semester. We are so thankful to be home and healthy!

Deserving

Ever had a bad day in church with your kid/children? And then thought about just skipping church because it was such a hassle? This particular Sunday's trials taught me a lesson.

 We love our church, but it is crowded and there is no space for a nursery until they move into a new space in the spring. Thus, most of the children go to local houses for teaching applicable to their ages and those of us with babies try to entertain them on our laps. Or maybe one of the parents stays home with them? I'm really not sure, and it could have to do with the language barrier. Anyway, Sydney is now 14.5 months, very busy, mobile, curious, and sometimes loud. We have been trying to have her sleep during the sermon, so during the prayer and singing times, she is awake. Now when I said crowded, let me explain. Our knees sometimes are touching the seats in front of us, and our chairs are hooked together to our neighbors'. There is almost no floor space for a one year old to walk between us or play. We have kept a box that she can sit in, but she has not been interested in staying in the box. It seems that we are the only ones with a baby, and it can be very frustrating.

The Sunday I'm referring to was particularly discouraging as a mom. Sydney was being herself, but not particularly louder or more curious than normal. She touched the people in front of her as she moved past, but that is understandable given that our knees nearly touch the seats in front of us. Just after one of the worship songs, someone in front of me turned around and indicated that I should take Sydney to the back. I was shocked. There is no back, really. There is a door to the outside where it is now cold, a half glass wall making an entryway the size of a loveseat, and a coffee table and chair (already occupied) in the back row. But I felt compelled to take her out of our row. I just grabbed her and stepped over the knees of Ryan and another person and finally down the aisle to the back. Now what!? The man sitting in the back row got out of his chair and sat on the coffee table so that I could have a chair. Sydney walked over to the small entryway and started taking umbrellas out of the holder. She brought each one to me, then clunked them back in the holder. I tried to keep her from being loud, but I had few options with none of her toys nor her water bottle in the back with me. Ryan turned around to see how we were doing, and he then brought her pacifier, water, and the baby carrier to us. As there were no seats, he went back and sat down. After a short time, I strapped Sydney in the baby carrier and went out into the cold, feeling very much like I didn't belong. As I paced the alley and street, and as Sydney fell asleep as is her custom, my mind went back to the worship service. I felt discouraged about the lack of childcare, about my struggle to catch the meaning of songs and prayer and the sermon in French even without the distraction of a child. I started doubting my ability as a mom to train my daughter to be calm and quiet in church. Then I thought that perhaps back in the service they were taking communion. Oh good. I'll miss that. I certainly don't deserve to take communion with my bad attitude today.

REWIND. I certainly don't deserve to take communion.  That stopped me abruptly, literally, as I was walking in the street. Thankfully Sydney did not awaken. But I was wide awake. Deep down, I must have been thinking that I somehow deserve forgiveness, deserve the sacrifice of the Lamb, deserve to freely take part of His body and blood. No no no. There is no one righteous, not even one. But He gave Jesus who DID nothing wrong to die for me so that when God looks at me, He does not see me in my broken condition, but He sees Jesus's body and blood, and welcomes me with open arms into His presence. Not because I deserve it, but because I'm paid for with precious stuff.

I went back into the service, Sydney sound asleep, with a renewed attitude. I took part in communion and listened to the message. The act of attending church never saves anyone, but this Sunday, the Holy Spirit used it to save me from myself, and renewed my gratitude for the One who is DESERVING.

Power, love, and a sound mind

Have you ever experienced this? Even as I was trying to put together my thoughts on the topic, I felt like it was happening. Spiritual warfare is not something many people talk about, and I'm not trying to sound super spiritual, but there is a reality that we cannot see. It is powerful. It is discouraging. BUT, we do not have to be captive by it because God has promised to be with us through it all.

I wrote several of the items which have been on my mind recently which have been sources of discouragement, with full intentions of writing the encouraging items next. As I was writing, however, my heart started to grow weary, I wondered whether this would speak to anyone or if they would think I was crazy. So I switched tasks and started to study my French. And then get on Facebook and check my email. I just wanted to get away.. from my discouragement, from the spirit of fear which pervaded. But as I checked my email, I realized that a song by Shane and Shane was playing in the background of my mind: "Be near, oh God, be near, oh God of us. Your nearness is to us our good." Gently, my God was encouraging me to continue, I believe. And even as I was telling Ryan that I couldn't blog about spiritual warfare because I felt attacked, WHAM, the verse in 2 Timothy 1:7 came to the forefront of my thoughts.

