Four years ago, as a high school senior, I spent one week in Poland learning about the Holocaust firsthand. That week, I saw a plethora of old synagogues, cemeteries, former ghettos, five death camps, and large groups of other teens spending their week just like mine. That week, I felt numb. That week, though the weather was beautiful, Poland seemed gray.

This year, when I enrolled in a Jewish studies program in Prague as a college senior, I knew that I would be returning to Poland, but I let it sink to the back of my mind. I didn't want to reenter the emotional roller coaster Poland put me through in high school. I was simply just going back.

As time led up to my recent visit in Poland, I began to encounter memories from my first trip. Certain places in the Czech Republic, visits to memorials in Berlin, class readings, and a song on my iPod triggered old emotions. I was getting nervous even though I knew that this trip would show me Poland in a different way.

Our week began in Cracow, where we saw the Wawel Castle, enjoyed Polish pierogi, and toured Kazimierz, Cracow's Jewish quarter. We saw the former Jewish ghetto, Schindler's factory, the Remu Synagogue and cemetery, and other synagogues as well. It's depressing to sit in a shul that was once so vibrant and to know that today there are fewer than 200 Jews registered where there used to be thousands.

After Shabbat services at the Remu Synagogue, we joined Cracow's Jewish youth group and other members of the community for Shabbat dinner. Dinner was joyful and festive; Shabbat songs were sung before, during, and after the meal; and the rabbi delivered an interactive d'var Torah. While it was small, there was a strong sense of community that felt warm and family-like.

Our journey continued from Cracow to the town of Oswiecim, where Auschwitz-Birkenau lies. Returning to Auschwitz and Birkenau with images already embedded in my mind, I was not sure how I would react emotionally. While I didn't cry, my mood was somber. It's hard not to grow upset walking through a place where so many people suffered. No one can ever know how those imprisoned in Auschwitz or other camps, ghettos, or anywhere else felt. Walking through Auschwitz with my large puffy coat, scarf, gloves, and warm layers and still feeling an impact from the wind can only make you imagine a fraction of how awful life must have been.

During our second day in Oswiecim, our group met with a Roma (Gypsy) survivor. As I listened to his story, I felt my blood boil. Every survivor has a story, and every story I hear makes me feel for the person it came from. It's disgusting how much hate exists in the world. How could a human being inflict so much pain on another? How do we channel everything we learn on a trip like this to educate others? How can the world sit and do nothing about problems in Sudan? How can someone deny the Holocaust when there is so much evidence and copious stories from survivors? I feel privileged to hear personal testimonies firsthand from survivors, but as the survivor generation begins to pass and future generations are born, I wonder how their stories will be remembered and taught.

When I think of Warsaw, I find irreconcilable contrasts. Here is a city that once had vibrant Jewish life before it was turned into a site for Nazi mass killings. Today, Warsaw is all new and feels a lot like any major westernized city. We visited Warsaw's Old Town, former ghetto, memorials to both Warsaw uprisings, the Genscher Cemetery, and other places. We also met with a man who is designing a new interactive Jewish historical museum in Warsaw that will display thousands of years of Polish Jewish history and not just the Holocaust.

At the very end of our trip my group visited the Lauder school, a Jewish school in Warsaw for preschool through eighth grade. We spent time with a first-grade art class and, together, we colored pictures for Shabbat. It surprised me to see how many students attend a Jewish school in Warsaw. It's encouraging to know that there are people instilling Judaism in these children's lives, which will only foster future interest in Jewish life and learning.

Among the people I met, one of the biggest messages they tried to convey was that there is Jewish life in Poland today and there are many people, both Jewish and non-Jewish, who are trying to preserve it the best they can.

This past week, I saw Poland in a new light. While the weather was as gray as my first experience in Poland, some color crept in and left me more knowledgeable, looking at this country and its history in a new perspective.