IST Journal Entries
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6 weeks ago, 98 teenagers flooded DIA clad in matching orange t-shirts ready
to “embark on a journey of a lifetime.” As these same teenagers flood DIA once
again they did not come dressed in matching orange shirts, but rather they came
wearing their experiences and their emotions on their sleeves. As they embraced
their families in emotional reunions, they embraced one another even tighter,
because for 6 weeks these ISTers became family. They knew what it meant to look
out for their brothers and sisters, they learned how to cram themselves into
tight living quarters and they learned about one another. It is through this
informal education that they learned about themselves, who they were, who they
are, and who they want to be.
It’s easy to say that Israel had a big part in this knowledge and
transformation, but it is difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when the shift
occurred. For some it was praying at the Wall for the first time, while others
might have understood themselves as they pushed through the desert and for a
certain group it could have been their Bar or Bat Mitzvah they took part in
while on this trip. But there is still another group that is unaccounted for. It
is the group that does not understand the changes within themselves yet; those
who may not understand the impact that Israel had on them for many years. The
important thing is that each ISTer will realize these changes in one way or
another.
My hope and wish for each participant is that they soaked up every second
while they were on this trip. Although many of them returned with bags full of
clothes, Judaica and other gifts, there are only three things in my mind that
they really needed to bring home: pictures, friends, and memories. As the
participants of IST 2007 move on from this trip and eventually move away from
one another I hope that they will always remember the home they found in Israel
and on IST. You, the parents, the siblings, friends, teachers, and community
have done an unbelievable job shaping and teaching these young adults and I am
beyond impressed with who I encountered and learned about over these 6 weeks. I
am blessed to have been a part of these amazing lives, and I can’t put into
words the emotions I feel and the gratitude I have. I am proud of your children
and wish nothing but the best for each and every one of them. Thank you for an
experience that I will carry with me forever!
NUMBERS
Numbers. Numbers are a crucial part of our lives. We use numbers to measure our
age, our weight, our height, our income, what time it is and so much more.
During our trip here on IST, numbers have played a very important role.
98 strangers set out on a 6 week journey. That’s 42 days, 1,008 hours, 60,480
minutes and 1,280, 800 seconds. 24 is the number of hours spent traveling to
Poland, and 217 is the number of suitcases we carried with us.
3 is the number of death camps we visited. 6 million is the number of Jews
murdered in the holocaust, but 110 is the number of Jews who walked out of
Auschwitz singing “Am Yisrael Chai”.
Five is the time we arrived in Israel and within 6 hours we were standing awe
struck in front of the most holy place in the world, the Kotel.
120 degrees is the temperature in the desert, but 120 million is the number
of stars that came out at night.
20 is the number of camels we rode at the Bedouin tents.
3,000 is the number of years there has been a Jewish community in Tsfat.
6 is the maximum number of people that would fit in a raft on the Jordan
river.
60 is the number of Kilometers we biked in the Golan Heights.
10 is the number of bullets each of us shot during Gadna, and 80 is the
number of nonstop kilometers the sea to sea kids hiked in 3 days.
960 is the number of Jews who committed suicide atop the fortress of Masada,
and 113 Jewish people screamed “ A second time Masada will not fall” over
looking their graves.
700 is the amount of times we have been told to put on a hat and drink water,
and 90 is the percentage of ISTers who got a piercing.
Of the 98 of us, 49 of us are expected to assimilate; but 89 of us see
Judaism as a part of our future, 80 of us fasted for Tisha B’ Av and all 98 of
us have participated in 5 beautiful Shabbats together.
98 is the number of strangers who came on this trip; that’s 980 fingers, 196
hands, 2,744 teeth and 98 varied and unique personalities.
As we learned in Tsfat, in Hebrew Gematria no matter what the number is, it
always equals 1.
98 kids, 15 counselors, 6 weeks – 1 family.
We first got on the plane at DIA as 98 Jewish teenage individuals. We got off as
98 brothers and sisters. We may not all be the best of friends, but we are a
family full of love and respect for each other. When I try to think of the best
moment of this trip I cannot pick just one. I think of the first time I ever saw
the Kotel; waking up to Yehoshua singing, “You are my sunshine,” in the Maktesh
Ramon; our first Shabbat together in Jerusalem; a very intense game of laser tag
in the woods; climbing Masada; taking a mud bath at the Dead Sea; eating lunch
in the alpaca’s public toilet; dinner at Leezy’s house; Matt and Danny’s skit
about the magically reappearing hopping cart of wheat; scaling trees in Gadna;
long bus naps; the Alyn bike ride.