For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love and of a sound mind.

And I knew I could go on. I should. And I would finish my blog. So here goes.

Some items of discouragement:
There has been another death in the family. Dr. Martin Salia, a wonderful surgeon, served his people in Sierra Leone and lost his fight with Ebola last week. Why would the Lord take him home when there are only 6, now 5 surgeons, helping to treat and serve the entire country?

We heard that one of the only ways to get free education in Congo is by joining a local mosque. Our friends who were in Kinshasa during the time when this system went into effect said that the percentage of people who considered themselves Muslim soared. I support free education, but if one must convert in order to obtain that free education, I find it heartbreaking. Heartbreaking because it puts such a difficult decision on parents, heartbreaking because I wish there were more options, heartbreaking because it feels so forced. How would a mother and father feel if their children could not get educated based on religion and their poverty? New City Fellowship, a multiracial Christian church in St. Louis, supports several schools in Kinshasa that help feed and educate students who come from impoverished families. I wish we could do more.

During a discussion, it came up that ISIS is currently making around $1 million a day in oil sales. And blatantly and boldly killing people. (I have avoided the news surrounding them because it just causes fear and sadness within myself).

A very nice young couple here at our language school, pregnant with their third child (under 3) sit next to me in class. They recently lost their grandfather, who not only was beloved, but also their biggest supporter. That, along with the news that several of their donors stopped giving to them has created a deficit in their monthly support. Now, they have until December 1 (one week) to raise $15,000 in one-time support. Otherwise they will have to quit school, fly back to the US, and then have their baby and try to raise support again to come back.

Ryan had a setback this week in that he felt like he was nearly healed from a muscle injury (hyper-extension) in his leg and on his first day back, felt it pull again. This is particularly hard when sports are such an outlet for him (have been most of his life) during times of hard study. And it is a great time for him to be immersed in French as all of his teammates, the refs, and the opposing teams speak solely in French.

Sometimes it feels like the Enemy is winning. There are times when we feel we are at the frontlines.

Some items of encouragement:
Last week I spent the morning in a personal spiritual retreat, listening to worship music in French by Paul Baloche. We also went to an English! time of singing worship songs to God. This really was uplifting to my spirit.

We attended the baptism of a sweet older French lady in our church here. The place was packed and standing-room-only. What a great celebration of a new life in Christ!

We have had several people write personal emails or Facebook messages over the past couple of weeks which have been very timely. One of our home churches is sending us a Christmas care package :)

It has been such a blessing to be around the other students who have done and are going to do some pretty cool things in the world. One couple has lived in Brasil for 25 years and are learning their 3rd language. They have quite a bit of wisdom to share. One gal lived in Niger for 8 yrs and will now be living in Paris. Some are families with 4 or 5 children and we can watch how they teach their children to live without normal comforts, go to an all-French school. Several children are very talented in musical instruments. Soon, we will be going to Cameroon, North Africa, Togo, Congo, Niger, Chad, and places in France. I guess the main feeling I get when I am around people with such varied dreams and experiences is that I am a part of something bigger than myself. And that gives me great encouragement to feel a part of that. Even as I dig into the nitty-gritty of the French language, that vision of us going out from this school and making a difference in the world in the name of Jesus gives me great hope.

So there, I finished it. My ups and downs are sometimes just a normal part of living, but sometimes the intensity of the discouragement or the promptness or improbable-ness of the feelings (such as feeling hope in the midst of terrible circumstances) helps me to know that this may be spiritual warfare. Let me end with this quote:

"What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?... Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one.... Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble of hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ... No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate use from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Paul in his letter to the Romans

Feeling like Home

As we drove into Albertville, as I was doing my 5th load of vacation laundry, and as I restocked my pantry with essential groceries via bike, I realized that this really feels like home. 

Ever since we turned our lives upside down when we put our house on the market in April, life has felt a bit unsettled and chaotic. Thankfully, miraculously, we only had to show the house once (with a small baby and a dog and being in residency at the time). We had tons of friends around us to help and the blessing of an entire basement to live in with a God-given friend. But it still seemed chaotic. In June, I graduated, took my written board exam. For the next two months, we didn't have a place of our own. We spent a good chunk of the summer traveling and visiting family and friends and the other chunk moving everything from our married life thus far from our sold house and into storage, a shipment container, Goodwill, or suitcases in the basement of our temporary home. Then we moved half-way around the world to a country with a strange language and small bathtubs (Tim likes to say that it is like a second toilet bowl, but I love how little water it takes to fill it up to get a good soak!). We were consumed with learning how to live in the new environment, finding what routine to use, and then we jumped into French acquisition. Each day off, on top of homework, I felt like I either needed figure out how to cook something new or meet new friends or find a new bike route, and it. just. felt. hectic. Soon it was time for a visit from my parents (woo hoo!) and Sydney's birthday and vacation. Vacation? I hadn't even had time to think about it. I'm even tired from writing this too-long, full-of-run-on-sentences paragraph.

