Welcome Home

Day 5: This was the day that I was most looking forward to, and it turned out to be the most important, both spiritually and emotionally. This was my first full day in Jerusalem, the city that I’d been yearning to see. We began in the morning by touring the old city, the city of David, passing King Herod’s gate and the Mount of Olive. Everything in the city is covered with giant, light-colored limestones, which despite its beauty, made walking slippery and difficult. It was so humbling, yet at the same time empowering to walk through, sit in, and touch the dust and ruins of the ancient temple of the Jewish people.

A man named Josh from Sachlav joined us and told us stories of people’s journeys to the Kotel, or the Western Wall, throughout the centuries. He handed out pieces of paper and pens, and we were given time to write notes of our own to put into the cracks of the old stones, our own messages to God. For me, writing a note was difficult. I wouldn’t call myself religious, and I only ask for help when I or a loved one needs it. My message was pretty short, nothing complicated. I was just so thankful for having the opportunity to come to Israel so easily and freely, when I was only 18. But it is very important to me to come back someday soon with my parents, who are still waithing for an opportunity. I was taking in as much as I could not only for myself, but for my dad. When I called later that night, my mom told me that he was holding back tears just talking about his only daughter being in Jerusalem. 

Before approaching the Kotel, the men put on their kippas and the women made sure they were properly covered. As we got closer, I saw dozens of women - locals, tourists, and women of all denominations and different faiths - all waiting quietly and respectfully for their chance to go up and touch the stones. As I approached, I felt myself starting to bubble up with countless emotions, and I couldn’t help but burst when I touched my hands to the Western Wall. To my right was an elderly Orthodox woman, praying and sobbing. Again, I’m not very religious, but I became overwhelmed with feelings of thankfulness, happiness, realization. I am a free American Jew who got the opportunity to travel to Israel because of the decisions and courage of my dad and his family. I was a little sad that he wasn’t there with me yet, but mostly I was overjoyed. At that moment, I realized how strong my connections to my roots really were. I was for the first time surrounded by people of my culture and faith; and although all of us have different stories, we’re all Jews. I’ve never had that feeling before. Even at home, I am part of a minority. I can count about 4 Jewish families in my home town. But here, I discovered so many people just like me, and now many of them I can call my friends. I felt so at home, so safe surrounded by my people in our homeland, the land of my ancestors. As I backed away from the Kotel, I realized there were absolutely no regrets coming here.

We broke for a bagel and iced coffee and then had a couple of hours to shop. We toured the quiet Sephardic and Armenian quarters, and made our way to the Ben Yehuda open air market to shop for food for Oneg Shabbat that night. Omer taught us how to haggle for fruit, and we perfected the Israeli art of pushing our way through and ignoring lines.

Going back to the hotel to prepare for Shabbat, we saw almost every shop closing up - something most of us had never witnessed before in the US. As we walked to the Kotel for services, we stopped to meet Gadi’s wife and 2 young children and to all light the candles together. In each little street and alley, there were families preparing, men dancing, and people praying. We were late to services but arrived just in time to dance, sing, and celebrate with crowds of people at the Kotel. It was incredible. 

Back at the hotel, we said Kiddush and had our dinner. The soldiers had prepared a small activity for us during the Oneg, a contest to see who had learned the most from them - what each colored beret meant, which badges were for certain positions. It was a lot of fun, and as prizes we received badges and real dog tags engraved with our hebrew names and birthdays. It was the best souvenir I could have asked for.

Haven’t updated this in a while, but I’ve been thinking a lot about my time in Israel and I really want to continue to share. :)

Day 4: After exploring northern Israel, we were finally on our way to Jerusalem. We stopped at a place that overlooks the entire city. I had been waiting to see Jerusalem - it was the part of the trip that I was most looking forward to. Getting my first glimpse of this ancient, holy city was unbelievable, and it was even better when Gadi said to us, “Welcome home,” even though it was the first time any of us had been. As a group, we said the scechyanu blessing, saying thanks for bringing us here. We were then let loose to take dozens of pictures. Everyone wanted a picture of him or herself overlooking the city with the Dome of Rock in the distance. 

After lunch in the city, we made our way to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem. It was an amazing, powerful, but very brutal four-hour tour. There were so many artifacts, old videos and propaganda, artwork, and accounts, that by the end of the tour, we were emotionally drained. We took time afterwards in a park to discuss what we saw and how it all affects current events today. After a long day, we settled in the Kikar Zion hotel.

After dinner, we finally had our first group night out in Jerusalem. Because the drinking age over there is 18, most of us were able to buy our first legal drink to celebrate our first night in the beautiful, powerful city of Jerusalem. We walked through the streets, and every shop, restaurant, and bar were open. It had such a bustling nightlife, and we all had so much fun getting to know each other and the soldiers a little better. It was a short day, but we ended the emotional intensity with our own little celebration. 