When I began packing my bag for Israel it was hard for me to imagine what
this trip would be like. I had no idea who I would meet, what I would see, and
all the amazing experiences I would have. Now as I begin to pack my bag for the
last time, it is hard to imagine how life will be when I get home. I have made
so many friends who I can’t wait to have late night phone calls and huge slumber
parties with.
I began this trip as an American, fun, hardworking, teenage girl. I end this
trip as a Jewish, smart, persistent, dedicated, young adult. I hope that my 97
brothers and sisters have begun finding themselves on this amazing summer trip
of a lifetime. I know I have and I cannot wait to further my search when I get
home.
This final high school summer vacation has filled me with much love for
Israel. I hope to visit many more times, and maybe even one day when I’m ready,
make Aliyah. I am so grateful to have been given this opportunity to come see,
smell, hear, taste, and most importantly to feel Israel. I wish that everyone
could be so lucky, but for those who are not, I know that my family and I are
bringing back 98 new and different ways to love Israel.
Before leaving on my IST “journey of a lifetime,” I became very scared by the
thought of living without my parents for six weeks. I didn’t know many people
coming on IST so that made it even more difficult to leave home. I went into
this trip knowing I would have to leave my comfort zones in order to experience
it to the fullest. Throughout our first week in Poland I faced many realities
about the massive deaths of Jews in the concentration camps. It was very
unsettling to actually be in the areas that millions of Jews perished. After my
emotional roller-coaster through the camps I was finally on my way home…to
Israel. I have been to Israel once before, but this experience was much
different then when I was with my family. I entered Israel as an individual
seeking different goals as everyone else, and now I am leaving Israel as part of
a family which has conquered mountains, food, bikes, the army, and even bugs.
This trip has not been easy, with lack of sleep and such a large group, this
trip has been hard but worth it. I have made so many great friends and have had
so many experiences that I will never forget. Even through I have missed my
family and my home, I have made it through this trip with many great individual
accomplishments. I have climbed Masada, I rode 60km on a bike, I hiked through
the desert for three days, I survived Gadna, and I never gave up once during any
part of the trip. Those accomplishments are more rewarding than anything I have
accomplished before. I am going back to Denver now with life long friends and
great memories; I am a changed person, but only for the better!
“My mind tells me that that sound is our echo. My heart tells me that is the
dead people of Masada calling back to us ‘Am Yisrael Chai.’” Ben said in his
loud commanding voice. Just moments earlier, as he said, we had heard ghosts.
We finished touring Masada, after hiking it at 0-clock-thirty, and watching
the sun rise.
We walked, still sorted, almost neatly, into bus groups to a place I hadn’t
gone to last time I was there. Danny and Zane told us that as we gathered we
were to be silent, or as silent as 98(ish) teens could ever be.
We all stood waiting, waiting for all the stragglers to come, but more
importantly waiting for something to happen.
“When the Romans came and found the Jews had killed themselves they were
shocked.” Ben began explaining. ‘Oh no’ some of us thought ‘not more crazy
stories and learning’. Ben clearly didn’t care what they thought, because he
continued.
“In Roman culture, committing suicide for a cause is noble. In Jewish
culture, it is considered shameful, so the Romans were shocked.
“When the archaeologists came, they found the bones of the Jews at the bottom
of this ravine.” Naturally all of the ISTers hung their heads over the hot metal
railing separating us from a similar fate. “And so, this ravine is their grave
site.”
All of us standing at the edge of the cliff are tired, drenched with sweat,
and ready to go back to sleep, but we can’t just yet.
Ben tells us about IDF soldiers, who go to Masada for certain ceremonies. He
told us of what they say. It was somewhat long and in Hebrew, so he said it
again in English. “A second time Masada will not fall.”
“Now,” he says, “we are going to shout that over the edge of the ravine, one
word at a time on my count.” We all think how cheesy that will be.
“The first word we will say is ‘a’. On my count, 1…2…3…” Ben directs.
