5 years ago, I was waiting in Salzburg for the midnight train that was going to take me to Zurich, Switzerland. Traveling alone didn't bother me, especially after coming out of India where it's a LOT more intimidating to be a single woman.
So, I sat there in the train station that night, aware of my surroundings, aware I wouldn't be sleeping well on the train due to wariness of thieves, but fairly relaxed overall. Scattered throughout the lobby were closed cafes and backpackers waiting for their significantly-less-pricy overnight trains. At one point, a young man, probably also in his early twenties, came and sat against the wall about 10 feet away. We smiled politely at each other and then went back to reading our books. He was an Orthodox Jew, and I wasn't sure about cultural/gender protocol, so I didn't make conversation (keep in mind I just came from India where women don't talk to any men unless out of previously established friendship or neccessity.)
About 30 minutes, maybe an hour, later another man in his twenties showed up and sat near us. His head and arms were covered in tattoos, he was dressed in all black, and I think I remember a silver chain hanging on his black jeans. Something didn't sit right in me, but after about 2-3 minutes, this guy started talking to the Jewish man. It was casual conversation at first but was more animated on the newcomer's part.
I sat there pretending to read for the next hour or so. There were occasionally lulls in the conversations, but the conversation slowly became more aggressive in one direction. Without knowing German, I had no doubts that the second man was attempting to start something and was doing his best to antagonize the first. I made eye contact with the Jewish man frequently, as if to ask "Are you okay still?" He'd give a slight smile to me, and I continued observing intently the interaction between the two.
The Jewish man responded softly and patiently for the whole hour. He could have gone and sat on the other side of the train station, but he remained where he was, peacefully standing his ground, albeit seated. Over time, the volume of the second man's German escalated, and the only way to describe what he was doing is the word, "taunting." By this point, I had zero doubts this man was a Neo-Nazi, and fury was building in me out of desire to stop the savagery and support/respect the man who was firmly rooted in his principles. I stayed sitting on the floor where I was, but no longer leaning against the wall. I was tense, I was within inches of standing up to interfere in the conversation. The only things that kept me from doing so were 1) Not speaking a lick of German, 2) Knowing I was a single female traveler which doesn't put me in the safest of positions, and 3) The Jewish man remained peaceful and I did not want to take away his dignity or cause worse problems by interfering.
All of a sudden, the taunting became yelling, and the Neo-Nazi stood up and began shouting, taking steps back and then getting closer and closer to the other man. The Jewish man continued to remain seated, but I could see fear in his face, and I stood up, letting the Neo-Nazi know the other man was not alone. He backed off a little for a few seconds, then continued his rage. Thankfully, at this point, another traveler sent her boyfriend to find security, and a third man came to sit between me and the Jew. He gave me a look of assurance and motioned for me to sit down, that he would intervene on the behalf of both of us. He made polite, friendly conversation with the Neo-Nazi and that allowed him to calm down somewhat. Shortly after, security arrived and escorted him out.
I'm aware of my own vulnerability in the situation and know I couldn't have been the "hero of the day" so to speak, but I remember feeling ashamed that I hadn't been able to do more or do it earlier. I also remember feeling thoroughly outraged and disgusted with this man who thought another human being was really that much less than him. I remember being heartbroken from the racism and degree of ethnocentrism that had traveled so easily from one generation to the next. I felt confusion because I'd spent my childhood reading about the Holocaust and thought that that war had ended. I thought humankind had realized not one race was superior to all others and that while there are individuals who may have racist feelings, that they would at least know better than to publicly display them for all to see. I questioned how grown men were unable to understand the lessons I'd learned from simply reading as an 8 year old. I also wondered what was wrong with the other 30-odd travelers sitting throughout the lobby who understood the German language, understood the atrocities being spoken, and still chose not to do anything.
Unless you've been hiding under a rock or live in a part of the world without wi-fi and newspapers, you know that America is in social/political turmoil. When I first got online Sunday morning (when the news hit here in India), my heart felt crushed. So, what steps are to be taken now? I'm not sure exactly, other than speaking up when we see injustice and loving our neighbors--those who have similar skin colors to our own and those who don't.
But I also know that while I believe there is a "right" and a "wrong" side to everything that is happening, and while I firmly believe in consequences of one's actions, I also know that this is a time where we have to actively and intentionally love, pray for, and forgive those who have wronged us and those around us. It doesn't matter if they continue to sin against us, it doesn't matter if they insult us, God's command to love our neighbors extends to all; it doesn't say "except for those who..."
Doing this is difficult, and it probably isn't going to get easier. But I think of Corrie ten Boom, who was a Christian imprisoned in Ravensbruck concentration camp for hiding Jews. After her family members were killed from torture or hunger, after she was tortured via hard labor, after she experienced unfathomable humiliation and pain and hunger at the hands of Nazi soldiers, she was freed and began a rehabilitation home for the same Nazi soldiers and supporters. If she can do that, surely we can pray for those around us.
