The final activity of the trip was the most emotional. There are no photos because photos are not allowed. Unlike the prohibition on photos in the cathedrals of Cusco, Peru and Quito, Ecuador, I fully understood why.
We had tickets to the Anne Frank House/Museum at 7:15 pm Saturday night. I had hoped buying tickets that late would keep the number of people going through the Museum and House down. It didn’t work, but they do a nice job of limiting the number people in at any 15 minute increment.
It’s all very affecting. Having been to Yad Vashem in Israel, that place communicates the scale of evil that Hitler and the Nazis were. This visit personalized it, bringing it down in scope to (mostly) one person.
The others from the Secret Annex who were captured and killed do receive some attention in the audio guide and the displays, but, understandably, the focus is on the girl who wrote the Diary read around the world.
One aspect of note is that the audio guide says nothing when we cross from the museum into the annex where Anne Frank and the others hid for approximately two years before being given away, captured by the Nazis, and killed/died (with the exception of her father, Otto Frank, who survived). And then, when we left the annex to enter back into the museum, the audio guide had more clips.
Otto Frank returned to Amsterdam, and was given Anne’s diary by a family friend who had cleaned out the Annex. He persevered to have the diary published, and Anne Frank has stood as a symbol of innocence versus the worst hatreds of mankind.
The reverence one feels in such a place of innocence that became a place of horror is reminiscent of our visit to Robbins Island, where Nelson Mandela and other Black Freedom leaders were imprisoned by the illegitimate South African government during apartheid.
Carol was as affected as I was.
I really don’t have much else to say, as the whole museum shouts aloud for itself. The only comment I would add is, if you go to Amsterdam, buy your tickets in advance. Please don’t skip going.
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