“Aaayyy!!!” our collective voices sounded puny and pathetic. Then, we hear
it. “Aaay ay ay ay” our echo calls back. It sounds eerie and unreal.
“That’s not loud enough!” Ben shouts at us, “Louder!”
This time on his count we shout even louder than before. Each word is
preceeded by Ben’s countdown and followed by a second’s worth of silence, then
the otherwordly echo.
“A…Second…Time…Masada…will…Not…Fall!”
“Now, we will shout one last thing” Ben says to the newly energized group,
“Am Yisrael Chai.”
“Am, 1, 2, 3…”
“Am!” followed by the echo. “Yisrael” and “Chai: follow with similar results.
“My mind tells me that that is an echo. My heart tells me that is the dead
people of Masada, calling back to us ‘Am Yisrael Chai.’”
At some point in our lives, we find the need to search for something more.
Israel was the ultimate opportunity to search for that unfound connection that
somehow completes you. In trying to connect, you can get lost or find your way;
hate or love; find questions or answers. My time in Israel is more than just a
trip, it’s a struggle, in addition to a gift.
Israel in its self can be a conflict regarding which path to take and what
opinion you develop, whether it be regarding Zionism, spirituality, culturalism,
or just the simple search for heritage and tradition. Through the hardship in
Poland to the sense of accomplishment at the peak of Masada, I personally have a
new understanding of what has been sacrificed for my future and generations to
come.
It’s somewhat indulgent to say that I came on this trip for my own personal
growth and I am very proud of what I have endured and the obstacles I have
overcome. It’s a test in many senses, we studied for it and took it as it came,
question by question and challenge by challenge; and with rigor we all in a
sense passed with flying colors and a new outlook on the place we have come to
call home.
“Yalla guys, let’s go” Netanel shouted over the groans of the tired, sweaty
and sun beaten group. We were on the home stretch; we had hiked 77 out of the
80km hike. Only three more to go! We all slowly gathered our bags and stumbled
to our feet only to trudge the next three km through the banana plantation. We
walked for what seemed like hours and finally the beach club came into view. Our
tired feet seemed to instantly rejuvenate as people began to run. We saw people
with towels and bathing suits, our hearts quickened with glee. We were so close
we could taste it, touch it, breathe it. All at once, the Galilee came into
view. We dropped our packs, threw down our hats, and wriggled our broken feet
free from the bindings of our hiking boots and sprinted. The cold water spread
over our toes, feet, and crept up our legs as we waded into the sea. Never had
water felt so good, never had accomplishment tasted so sweet. We had done it, we
shouted out with excitement as the natives starred at us in confusion. We had
hiked sea to sea.
Gadna
It’s weird for me too be writing right now from a place that three
generations ago would have been laughed at, two generations ago was still a
dream, and the generation before us fought so hard to make into a legitimate
reality. I guess it’s the same feeling (to some extent) everywhere I walk in
Israel, but here the feeling is truly magnified. I write from the barracks at
one of the three Gadna bases across Israel, which is giving me and 40 other
ISTers a real taste of the IDF. Even though it is only a taste, the experience
is already giving us a new appreciation for what I consider to be the most
important job in the entire world…defending the land of Israel.
Tiberias to Eilat
In Israel, everyone has a story. Whether it’s a brother, a friend or a
cousin, everyone knows someone directly affected by the hostile situation here,
it is quite simply reality. The conflict hits so close to home for so many
people that Israel was forced to find a way to defend itself and mandatory
conscription became the only option. I have only been here for 5 weeks, but I
can already see you don’t have to look far to find the most complicated moral
dilemmas on the planet. Everyone cares so much about the IDF because everyone
serves, and for 3 years every Israeli citizen’s life is totally dedicated to
their country, defending the Jewish homeland. How could I ever pass up the
opportunity to experience that?