So, I sat there in the train station that night, aware of my surroundings, aware I wouldn't be sleeping well on the train due to wariness of thieves, but fairly relaxed overall. Scattered throughout the lobby were closed cafes and backpackers waiting for their significantly-less-pricy overnight trains. At one point, a young man, probably also in his early twenties, came and sat against the wall about 10 feet away. We smiled politely at each other and then went back to reading our books. He was an Orthodox Jew, and I wasn't sure about cultural/gender protocol, so I didn't make conversation (keep in mind I just came from India where women don't talk to any men unless out of previously established friendship or neccessity.)
About 30 minutes, maybe an hour, later another man in his twenties showed up and sat near us. His head and arms were covered in tattoos, he was dressed in all black, and I think I remember a silver chain hanging on his black jeans. Something didn't sit right in me, but after about 2-3 minutes, this guy started talking to the Jewish man. It was casual conversation at first but was more animated on the newcomer's part.
I sat there pretending to read for the next hour or so. There were occasionally lulls in the conversations, but the conversation slowly became more aggressive in one direction. Without knowing German, I had no doubts that the second man was attempting to start something and was doing his best to antagonize the first. I made eye contact with the Jewish man frequently, as if to ask "Are you okay still?" He'd give a slight smile to me, and I continued observing intently the interaction between the two.
The Jewish man responded softly and patiently for the whole hour. He could have gone and sat on the other side of the train station, but he remained where he was, peacefully standing his ground, albeit seated. Over time, the volume of the second man's German escalated, and the only way to describe what he was doing is the word, "taunting." By this point, I had zero doubts this man was a Neo-Nazi, and fury was building in me out of desire to stop the savagery and support/respect the man who was firmly rooted in his principles. I stayed sitting on the floor where I was, but no longer leaning against the wall. I was tense, I was within inches of standing up to interfere in the conversation. The only things that kept me from doing so were 1) Not speaking a lick of German, 2) Knowing I was a single female traveler which doesn't put me in the safest of positions, and 3) The Jewish man remained peaceful and I did not want to take away his dignity or cause worse problems by interfering.
All of a sudden, the taunting became yelling, and the Neo-Nazi stood up and began shouting, taking steps back and then getting closer and closer to the other man. The Jewish man continued to remain seated, but I could see fear in his face, and I stood up, letting the Neo-Nazi know the other man was not alone. He backed off a little for a few seconds, then continued his rage. Thankfully, at this point, another traveler sent her boyfriend to find security, and a third man came to sit between me and the Jew. He gave me a look of assurance and motioned for me to sit down, that he would intervene on the behalf of both of us. He made polite, friendly conversation with the Neo-Nazi and that allowed him to calm down somewhat. Shortly after, security arrived and escorted him out.
I'm aware of my own vulnerability in the situation and know I couldn't have been the "hero of the day" so to speak, but I remember feeling ashamed that I hadn't been able to do more or do it earlier. I also remember feeling thoroughly outraged and disgusted with this man who thought another human being was really that much less than him. I remember being heartbroken from the racism and degree of ethnocentrism that had traveled so easily from one generation to the next. I felt confusion because I'd spent my childhood reading about the Holocaust and thought that that war had ended. I thought humankind had realized not one race was superior to all others and that while there are individuals who may have racist feelings, that they would at least know better than to publicly display them for all to see. I questioned how grown men were unable to understand the lessons I'd learned from simply reading as an 8 year old. I also wondered what was wrong with the other 30-odd travelers sitting throughout the lobby who understood the German language, understood the atrocities being spoken, and still chose not to do anything.
Unless you've been hiding under a rock or live in a part of the world without wi-fi and newspapers, you know that America is in social/political turmoil. When I first got online Sunday morning (when the news hit here in India), my heart felt crushed. So, what steps are to be taken now? I'm not sure exactly, other than speaking up when we see injustice and loving our neighbors--those who have similar skin colors to our own and those who don't.
But I also know that while I believe there is a "right" and a "wrong" side to everything that is happening, and while I firmly believe in consequences of one's actions, I also know that this is a time where we have to actively and intentionally love, pray for, and forgive those who have wronged us and those around us. It doesn't matter if they continue to sin against us, it doesn't matter if they insult us, God's command to love our neighbors extends to all; it doesn't say "except for those who..."
Doing this is difficult, and it probably isn't going to get easier. But I think of Corrie ten Boom, who was a Christian imprisoned in Ravensbruck concentration camp for hiding Jews. After her family members were killed from torture or hunger, after she was tortured via hard labor, after she experienced unfathomable humiliation and pain and hunger at the hands of Nazi soldiers, she was freed and began a rehabilitation home for the same Nazi soldiers and supporters. If she can do that, surely we can pray for those around us.
No comments:
Post a Comment