I'd been thinking a lot about the topic of Death over the past few days. Yes, that's particularly strange, as I'm usually in a state of hyperactive bubbliness. But the attacks in London did trigger some new thought processes. I suppose that my visit to Oswiecim (the Polish city of Auschwitz) also drove the message home.

After the conference, I rode the long, silent train from Krakow to Oswiecim. When I arrived in Oswiecim train station, it started pouring rain. How fitting. I then rambled the 3 long kilometres to the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum.

I spent the entire day there. The Auschwitz and Birkenau camps are really large places. Dozens of the original building are now used as museum exhibitions, describing the tragedy of the genocide of the Jews.

As you pass the barbed-wire fences, you reach an elaborate gate with the mocking inscription, "Arbeit Macht Frei" ("Work Brings Freedom"). Other displays are more subtle. As you enter the gas chamber and crematorium, you couldn't help but visualize all the Death that occurred where you stood.

On the other side of town is the Birkenau concentration camp. It was actually at Birkenau (not Auschwitz) where most of the genocide took place. Birkenau had four gas chambers holding more than 2000 people, and they used service elevators to raise the bodies to the crematorium. The place is massive, and I spent hours wandering around, examining the ruins, and contemplating about life. In the far corner of the camp is a pond where the victims' ashes were dumped. Looking at that green-gray pond was a disturbing experience.

Overall, I can't really explain why I visited Auschwitz. I felt that I just had to. It certainly put a damper on my visit to Poland. Furthermore, that visit, in addition to the London bombs, really had me thinking about the subjects of terror, death, and chaos.

As for the London bombs, the terror attacks are certainly disturbing. But we can't let it change our lives. Perhaps we should be more vigilant and aware when we ride public transportation, but we really should be resilient to any possible fear. It's true, there's always a nagging feeling that "it could've been me". I can't count the number of times that I've rode the Picadilly Line between King's Cross and Russell Square, yet it suffered the worst from the blasts.

But out of resilience (and possibly out of necessity!), I will ride the Tube again. I don't doubt that. And if the unthinkable happens, and my tube carriage gets hit, then, well, we'll just simply have to react. Most of us are a level-headed bunch with good street-sense.

"But aren't you afraid to die?" Well, um,... sigh. Let's put it this way -- I certainly don't want to die 20 m underground in a damp, smoky carriage. I don't want to die at all. There's so many people who I've yet to know, so many goals that I've yet to achieve, so many places that I've yet to see, so many emotions that I've yet to feel. I'd be sad and depressed if I were to die today.

But we can't control all unpredictable variables. If we worry about every little thing, we reach a point of stagnation, and we make life meaningless. I'd like to think that I've lived a good life so far, and I hope that I can continue to make a good contribution in the future. If Death arrives, well, then, it arrives.

There's nothing wrong with being afraid -- such a stirring event produces a wide roller-coaster of emotions. Death does that to you. But it's important to rise above our fears and sadness. We are all sad, we are all distressed. But we are all strong.

(Part 1 of 2. Part 2 describes a follow-up visit to London.)