The past four days weren’t easy but they were a walk in the park compared to
the real thing. Sure we ran, did push-ups, ate bland food, and stood achshav (at
attention), but compared to real basic training, it was all good. In my opinion,
however, the Gadna experience wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about the ceremonies
or the obstacle course. It wasn’t about the mud on our faces or the night we
slept outside in tents. It wasn’t about the classroom sessions where we learned
about the ways the IDF defends Israel so effectively and it wasn’t even about
shooting an M16. What was most important over the past 4 days at Gadna was for
all of us to develop a real appreciation for how lucky the Jews across the world
are to have such a strong standing army protecting our state. What the IDF,
Israel would not exist and that is a very scary thought for me. Never again will
I say the words “Am Yisrael Chai” without taking a second to remember the people
(like the ones I met at Gadna) who make that statement a reality.
We were told the bike ride would be mostly downhill or flat, so naturally I
was excited to jump on the bike and feel the wind blowing through my hair. The
first few kilometers were easy, the next few, a bit more challenging but nothing
I can’t heavily breathe my way through.
We got to lunch and I was shocked when I heard we had ridden about 40
kilometers, it had felt like 10! We were told that the next stretch until the
end was the hardest but I thought I would be fine. I felt great, I was
reenergized from lunch and I promised myself I wouldn’t stop early or get off
until the end. Everybody hopped back onto their bikes ready to go. We started up
this hill that I struggled with almost immediately and I knew that this was
going to be a long ride to the end. I wasn’t in the back at all and a lot of
people had already given up, but I still felt I needed to pedal faster up the
hills. The problem was that the wind picked up right when I pushed it into high
gear and it wasn’t blowing in a helpful direction either. In fact, it was almost
blowing me sideways and I had to pedal twice as hard to keep my constant speed
of almost nothing. There were times I wanted to stop and take a break and there
were times I wanted to give up completely, but I never did. I never stopped
because I wanted to make it to the end, even if it meant I was last.
It turned out that I was far from last, which was exciting and I never
stopped, I never got off, I never gave up. That was my biggest accomplishment.
The journey to help the kids at ALYN Hospital had been amazing. It started at
home by raising money for our bike ride. July 11th quickly rolled around and we
completed the ride for this amazing cause. I think that this was one of the most
physically challenging parts of this trip. My personal goal was to finish the
whole ride (which I did!). It was a long ride and the heat was intense. However,
after I finished the first part of the ride, I knew I could do the second. What
kept me motivated were two main things…first, having the support from my friends
on IST, that I have grown so close to in the past month. Second, was knowing
what an incredible cause we were riding for. This ride is one of the most
rewarding things I have accomplished all trip. It was rewarding not only because
I finished my goal, but also because we all did such a mitzvah for these kids.
The closing part of this journey was getting the chance to visit and play
with the kids we raised money for during my option week in Jerusalem. I loved
getting to play with the kids as if they weren’t in a hospital, but rather as
normal kids. Just this activity made the bike ride all worth it.
“Party On A Boat.” I never thought for one moment that it was even possible
to have a party on a boat, but Tiberias proved me wrong. When we first got to
Tiberias we had dinner at a fairly nice restaurant. After dinner we headed over
to the boat. When I looked at it the first thought that came into my mind was
Noah’s Arc except for all the animals were missing. The boat was full of 98 kids
all dancing and having a good time and I really enjoyed myself and it was a good
chance to get away from the normal everyday activities and just let lose. In
conclusion, I thought the party on the boat was one of the best night activities
I have very done. If anyone has to chance to go to Tiberias I highly recommend
that they take a chance and Party on the Boat.
As I write, the epic journey that has become week four of the Israel Study
Tour comes to a close. This week has included everything from a water hike
through the Golan Heights to a 50 kilometer bike ride for the children at ALYN
Hospital. It has been an amazing week and just another wonderful addition to the
trip as a whole.
This past Friday we split for Shabbat and either visited family or enjoyed
some well deserved rest at several different Bed and Breakfasts throughout
Israel, a perfect remedy to the exhaustion of such a rigorous trip.
This week came to a close with the group again separating into four different
options for the coming week, Gadna (the army experience), working on a kibbutz,
a hike from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Galilee, and community service
in Jerusalem. I personally choose to perform Chesed (charity) in Jerusalem.
Although we are only in our second day our group has already cleaned a forest,
dressed as clowns for the children at ALYN, helped out with an art project at
Shalva Rehabilitation Center, and delivered food to the soldiers at check points
around the city. It has definitely been an incredible week but we still have a
lot more to come in the last stretch of the trip.