We took time to reconnect, process, and enjoy our family on vacation. It was so needed. And now, looking back, I can feel such a difference. We got away, went to yet another country with different money and languages. Doing so, however, made me appreciate that I really am starting to understand French. I'm starting to appreciate a lot of the cultural differences. And it feels like home. At least for the next 7 months. 

Switzerland: Hiking and the Brothers

Our last, but certainly not least favorite, place to visit was Switzerland. We left our wonderful AirBnB hosts in Germany and headed to Switzerland. We took a slightly different route so that we could drive through part of the small country of Liechtenstein. Also on our route, we stopped at Lucerne, Switzerland, where Ryan took us on a short tour of the downtown area with long wooden pedestrian bridges over the river. It was the location he remembered best from his senior trip in high school. Sydney loved watching the swans.

Our last resting spot was not another AirBnB; rather, it was a guesthouse run by the Christusraeger Brotherhood, our ministry partners who also work in Vanga! The purpose of the guesthouse is to provide a place for retreats, family holidays, and also for the many pilgrims who walk through that part of Switzerland. As they say, "The beautiful surroundings encourage the soul to unwind and become open to the message of the Gospel." We certainly found that statement to be true for us! The proceeds of the guesthouse support their work in Afghanistan and also Vanga, Congo. They provide hospice for patients who are dying, a fund for the poor who cannot pay for care, and general upkeep of the hospital. If you want to know more details, their website is in German, but they have an English pdf which I'll link you to here. http://www.christustraeger-bruderschaft.org

When we arrived late Sunday evening, they greeted us warmly and served us a hot dinner! Brother Thomas, who worked in Vanga for 3 years, is in charge of the guesthouse. He ate with us, and then took us to a small cottage where we would sleep for the next 4 nights. He personally made sure that we had enough blankets and brought us an old wooden crib for Sydney. For the entire time we spent at Ralligen, we were completely taken care of. We had 3 hot meals a day except when we were out for the day, and they even provided us with food to make our own sack lunches! It was truly a relaxing experience and highly recommended for anyone traveling to/through Switzerland.

There are many buildings on the property owned by the Brothers, but the largest is Schloss Ralligen which is translated as "castle" but which really just looks like a very very large house. It dates back to the 14th century when it was the Augustinian Monastery of Interlaken. There is a full kitchen and dining room in the first floor, a tea room, meeting rooms, family room, conference room on the second floor, and then taking the large spiral staircase, there are 2 more floors of rooms and a sizable chapel at the point of the roof. Several times a day, the Brothers will say prayers and sing in the chapel and all the guests are invited.

Most of Monday we spent in personal reflection, prayer, solitude, or exploring the property. However, in the afternoon for a couple of hours, Tim, Nancy, and I drove about 10 minutes to a village nearby to see a very high and long pedestrian suspension bridge. In Switzerland, the mountains are incredibly steep, but then have places that are flat partway up and on these tiny spaces, there are villages. It is like the village is on a shelf. The valleys between these villages plunge down and then back up, and in this particular village, the bridge cuts the walking time to the next village (on the "shelf") from ~30 min to 5 min. We admired the bridge, then took the 30 min plunging path through the valley just for fun. I now consider that my favorite 30 minute hike! There was a waterfall at the bottom, and a small bridge. I took a video, being sarcastic that we had traveled far to see this small bridge, when I actually saw how awesome it really was.

In other words, I was really put in my place. We climbed the other side of the valley and then crossed back to the village via the pedestrian bridge. Every movement was felt as the bridge was quite light and suspended by cables. Tim got white knuckled at first, but enjoyed it. It probably didn't help that Nancy and I were lightly bouncing as we walked to see how much the bridge could move. ;)

We spent our next two days hiking the magnificent Alps. The first day, we took a funicular (basically a train that gets pulled by a cable very steeply up a mountain) and then cable cars (like a ski lift) to get to the summit, and then we hiked for about 4 hours on the top of the mountains. 

The funicular, complete with a tunnel and a turn!

Like walking on top of the world!

