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Israel 360

Fawn Gwynallen

July 21, 2007

      Shabbat Shalom.

      Courage is... the knowledge of how to fear what ought to be feared and how not to fear what ought not to be feared. Words from the incredible David Ben Gurion. I wont say that I feared going to Israel, I never thought that suicide bombers would attack any areas where I would be, but since Id never been to Israel before I did not know what the atmosphere would be like. One of fear? One of tension? One of expectation? One of anticipation, as the people wait for the next bomb to go off? I guess this shows my initial ignorance about the state of things in Israel, because what I came to see was that regardless of their political situation, the Jews of Israel were not about to lead their lives in constant fear.

      When I was first accepted into the Taglit Birthright program I did not know what to expect. I was thrilled, beyond a doubt, to be going to Israel the land of the Jewish People but I had no idea what it would look like, what it would feel like, anything. The moment I stepped off the plane at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv on June 4, I noticed an immediate difference. Its like something in the air is different, welcoming. However, as my bus drove up to our hotel in Tiberius, I began to get the distinct impression was that I wasnt in a foreign country at all. I was on a bus with 40 American teenagers, everyone speaking English, driving down a highway that could have been anywhere in the world. As I looked closer at my surroundings, though, the little differences popped out at me all around me was shrubbery, rolling mountains, villages built into the side of those mountains, and -- JEWS. Throughout the week it was those little differences that impacted me the most. Wherever I went, I saw Chassidim Ben Yehuda Street, open markets in Jerusalem, Rabin Square, Jaffa. And wherever I went be it the Galilee, the Golan, the Jordan River, the Negev, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, or the Mediterranean I felt surrounded by an implied understanding of those around me that I have never felt before. 

      As Im sure many of you know, I did not grow up in this synagogue. I only moved here the same year that Rabbi Shmuel moved here, the fall of 2004, the fall of my junior year of high school. For the previous 15 years of my life I lived in areas with small to nonexistent Jewish populations rural Oregon, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. The Jews that I knew in my area of southern Oregon were more secular and well I wont say nonobservant, but at least, non-observant by Orthodox standards. On the Eastern Shore of Virginia I was the only Jewish kid in my school, let alone that whole county, or the next county. So, even though we went up to my Aunt and Uncles house in Pennsylvania for the High Holydays and other festivals, there was still no Jewish community with which I could connect. 

      Here in DC we found a large Jewish community and even a growing synagogue to join! I enjoyed meeting Jewish students at Montgomery Blair High where I went to school, and I got way too excited whenever I saw a guy in a black hat walking down the street. For me, it was so delightfully out of the ordinary - but, I think that because I hadnt grown up with a surrounding of Jews in my life, I didnt feel like I really needed one. I didnt seek out Jewish friends if they happened to be Jewish than great! But it was never really a priority. 

      But in Israel, I became aware of the true importance to my life of being in a majority Jewish environment. This lack of Jewish community growing up contributed highly to my constant awe of being in a country where EVERYONE we spoke to and EVERYONE with whom we had any contact, was Jewish, other than one night with the Bedouins and a brief visit to a Northern Druze village. Jewish cab drivers, Jewish waiters, Jewish police, Jewish bus drivers, Jewish shopkeepers. Now, this is obviously not a completely correct picture of Israels religious make-up, but it is what we were introduced to. In an environment where nearly everyone you meet is Jewish, there is this instant connection you have to someone walking down the street, to your tour guide, even to other students on the bus. I felt that everyone in Israel understood each other in a way that is not possible here in America where everyone is so different. Not possible, that is, if you do not live in a highly Jewish neighborhood. 

      If I walked up to an older man who is begging on the streets of Jerusalem, someone whose life experience is so vastly different from mine, there is still that bond. We are both Jewish, and while I was in Eretz Yisrael, thats all that seemed to matter. For me, this feeling of belonging was the main thing that I got out of the trip. It made me realize that even if I dont consciously seek out a Jewish presence in my everyday life, and even if I feel that people are people regardless of religion, the fact remains that being among those who understand you on a spiritual level is more important than anything.