I hope this trip will never end. The memories and experiences I have gathered
over the past five weeks will last me a lifetime. I do not know where to begin
because it feels like I’ve been here for months.
I suppose I’ll recall the best week of the entire journey: this week. On
Sunday, after the bed and breakfast Shabbat, the group split into the four
options we had been awaiting the whole trip. My first choice for options week
was Jerusalem Chesed, or Jerusalem Community Service. Most of the group chose
Gadna or army training. I didn’t let myself choose that option; authority and
pushups do not mix well with me. I had no idea what to expect from Jerusalem
Chesed, but I was nonetheless ecstatic to return to Jerusalem. Right now, I
could not be happier. Jerusalem is a magical place and helping the community
here is one of my greatest accomplishments. The first day we built trails to
archeological sites in the Jerusalem Forest and enjoyed some down time later
that night with the movie The Illusionist. The following day was even more
amazing. We dressed up as clowns and visited handicapped children at the local
ALYN hospital. That experience was by far one of the most rewarding experiences
in my whole life. And if that was not enough, we visited Shalva, a center for
children that suffer from mental illnesses. We participated in music therapy and
led an arts and crafts project for the kids. Seeing the smiles on the children’s
faces and hearing their laughter hid the suffering they had and will continue to
endure. The day was still not over. We traveled to three checkpoints and
delivered food and drinks to the soldiers. They were so grateful for our thanks
and support. Today the adventure continued. We packed 300 boxes with food and
supplies for the needy and celebrated by spending four hours on Ben Yehuda
Street. And believe it or not, we still have more chesed to accomplish.
I really, truly cannot envision this trip ending. I feel like a changed
person. Israel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I will cherish my
journey for as long as I live.
As IST ’07 reaches its halfway point there is a mystical energy in the air.
One participant explained her experience as “one that I know I will never
forget.” Now that the program has three weeks remaining each participant must
answer the question: Is the glass half full or half empty? Do I dwell on the
fact that it is already halfway over, or do I bask in the idea that I still have
three weeks to experience as much as I can? These questions surfaced among many
ISTers and with the rationality of their young adult minds they decided that
three weeks meant infinite memories and experiences.
These 98 young adults have traveled the rich history of their ancestors. They
have touched the Kotel and pricked the barbed wire of Auschwitz, tasted falafel
and heard the stories of adolescent life in Israel today. Although their journey
seems extensive and far reaching they know that there is still a world within
this country that yearns to be discovered.
This excursion has spread ISTers thin throughout the country, including an
experience where each participant was able to spend 3 days in a settlement with
Denver’s sister region, Ramat HaNegev. They were welcomed into the homes of
their Israeli peers where they were able to share in meals and attempt to
participate in rich conversations. Their experience culminated in a night under
the stars in a Bedouin tent playing games and building connections that would
hopefully carry across the Atlantic. The next morning included rounds of laughs
as each participant hopped on a camel with a friend and took pride in the fact
that none of their friends at home could say that they rode a camel…before
eating breakfast.
As IST traveled north, we were able to stop for a day in Tel Aviv to
celebrate the 4th of July with a night of Karaoke and dance parties on the
buses. Then the streets of Tzfat were not ready for the 98 eager bodies that
flooded their markets and synagogues learning about the mysticism of the Jewish
people. ISTers wandered the stores shopping for friends and family, asking
friends if a Jewish star necklace would be a good present for their mom or
choosing a Tallis for a brother’s Bar Mitzvah. As the group continues to
experience the greenery of the North, they will be exposed to physical
challenges including the 60k bike ride for ALYN hospital or kayaking in Sde
Nehemia. Not only does each challenge make the ISTers stronger physically, but
it allows them to grow mentally in a way that they have never seen before.
Thus far, the bond that this group has created shows that IST means more than
a trip to Israel with their peers. As cliché as it may sound, it is an
experience that these young adults will carry with them always. The pictures
that they take and the journals they write are only a fraction of what they will
take away. Just recently after a 6 hour hike through beautiful waterfalls,
ISTers were able to relax at the beach of the Kinneret. As the sun set and the
waves rolled in at the feet of 98 high schoolers from Colorado, two newly
acquainted friends let their feet sink in the sand as they stood arm in
arm…there’s no doubt that they will slowly sip what remains within their
half-full cups.