Day 3: We started our second full day in Israel with a drive to the tiny holy city of Tzfat. It’s a beautiful northern city, made up of small cobblestone alleyways with buildings lining the streets. All of the girls came prepared with our long skirts and sweaters for when we visited a tiny Ashkenazi synagogue, where there was barely enough room for 44 of us to squeeze in. We had free time to explore the streets and shop for the first time. Each turn revealed a new network of tiny, windy alleyways lined with shops and art galleries. I got a few souvenirs for my family, and couldn’t resist some of the gorgeous, handmade kabbalistic jewelry. 

We went to a gallery owned by an orthodox woman named Sheva Chaya. Her shop was flooded with light and filled with bright paintings and glass pieces. She demonstrated glass blowing for us as she told us her story. She’s an American who didn’t grow up with a strong Jewish identity, but she took a trip to Israel when she was about 17, and then she couldn’t stop asking questions. After a lot of research, she discovered the values and aspects of Judaism that became very important to her, including the meaning of names. Her original name meant “dark,” and she changed her name to something that had to do with light and life. She now has a whole new outlook on life, always looking for the good in situations that seem dark. She explores this in her art, creating beautiful swirls of color and light. As an artist myself who was just beginning to explore her own Jewish identity, Sheva Chaya came to me at just the right moment. She was so inspirational and wonderful to listen to. I’m not terribly religious, but the fact that she was able to take the direction of her life in her own hands and make it work was so special to me.  

We left Tzfat and headed to the city of Haifa full of excitement, because we were about to meet the eight Israeli soldiers who would be joining our group for part of the trip. They were just as excited and nervous as we were. Omer, one of the soldiers, and I sat next to each other on the bus. He was so outgoing and inquisitive that we learned a lot about each other during the short ride. He was a commander in the IDF who was well into his third year of service and volunteering for extra time. In Israel, every man and woman is required to serve in the IDF when they turn 18: men for three years and women for two. It was so interesting to hear about his outlook. 

We heard from a firefighter in Haifa who fought the devastating fire on Mount Carmel a few months ago. We walked along the mountain, which is still green and lush on one side, but burnt and gray on the other, and through a kibbutz that got burned by the rapid fire. It was beautiful in a way but filled with sadness. 

After Haifa, we drove south for two hours to the home of Divon, an important member of our birthright organization. I sat with Dan, another commander in the IDF. We found that we had a lot in common as we went through our iPods and shared our favorite music and talked about movies and other similarities between Israel and the US. I already felt so close to Omer and Dan, and it had only been a few short hours. It was Divon’s 50th birthday, so we stopped to buy wine (the drinking age is 18) and candles. We walked in singing “Yom Huledet Sameach,” or “Happy Birthday.” He was so sweet and generous to have us all in his home, and we had a great time. It was a wonderful way to celebrate for the first time with our complete group of 52 people. 

At the beginning of July I went to Israel on a Taglit Birthright trip for 10 days. The opportunity to see the entire country and explore the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen for free was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Each day was an adventure of its own, and I have the best memories to carry with me. 

On our first full day there, we hiked a trail in the Golan Heights in the north right by the Sea of Galilee. I am not a fan of hiking by any means, but I actually had a lot of fun. The trail wasn’t for beginners; all morning and afternoon we made our way through grassy valleys, across slippery streams shaded by thin trees, and along the edge of rocky cliffs. The sun was strong, but I was handling myself better than I expected with my liter and a half water bottle. The destination of our hike was the beautiful Jilabun Waterfall, which we watched from a cliff across the valley. I’ve never been one to be in complete awe of nature, but at that moment I was. This was the most beautiful sight I’d seen in a long time. The hike was filled with bright green grass, a variety of colorful wildflowers, massive rocks, cacti, streams, plants, trees. The variety was enough to make me stop and take in my surroundings several times during the day. It was a great way to start off the journey, and so much more was ahead of me. 

After the hike, we went to Idanim, a small farm operated by a tiny older woman named Sophie. She spoke to us with her thick Russian accent, so happy to share her hard work with us and thankful for our help that day. Israel is really big on environmental preservation, and Sophie was the perfect example and a huge inspiration. She has a few students who work on her farm and help her compost. She taught us all about composting and how it works, and then we had the chance to get our hands dirty and help her out. She let us all go with a little bag filled with her lavender attached to a thank you note written on a piece of eucalyptus bark. 

Our final activity for the day was rafting on the Jordan River. I was in a boat with five other girls, and we were all so close by the time we reached the end. None of us were looking forward to it, but we had so much fun as we slowly made our way down the river. Every boat was struggling, and every time we had a moment of perfect organization, another boat would come along and splash us or turn us around. It was survival of the fittest, and even boats filled with little orthodox boys joined the race. We emerged from the river laughing, soaked to the bone.

The first day was so busy, I couldn’t wait to go to bed, but I couldn’t wait for the next day.