Birthright-Mayanot, Bus 93

As our trip concluded, we had activities that sought to allow us to develop an understanding of Israel on a deeper level. Wednesday consisted of leaving Tel Aviv and traveling south, where we experienced the desert on various levels. At the end of the day, we stayed in Bedouin tents after having learned about the lifestyles and culture behind the Bedouin. The next morning, we woke up at 5am in order to ride camels at sunrise! Everyone had a blast! From there, we continued to hike up Masada, which was fascinating seeing as though it's an existing structure from a very historic moment in time. After Masada, we traveled to Ein Gedi where we hiked through the desert to go swimming in an oasis--it was absolutely beautiful. The water was so refreshing after a long day in the hot sun. Following that, we went to the Dead Sea where we rubbed mud on ourselves and proceeded to float in the water. The feeling of bobbing in the water without any effort was strange and very incredible. All of us had expectations for what the Dead Sea would be like because of our friends' and family's stories, but I definitely think the experience exceeded those expectations.

This past Friday and Saturday, I kept Shabbat for the first time in my life! Because of this, I have a long update for all of you:

On Friday, we started off our day with a fantastic hike in the North. The pictures of the view do not do it justice whatsoever. After our hike,we traveled to Jerusalem, which we were all extremely excited for! The soldiers, meshed really well with our group and they told us stories about their experienced in the army as well as the best places to shop in Jerusalem. After the two-hour drive from the North, the trip staff had us put our Mayanot bandanas on as blindfolds before we entered Jerusalem. They and the soldiers led us to an area that overlooked the Old City--being blindfolded heightened out anticipation and expectations, which were far exceeded once we removed our blindfolds! After that, we went to the market in Jerusalem, also known as a shukh, where we ate lunch and shopped. Prior to arriving at the Shukh, we agreed to participating in the Jewish version of Secret Santa--Secret Moses. This entailed drawing a name from a hat and buying a small gift for the person, which we would exchange the next day. The chaos and authenticity of the market was really refreshing after being in the North, which didn't have the same liveliness as Jerusalem. As sunset approached, we prepared ourselves for a visit to the Western Wall, or Kotel, for Shabbat. The moment we saw the Wall, I and many others got the chills. There were thousands of people there for Shabbat from all backgrounds: secular to hasidim. I personally felt such overwhelming emotion, as did many other people, that I cried during services. After our visit to the Wall, we walked back to our hotel, which took approximately an hour and a half--needless to say, we worked up an appetite! Finally, we had Shabbat dinner at the hotel and afterward, some of us went to Rabbi Levi's program about love and intimacy in Judaism; this was the perfect way to wind down from the chaos of the week.

On Saturday, a day for relaxation thanks to Shabbos, we exchanged gifts for the Secret Moses program, which was super fun! Then, we all spent hours outside relaxing by our hotel's outdoor pool. A handful of us kept Shabbos for the first time ever, so lounging in the sun was a beautiful way to experience it! After eating dinner in the hotel, we all participated in the Havdallah ceremony led by Rabbi Levi; we all sang and had a beautiful time together before experiencing Jerusalem's nightlife, which I might add, was fantastic! We had a couple hours to shop and go to clubs in Jerusalem--personally, this was the most fun out we've had yet.

Sunday morning started at 6:45 am with a wake up call and breakfast before our trip back to the Kotel. This time, we went up the wall--we put notes and prayers in it, some of us kissed it, some cried, others rejoiced. After a time to ourselves for thought at the wall, I had my Bat Mitzvah ceremony, which was beautiful and I'm truly thankful for having had friends--now family--there to celebrate with me. After my Bat Mitzvah, we continued on to do a little shopping in the city. We then walked to the City of David where we journeyed through the tunnels that are 3,000 years old! As a group, we traveled through the underground tunnels--they were pitch black, narrow at times, and had about 3 feet of water in them--and eventually broke out in song! As you can imagine, we've all grown extremely close over this last week.

Today we had an emotionally exhausting day: we visited Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum, and Mount Hertzel, the military cemetery where we heard personal stories from students on the trip, our staff, and the soldiers. These personal accounts are what affected me the most because the stories came to life. After these visits, we had to say goodbye to the soldiers, which was emotionally draining because we all had just started getting closer to them--we all became mispacha. During these goodbyes, we all made affirmations to each other to see each other soon, which I know I will uphold!

Overall, these last four days have been fun-filled, emotional, happy, and sad, but I can easily say that I'm having the time of my life!

Being accepted to attend birthright a few months ago, I was concerned that my experience would not be as fulfilling as the other students in my group. You see, this is my third time visiting Eretz Israel. The two previous trips had been with my family to tour and to celebrate my younger brother becoming a Bar Mitzvah. I had seen the sights, recited the prayers and gone through the motions that most Jews experience when they visit the holy land. But I never could have predicted the emotional attachment I now feel to both my culture and my people. 