The center. They pray, work, sleep, rock. Yeah, Jerusalem, center of life. The
center of being, feeling, and us. Our people, our heritage, and our future. We
may live in the present, but our prayers will come from the past in hopes of a
future. A happy, healthy, Jewish future.
I stood at the Kotel and heard a woman weeping today. She wept slow and heavy
on the dense Israeli air. “Am Yisrael Chai.” My fingertips were pressed to the
wall, pulsating. But with every breath and cry of the woman my palms sweat.
Seconds passed and my palms were wet, tips dry. I realized the center of all
Judaism was in my palm. Not in my heart, or soul, or even brain. The same palm I
use to shake hands, write my name, eat at my Chipotle. My life in my hands. My
Judaism in my palms. The center of my being, my world, the future. With all I
touch, feel, hold, my Judaism is brushed, flirted, and spiritually stimulated.
My communicators, my tools, and my personal prayer index.
Hannah Hoffman
I peered out a dirty window today. Greyish blue glass, white walls, and me. The
view overlooked the dense city of Zfat. The air here was heavy with incense and
takes two breaths to catch yours again. The window allowed me to look with new
eyes at a million year old world. My history and spirituality laid out before
the tired window.
I poked my head out the window and allowed light to caress my face. Slowly
and deeply I breathed in Zfat. Drank in my spirituality and absorbed the weight.
To be perfectly honest, I owe my Judaism to one person. I owe my passion,
dedication, and love for the Jewish people to one person. I even owe my
excitement for coming on IST to one person. The person who taught me what it
really means to be a Jew is the one person I owe it all to, my dad.
I had never seen my dad cry in my entire life, never once. Not at sad
occasions like funerals or even joyous occasions like my Bar Mitzvah; he always
knew exactly what to say and never let his emotions overcome him. On the morning
that I left for IST my dad, at a loss for words, shed tears.
For the past three weeks, that moment, watching my dad, with tears on his
cheeks, struggling to find the words to explain how proud he was that I was
embarking on this journey, has truly resonated with me. If it could make my dad
cry, I couldn’t even imagine how truly special this experience would be. But
now, halfway through IST, I understand and know why my dad was crying that
Monday morning.
There are no words that can even begin to describe how truly wonderful this
place is. So many amazing thoughts and feelings run through my head on a daily
basis here. I have a hard time even putting them to words (which is a weird
concept for a person who usually has no trouble finding what to say). Emotions
in Israel become so raw and pure. I struggle believing they even have the
potential of being defined. I realize why it is not surprising at all that even
the most articulate person in the world, like my dad, could be left with nothing
but raw emotions when it comes to this place. There is nothing like Israel in
the entire world, this place is truly amazing.
We have been here for two weeks and we will be here for three more and I have
no doubt a loss for words will overcome me often. Each and every time, however,
I am reminded of the person in my life who always knew exactly what to say, how
he too was stumped by this place and I am comforted. You don’t always need to
explain in words how life changing an experience is, but each and every day I
fill in the blank my dad had that morning and I feel more connected to him than
I ever have before.
Jerusalem
I have never in my entire life experienced a Shabbat
like today. Here, in Israel, the Shabbat atmosphere is literally tangible from
Friday night until Havdallah, something I am positive is unlike anywhere else in
the world.
We all needed a day of rest and relaxation after the
amazing, but long week we have had, today was just that. We woke up later,
before splitting into five different groups to experience Shabbat at five
different places throughout Jerusalem. For me, the choice of where to go was
easy, and even having to get up an hour before the other groups did not phase my
desire to experience Shabbat at the Kotel.
I imagine my feelings walking up to the wall will be
the same throughout my entire life and as I approached the most holy sight on
earth, I could feel my heart pounding and another blank stare of awe came over
my face. Nothing had changed since the first time I saw it a little less than a
week ago, it was still by far the most amazing sight on the face of the earth.
The wall and the area around it were overcome with
Jewish life unlike anything I have ever seen; Men davening as loudly as they
possibly could, trying to steal some of the thunder from the Minyan next to
them. I walked around and experienced three different Bar Mitzvahs and a few of
my friends were even blessed by one of the most famous Rabbis in the world. The
place is truly amazing.
