Although I really enjoyed our time in Bayeux, it was time to go. Ready to leave the laid-back style of Normandy, I was very excited for the hustle and bustle of a large city. I managed to maintain this excitement even through the multitude of discouraging reviews of Paris claiming that it was a disgustingly dirty city, with a virtually unnavigable metro, and is filled with rude Parisians and pick pockets who would take my shorts if I didn’t hold on tight enough. Despite these accounts, I found Paris to be very enjoyable. The rich history of the city was palpable in its beautiful buildings and the food was phenomenal. The metro was difficult to navigate at first, but this was to be expected since this was our first encounter with a language barrier in a large city. However this was something that we were able to get used to fairly quickly and by the end of our stay we were able to get around with relative ease. However, to be perfectly honest, we did run into our fair share of snide locals and a few duplicitous individuals who looked all too eager to follow our group that was obviously unfamiliar with the city.
Although it is certainly part, touring the cities and experiencing their culture is not the main objective of our trip, but rather to experience how each group of peoples remembers the role that it played in World War II. This is the reason that I was most excited to visit Paris. In Normandy, most of the museums seemed to accentuate the role of the French Resistance while skimming over French compliancy with both the Nazi and Vichy regimes. I was eager to see if this trend of de-emphasizing the role played in the Holocaust would continue in Paris; for the most part, it did. The distancing from the Holocaust was evident nearly everywhere we went, and was initially observed in the first museum that we visited; the Musée de l’Armée.
The museum was quite extensive (especially when it came to uniforms, hats, and guns) and had a good bit on both World Wars. Although I was constantly searching, I could not find much on this event that, although its horror is beyond words, is forever a part of this country’s (and other’s) past. Nearly ready to give up, I stumbled upon a small exhibit (what seemed a mere 15 by 30 feet) in a side room at the very end of the museum, not 50 feet from the exit. Inside this dimly lit, walled off section was a cold recounting of events and statistics of the Holocaust. Here I did not see any mention of the French or their compliance with the Nazi or Vichy regimes and, to make matters worse, there was a video playing on a small screen that displayed some of the most gruesome images of the Holocaust that I have ever see. It seemed to me that the people in these images deserve more than this bare bones display.
The next place regarding the Holocaust we visited was the Memorial to the Martyrs of the Deportation. Even though I had walked by it on multiple occasions I was unaware of its existence. Despite its location directly behind Notre Dame, the site is well hidden underground and facing the river. It too is severely lacking.
The third site I hoped to learn about France coming to terms with its culpability with the Holocaust was the Shoah memorial. This memorial was outstanding in detail and content. The exhibit, beginning by tracing anti-semitism to its ancient roots, gave a much need objective view of the holocaust and the role that France played. It did so by not only providing details but by placing both the Jews and French collaborators in a particular place in time, rather than simply spitting out facts. However, this memorial was constructed by a Jewish organization, while the first two were made by the French government. After seeing how the French government remembers the culpability of its citizens I’ve very interested in what we will find when we travel to Berlin.
