Alef: The NEXT Conversation

The Magnet That Pulls At My Soul

by Daniel M.

“Welcome home.” These were the first words spoken to me by the leader of my Birthright trip as I exited Ben Gurion airport. Home? This doesn’t look like home. I just flew 13 hours to the other side of the world and entered a place I have never been before; a place where I have no family, and everyone is a stranger. But I never feel like a visitor in Israel. I may be in a foreign country, but I am not a foreigner.

When I step onto Israeli soil, I do what my grandfather did in 1982 when he first visited Israel. The man grew up as an orthodox Jew, he dreamt of coming to the land of Zion his entire life and even had to change his name from Eisenberg to a less “Jewish” sounding name in order to get a job. He got down on his knees and kissed the ground. I did the same, although I didn’t know why at the time—ten days later I understood.

Growing up, I was always aware of what was going on in Israel, but there was never a connection. I felt a part of the global Jewish community, but Israel was not a central piece of that relationship. Being connected to Israel meant connecting to something bigger than myself. Western society is based on the individual, on personal gain, but I had been yearning for a connection to a people and I didn’t even know it. Before visiting Israel I did not understand the concept of “peoplehood”—that I am one of only several million Jews alive. Israel connects me to those millions.

Unlike anywhere I have ever been, Israel does weird things to me. I see things in Israel that I have never seen before—hotel custodians wearing yarmulkes, Jews working at McDonalds. Has a man wearing a yarmulke ever pumped your gas before? Jews building roads, bridges, hospitals—an entire country built on the backs of Jews. Remarkable.

Upon leaving Israel I felt I had to do more to serve the Jewish community. I have become actively involved in various Israeli and Jewish organizations within my community. I used to think observance lines segmented Jews, but the trip allowed me to see the Jewish people in a secular way, and taught me the difference between Judaism and Zionism. Birthright is creating a generation of young Jews who experience Israel first-hand, instilling the notion of a homeland and connecting young Jews to the land and the people of Israel. Israel has made me reevaluate my goals and priorities, not only to contribute to the Jewish community but to help educate people about and work towards the prevention of genocide. Visiting Israel sensitizes you to struggle, to hardship, but it also inspires you with the resilience shown by a tiny country that almost didn’t happen.

I am at ease when I am in Israel. I am amazed at the revival of Hebrew and the Jewish culture renaissance that is Zion. I love the falafel and shwarma stands, haggling with the shopkeepers over five lousy shekels. I love the Dead Sea, even hiking in the Negev in August. I love how everything shuts down on Shabbat, as if the entire country goes into hibernation for just one day. The multitude of opinions is at times exhausting but refreshing, and Jerusalem, oh Jerusalem, your mysticism, your stone, your walls, and your closeness to Hashem—my soul cries out to you. Jerusalem makes my heart howl and beam at the same time. Standing at the Kotel, I felt connected to my family, to my ancestors, and to the Jewish people. While walking through the old city on Shabbat, on the way to the Kotel, I felt as if there was someone walking with me, a strange presence, as if I had done this before, 3,000 years ago perhaps, and that person was leading me back, back to our holiest site.

I may live in the Diaspora, but Israel is in my heart and soul. She is constantly on my mind—the sounds, the sights, the smells. I think of Israel when I wake up in the morning, when I check the daily news, when I touch the Star of David around my neck, which I now never remove. It lies on a long chain, dangling in front of my heart, letting me know that she is always there.

“Welcome home.”

It’s true, it is a homecoming for me and for every Jew. I feel at peace when I am in Israel. Life has purpose in Israel. I have purpose in Israel. I am a Jew, and Israel is my home.

Photo by E[...], licensed under Creative Commons.

Read more posts from Issue #19: Israel.

Tags: birthright israel trip, Diaspora, Going Home, Israel, Judaism, Kotel, McDonalds, yarmulke, Zion

Posted by Emily.Comisar@birthrightisraelnext.org, Wednesday, August 18th, 2010, 2:30 pm, Israel.