The past seven days have changed my life in countless ways. I admitted to my mother as she dropped me at the airport that I felt I had lost touch with my Judaism. I have always considered myself Jewish, but never really knew exactly what that meant. Now I see that being Jewish is more than just celebrating Shabbat and wearing a yarmulke. It's about connecting with yourself. It's about sparking that light that lies within all of us. Each of us are unique and our religion is special in that it allows us to interpret the Torah in the way that works best for us; the way that makes us the most happy.

It's hard to single out one experience of the past week that has been most special to me. I can say though, that meeting the eight Israeli soldiers was certainly one of the most eye-opening opportunities I have ever had. Growing up in the U.S., I had always heard about Israel and the controversy surrounding it. So naturally, I expected that living there was difficult and wildly different than my sheltered suburban life. I couldn't have been more wrong. These young men and women are exactly like us in every sense. They tell jokes like us, they drink like us and they grow up in Jewish homes that are very similar to ours. The only difference is that when we are applying to college, they are making the incredible sacrifice to serve their country in the Israeli Defense Force.

I am 22 years old now. I have graduated college and am now venturing on to the next chapter of my life. All 8 of these soldiers, with the exception of one, are younger than me, and are doing something I could never imagine doing. I look up to them and am infinitely proud to call them my friends. Leaving here I have finally taken to heart one particular passage of the Talmud that reads: 

"If I am not for myself, then who will be for me?
But if I am only for myself, then who am I?
And if not now, then when?"

As a Jewish American I am leaving Israel with an incredible sense of identity. I know that the State of Israel is now and will always be my home. As I look ahead to the future, I hope that one day I will gather the courage that those soldiers showed me and make Aliyah. 

Toda birthright, you have changed my life for the better. Until next time Israel, l'hitraot! 

Today I went to the Holocaust museum for what I thought was the first time in my life and as much as I would like to say it was nothing like I expected, it was, effectively making it the most emotional experience I have has since coming here. As I just mentioned, 

I thought this was my first time in a Holocaust museum, only to talk to my mother and find out that I went as a little girl to the one in Washington DC. She went on to explain to me a story that I vaguely recall. We took a train down to DC from my home in Long Island and I was busy the entire time singing all the holiday songs from the tapes that my brother brought me backfrom Israel. As much as I’m sure my fellow passengers enjoyed my version of manishtana and the driedal song, I felt no shame and no need to stop.

This is the opportunity that I have been given as a free Jew living in a largely Jewish part of America. The idea that singing my “night night tapes” could cost me my life would never have occurred to me. When I got to the museum, my parents didn’t feel the need to inform me of all the horrors of this time period in my history, the most they explained was when I pointed at Hitler and asked who he was and they told me “a bad man,” Hearing my mother say this phrase now, “a bad man” really strips down the human being to the core and provides, what I believe is the most accurate three world description of Hitler that I could ever think to provide. 

There is a tendency in America to overanalyze everything. I call this “English class syndrome.” When everything needs to symbolize something else meaning is lost and confusion occurs. Sometimes the sky is blue just because it is blue. It doesn’t need to represent anything but what it is. Hitler was a bad man. There is evidence to him being a genius and charismatic and deceptive, but I feel that the explanation I was given as a child holds the most truth and the most meaning to me today. When I entered Yad Vashem I knew I would cry, I knew I would feel emotionally drained by the end, and I knew I would see things that I won’t soon forget. All of this was true and if I close my eyes for a moment I can see the replication of the gas chambers and the face of a smiling child who didn’t survive and my heart hurts. In fact, that’s how I responded when people asked me how I was doing during the tour. My heart hurts for these people that could have been me or my family if we hadn’t already immigrated to the US. I also don’t mean that my heart hurts in just a figurative sense, the left side of my chest felt tight and overwhelmed by the images I saw and the stories I heard. It leapt when I heard a story of survival and sunk at those of hardship, loss and death. The only other thing my mother remembered of my original trip was that I was fascinated by all the shoes I saw and I wanted to know whose they were. Seeing them today I felt the same experience. I want to know who wore those shoes, which encased the feet of survivors and which belonged to those not as lucky. I imagined myself and my family in those shoes and that was perhaps the most emotional realization of the day. I thought my mother who has a degenerative disease could not comply with the necessary labor of a work camp and I thought of my father who recently injured his back and has to take it easy now to remain free of pain. I thought of my almost two-year-old nephew who has finally mastered the worlds “truck” and “plane” and I looked at the faces of the people and I listened to the ages of the children called and I see just how much circumstance can absolutely change everything. I love that we have discussed the concept of “everything happens for a reason” because God makes is so and I don’t know what my reason is. Why I am here born in this time and in this country will always remain a mystery much like the horrors these people were subjected to in the Holocaust. Just because I don’t know these reasons doesn’t mean that I won’t accept them and learn them while continuing to sing my songs and search for answers.