What did it take to survive? What did it take to cling on to a life in hell?
Would I have had it in me? Not strong enough for hard labor; not streetwise enough for life on the run; not in possession of particular inner strength, determination or will to live. An easy kill. Not survivor material.
Bish reminds me that no one survives. The most you get is an extension.
I am learning to drive. My driving teacher has a beige Subaru. I am seventeen. We are at the traffic lights by the central bus station in Haifa, waiting to turn left to Bat-Galim. 'Maybe I should have my nose fixed so I don't look so Jewish', I think just as the light changes. A foolish thought. Why has it stick in my mind for twenty years?
Every day is Yom HaShoah. How can we tell when we are being paranoid and when they really are out to get us?
And each year - there are the films on television and the articles in the newspapers, with new stories that have not been told before. There are so many stories. Most will never be told.
Europeans who say we are doing exactly the same thing to the Palestinians have no shame. They have no shame.
Adolf Eichmann stands up in his glass cage. He says that there is no reason for him to be tried. (He did such a good job, he thinks, a brilliant job. He should be given a medal of honor; he should be recognized the world over for the genius he is. The judges seem such intelligent, educated, civilized people. Can they not see how absurd this trial is?)