We’ve been having a lot of fun on this trip so far. That’s a huge understatement, but I’m far too burnt out to think of anything cleverer right now. But anyway, we’ve been having tons of fun, which made today that much more of an interesting change of pace.
I’ve been to a few Holocaust museums and memorials before-Washington D.C., an annual Warsaw Ghetto memorial at my sleep away camp, and a Holocaust remembrance center in my high school library, just to name a few. Each one focused on the same thing, though the scale and mood of each have been completely different, and I had been deeply interested in knowing what made Yad Vashem different, and how its Jerusalem setting would set the mood.
We were led throughout the new exhibit (built six years ago) by a tour guide, Mordecai, who gave us insight, enlightenment, and personal stories as we went in and out of each room. Perhaps the biggest thing I was able to gather from a Holocaust museum in Israel, was Israel’s role in being a refuge for Holocaust survivors. It hadn’t even struck me before Mordecai iterated it today that Israel is home to the largest number of Holocaust survivors. Israel declared its independence only three years after the camps were liberated, and it should have come as no surprise that Israel was an oasis for many of the Jews that emerged from the Holocaust alive.
After our tour, we had a small memorial service in which a few people said words about relatives who lived through and survived the Holocaust, and talked a bit about their stories. Following that, we listened to the first hand accounts of Eliezer, a Polish Jew who endured the Holocaust during his teenage years, survived five work camps, and eventually moved to Israel. Not to mention, he fought with the IDF during Israel’s War of Independence. We were all a little tired (are you starting to see a theme of this trip?), but altogether interested in what he had to say. If I had to come up with one big theme on our time at Yad Vashem, I would say it was “gaining perspective.”
We made our way across Mount Herzl to Israel’s national and military cemetery. I’ve been to Arlington before, the site of the US National Cemetery, and Israel’s version was quite similar, specifically the gravesites of Herzl and John F. Kennedy.
Ronen guided us down to an area of the cemetery in which names of civilians who were killed in terror attacks-just because they were Jews-were inscribed on a wall. He and Shira both told stories of friends and people they knew whose names were inscribed on the wall, and while Ronen played a song for us written by the family of one of the victims-a song played at his funeral-it all got very heavy, very personal, and very intimate. We were led further to the gravesites of soldiers, soldiers of 19, 20, 21 years old. Ronen told us a story of two of his younger brother’s closest friends who were killed, and revealed to us that we were standing right next to their graves. Seeing the graves of these men and women-the same age as most of us-as we stood side by side with our own Israeli soldiers (who have most certainly now become our friends) was an incredible, incredible moment. What they give, have given, and will give so that Jews can have a homeland and that the state of Israel can continue to exist and prosper, had never been more apparent to me than it was at that very moment.
We were all feeling pretty somber upon returning to the bus, so a nap for most of us is most definitely in order as we get ready for a night sure to be a great time. We’re heading south into the desert to stay in Bedouin tents for the night, and we wake up early tomorrow to hike Masada, ride a camel or two, and swim in the Dead Sea. I hope you’re all enjoying the posts and the pictures, and that you’re getting a real idea of how amazing this trip has been. Until next time, laila tov!
Listening to a survivor at Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial Museum
At the Mt. Herzel Army Cemetery