The bus drive from Krakow to Auschwitz-Birkenau is silent, punctuated only by the faint sounds of Polish radio coming from the front of the bus.
I try to listen to some music – Radiohead – but can only bring myself to play Israeli music. After an hour of driving, even that somehow seems out of place. They didn’t have iPods on the cattle cars.
It occurs to me that there are very few things in life that can silence a group of 40 teenagers. Driving to Auschwitz is one of them.