That evening, Brother Thomas made a special presentation about Vanga to a German church group which was having a retreat that week at Ralligen. Someone graciously translated for the Rices and us so that we could understand. Seeing Vanga through Brother Thomas's eyes and learning lessons through his experiences was a highlight of our time there. "This is not a success story, but a love story," he said towards the end, reflecting on the many times when things didn't go as planned, when people did not appreciate something because of a clash of culture, or when miscommunication happened. But, in all of that, he wanted to share his life with the people of Congo and love them as Jesus did. What wisdom! What honesty! "This is not a success story, but a love story." What an asset to have the opportunity to learn from him! At the end, the Rices and we spoke for about 10 minutes about our journey to medical missions and specifically to Vanga. Brother Thomas closed the meeting by describing a meeting held recently about the future of Vanga and their current needs.

"We need a surgeon." 

"We need more teachers."

"We need people who want to work with the youth."

"We need people who love Jesus and love our people." 

Dramatic pause... and he said to the German audience, "If you have been praying for us and for our work in Vanga,.." Then he paused and looked at each one of us: Tim (teacher of medicine, lover of Jesus), Kathy (teacher of nursing, lover of Jesus), Ryan (teacher of research and engineering, soccer coach for the youth, and lover of Jesus) and me (surgeon, teacher of medicine, lover of Jesus). And he continued, "These two families are an answer to your prayers." Goosebumps. 

Our final day of hiking was our favorite day of the vacation for all of us. We had very sunny skies even though it was cold. Brother Thomas came along with us, sneakily paying for our tickets to ride the aerial tramway. We drove through a valley with the mountains rising as steep cliffs on either side with waterfalls frequently pouring hundreds of feet over the edge of the cliff. One of the cities in the valley only gets 3-4 hrs of direct sun during the summer and 30 min in the winter! We then rode the aerial tram/cable car with about 75 other people and it whisked us up the side of the cliff and plopped us on top where there was a tiny village called Gimmelwald (featured on Rick Steves' Europe). We took the next car up to Murren and then walked on the Kid's Adventure Trail, complete with playgrounds along the way and a small zipline in the trees (which all of us rode, including Sydney with me). We had lunch in a sunny spot on the patio of a closed ski restaurant, talking extensively with Brother Thomas throughout the hiking and especially at lunch. We continued our afternoon on the Northface Trail which, indeed, warranted clothing made by the company of the same name. (Brrr..) We concluded by walking through cow pastures and trees and back down to Gimmelwald. The beautiful scenery combined with beautiful weather, a easy to medium hike, and wonderful conversation with Brother Thomas made it the highlight of our vacation! 

Lunch break with Brother Thomas

Rest/snack break for all

Brother Thomas expounding on his experiences organizing a soccer tournament

Northface Trail

Sydney loves those hiking sticks!

Tim capturing the moment

Dachau Concentration Camp

 "Work will make you free." It is the slogan written in iron at the gate to Dachau, the first concentration camp of the Nazi regime. It was enormous, much larger than I had suspected, with only 1/6 of the camp devoted to prisoners and the rest for SS officers, a plantation, sport field (for SS), and places of work. Dachau was made just 2 months after Hitler took over for political opponents, but then became the model camp for all of the other hundreds and hundreds of camps started throughout Europe. Although I have read my fair share of Holocaust and WW2 books and watched a few movies, I still learned a lot from our tour. Prisoners were shuffled from camp to camp based on whether they could work or not. A lot of the medical experimenting happened in Dachau, and most of it was not even helpful research. We all would agree that medical experimenting on prisoners is evil, but there wasn't even a good goal in mind for most of the subjects. The numbers- they just numb me just as the numbers killed in any war or genocide might. It is the individual stories told that really move us, and that is what many of the books and movies give us- a glimpse into the horror that was. The memorial is iron cast in the shape of people on barbed wire, and the inscription, written in multiple languages says, "never again."

Model of the whole camp. The straight rows of barracks on the right with the rectangle around it was the part where the prisoners were kept.

 One of the barracks in the foreground with rows of foundations for barracks (~60) beyond.

 Inside the barracks.

The museum was in the "maintenance building" so we took the path that the prisoners did as they walked through the gates and were registered, etc. given medical exams, and then sorted and told where they would be. How tragic.

The prison within the prison

Only one person escaped in 12 years. A view of the electric perimeter fence with "no man's zone"

Then a ditch and barbed wire before the electric fence

Crematorium ovens

Gas chamber (rarely used)

This memorial gives me chills. How I hope this statement is true.