Too comfortable

I didn't know what visiting the actual museum part of Yad Vashem would be like after my trip. I knew that specific places and pictures would be much more real to me, and I knew that going into the museum, I would feel more confident about the general history and also about how my grandparents' histories fit into the larger picture of the war. But what I came away realizing was instead something so simple, so disheartening, but something I've probably been ignoring for the past 6 weeks: not everyone cares as much as I do.

Yad Vashem's main museum is set up along a long, wide glass and cement hallway, but to get to the end of the hallway, you must follow the exhibits as they wind left and right and cross through the central hallway where you can look both back and forward in "time." At one point while walking through the exhibit, I looked ahead to see a big group of people (who looked about my age) standing around talking, laughing--one guy was even dancing. To say the least, I was disgusted, but I said to myself that I would try to avoid that group.

Then, in another section of the museum, I encountered two members of that group sitting on chairs (meant for those who want to listen to recorded testimony) with their feet up, talking like they were in any coffee-shop down the street. They didn't bother to whisper, instead, were loud and disrespectful. I decided to say something to them because I was becoming extremely distracted, so I told them that if they wanted to talk, that there's a place for that--outside the museum. The two apologized and got up, but that wasn't the end of it.

In the next room, the room that began to describe the transports from the ghettos and the first death camps, I encountered two guys sitting right at the entrance, sharing headphones and bobbing their heads along to music on an iPod. Then, after turning the corner, I saw two circles of people from the same group, talking and laughing and using their cell phones--right in the middle of the exhibit! I looked for a security guard before talking to them myself, since I felt that it wasn't my responsibility to keep chasing after this group--that's not why I went to visit the museum. After seeing that the three security guards of the museum were at the other end of the building also standing in a circle and talking, I decided to say something. I stood behind one of the circles, and the people didn't even notice I was there until I spoke. They were totally in their own world. I told them that if they weren't interested, that they could leave the museum. There was no point in being disrespectful and disturbing other people who came to the museum to learn. One guy asked if I worked there, and I said no, that I came because my grandparents were all survivors and it's something that I care about. They called me disrespectful for interrupting their conversation. Only after most of them walked away did one girl come up to me and apologize, saying that the group was tired and "needed a break." Later, one of the guys also apologized, saying that he understood where I was coming from, but "the girls talk too much."

I honestly don't know if they understood what I was trying to tell them, and that's a little scary. If I was in their position, I would never make up bad excuses, and no matter how embarrassing, I think the least I would do was admit I was wrong. It's frustrating that I had to tell people my age how to act in a Holocaust museum--like it's not totally obvious. I just find it so hard to believe that not one member of their group had the sense to tell the rest what I was trying to tell them. I don't know if this group was an exception, but I know it's not the first time I've had to deal with disrespectful visitors to a Holocaust museum--I just hope it's the last.