      Even though most people on bus 626 with me had been raised in a Jewish environment, being in a state with near total Jewish population had a definite and obvious effect on the whole group. Most of my bus participants, not including the eight Israeli Soldiers who joined us for part of the trip, were Freshman Hillel Students from Towson, with about 5 or 6 people from UMBC, and most of us came in cliques. These cliques were quite obvious the first couple days you came with certain people, you stayed with certain people. And I have to admit that Im guilty of that as well I came with my friends, I stayed with my friends. As we got into the swing of things, however, you could really see the cliques breaking up and the entire bus becoming one big family as cheesy as that soundsOver the next few days we did more that required us to act as a group: the welcoming of 8 wonderful IDF soldiers into our ranks, group games, discussion sessions, late night cruises on the Sea of Galilee, hushed stargazing in the Negev, play dates on the beaches of the Mediterranean and Dead Sea, nights in the hotel bars, emotional pilgrimages to the Old City and Western Wall, braving the frigid depths of the Jordan River, and bonding over Hebrew rap on the bus. By the end of the trip, people who had begun the trip as complete strangers hugged each other in farewell at the airport with memories that would last a lifetime.

      One of the most memorable experiences on the trip for me, which I will remember for a long time to come, is stargazing in the middle of the Negev. I have never seen so many stars! Since I kept a diary of basically every step of the trip, there is a section about that night that Id like to read.

June 7, 2007: Tonight was so magical! After dinner in a Bedouin camp we walked blindly out into the darkness of the Negev for a stargazing ceremony.  We couldnt see anything so progress over the rocks was slow. Everyone sat about 20 feet away from each other, alone, spread across the rocky hill. We sat, silent, for about 5 minutes just gazing up at the jeweled expanse above us before moving quietly back to one giant circle. The sky was just breathtaking. Ive never seen so many stars before! We went around the circle and each said a word that expressed how we felt at that moment alone, silent, in the vast, endless desert beneath the giant canopy of night. I said tranquil although come to think of it, infinite would have fit just as well. We all sang a niggun, the angels song that Mama used to sing as a lullaby In the name of Adonai, God of Yisrael From the middle of the circle, Stephanie led a discussion on what we thought of this desert and whether we considered it spiritual or not. Also, what our definition of spirituality was. I said that spirituality is unexplainable wonders of the universe as well as everyday occurrences which strike some emotional chord in your heart. I thought that the contrast between the cold, seemingly deserted desert and the limitless heavens was quite striking. Fascinated by the abundance of stars I found myself wondering, once again, how they got there, what is out there, and what sparked this chain of events that brought the universe, as well as humanity, to where it is today.

      Interestingly, there were not many emotional, spiritual moments on the trip where you could just sit and think like that; relax for a moment and soak in the awesomeness of the Holy Land. Even though there were not many spiritual moments on the trip there were a number of memorable ones.

      Our first day in Israel we hiked Mt Meron in the Golan Heights. From there we distinctly saw the Lebanese/Israeli border. Lebanon was yellow, line, Israel was green. Really makes you appreciate Nature Preservation laws. On the mountain we paused to have small group discussions about Jewish Memory for the whole nation as well as our personal Jewish memories. In this discussion we explored a little of our peoples history and how traumatic events, which seems to be most of our history, effected us. I think that all of our hardships have made us stronger and better able to handle future adversity. Slavery in Egypt gave us the experience to handle hardship. The Diaspora allowed us to learn how to survive on our own, without a given land. And there are many other examples that I wont get into. For many this had the surprising effect of bringing them closer to Hashem as they prayed throughout their suffering. Im not saying that Im glad our history is filled with persecution, of course not, but I think that in a way persecution has helped us survive for millennia. 

      When we climbed Masada at 4 oclock Friday morning to watch the sunrise, I couldnt help but imagine that day so many years ago when the Jewish people sacrificed themselves to avoid murder by the Romans. Some would say that suicide is cowardly, but to me the story of Masada is one of bravery and strength of character which shows the dedication of the Jewish people to survive.

      Early in the week during a lecture about the current political situation in Israel, the military history of the last 60 years, and the current wars, something that the speaker said really struck me. He said, even though we live in the midst of all this horror, it is not what we think about when we wake up in the morning. Instead we think about our jobs, our day, our family, and possibly our breakfast. We think about what you think about. Otherwise, how could we go on? Talk about bravery. Israelis are the epitome of courageousness. That one minute alone filled me with even more respect for Israel and her people than I had before.

      When we entered Jerusalem and gathered on Mount Hertzel to make a group kiddish, motzi, and shehechianu, I remember gazing out upon the city and the golden dome of the mosque with such awe and wonder. As we sang the words of the Shehehcianu they had more meaning to me than ever because I was not just thanking God for keeping me alive and sustaining me for any reason at all. I was thanking Him for keeping me alive to see Jerusalem. I was thanking him for letting me come home. 

      Ill end with a quote from Golda Meir, Above all, this country is our own. Nobody has to get up in the morning and worry what his neighbors think of him. Being a Jew is no problem here. I pray that one day no Jew anywhere in the world will ever have to worry about his religion.

      Shabbat Shalom.