As our first week in Israel comes to a close, I have never been happier in my
entire life. Everything from the Negev to the wall and the city of David has
been an extraordinary experience. I am so glad we have four weeks left.
What I want to be
Who am I?
Am I going to be just another man with a fancy tie?
Who will I become?
Am I going to find a passion or just work for a large sum?
The passion shall come from far within
An experience shared with friends and kin
Live your life to the max
From this day on, I lay the tracks.
As we gaze in the nothingness of the Negev, we see
more than we could ever possibly comprehend. There is the struggle of an ant to
survive on none of the necessities we rely on, there are endless rocks and piles
of sand patiently waiting to cool off in the shade; there are the budding
relationships of friends, new and old, while struggling to make it through the
blazing sun to the next resting spot. Our lives are molding and growing in the
empty crowdedness of the desert. We are able to think and discover a whole new
part of our lives. So as I gaze out into the horizon of the Negev, I feel that
this empty land is opening me up to hundred of new possibilities in life.
We marched along the same path as our family did
only generations ago, only we know that this is our past, a realization that
many of those before us never had the chance to see, but they kept their faith,
and kept our religion strong under the worst circumstances. Although they may be
gone, their memories live on within each and every one of us, because we know
the truth of the brutality that they endured and with that we can never forget
while we examine the camp and feel such shock, our relatives lived here and felt
the fear, while we view the gas chambers and the tracks, our families were
brought here to be killed. But from all of this we can remember their fight and
their faith and know they passed the religion onto us in confidence, that we
will have as much faith as they did. We must remember, examine and relive their
lives; at the same time we must rejoice because we have survived.
Well, here we are, the last day of June, in
Israel. In Jerusalem we are finishing celebrating Shabbat and preparing to
begin our 3rd week together. Time is going by so fast. Just yesterday we
were hiking out of the desert and just over a week ago we were walking the
streets of Poland. Already we have been tracing our people’s history,
endlessly searching for a connection. While in the desert, we were each
challenged emotionally, mentally and physically. We were pushed to our
boundary. I have been to the desert before and for me it is the first place
I was ever able to be truly honest with myself. I hope for each of us that
the desert gave us a special gift for us to cherish forever. As we embark on
this next week I hope you find it. Shavuah Tov.
F. Scott Fitzgerald once described human despair as the valley of ashes,
illustrating human decay while the eyes of an uncaring God did not interfere
with the roar of America in the 1920’s. The eyes of T.J. Eckleburg look
listlessly onto two spheres representing the disillusionment and moral decay of
the modernist era. Who should realize that nearly a decade after the end of the
Jazz Age, Poland would become a Valley of Ashes, a place of human suffering that
the U.S. and England intentionally ignored?
As we ventured through Birkenau, Dvorah Geller, our tour guide, illustrated
how many people were sent to death or prolonged deaths, and were humiliated for
being true to themselves. Just by the architecture of the bunkers, railroad
trucks, and the industrial nature of the toilets, these death camps felt and
smelled like death only sixty years later.
Yet, as emotional as Birkenau was to many of the ISTers, I felt emotionally
empowered to have left on the Hungarian railroad tracks singing Am Yisrael Chai,
meaning “Israel still lives” and Oseh Shalom, meaning “may the one who makes
peace above, may peace descend on all of us and Israel.” I found myself puzzled,
because of the utter destruction that left people degraded and without identity.
Our next death camp was Auschwitz I, where we walked where many had perished
under the sign Arbeit Macht Frei, “Work Makes You Free.” This smaller, deceptive
camp illustrated the monstrosity of human decay. Of the many artifacts in its
museum, the one most striking were the piles of shoes, because they all
represented the death of many lives, emotionally and maybe physically to 6
million Jews, and homosexuals, gypsies, priests, and political threats to the
Nazi regime.
The last overpowering death camp was Majdanek, where the gas chamber and
crematorium were separated, and people were degraded even in death. Families
could not recognize each other with shaved heads; prisoners used the toilets in
front of guards near barbed wire; prisoners were shot for fun; the manager’s
wife skinned dead bodies to make lampshades; people were dissected for valuables
before incineration in the crematoria. 78,900 people died there, 60% Jews. When
the Soviets liberated the camp in 1944, they found ashes and put them in a
mausoleum that contains 7 tons of ashes, each fistfull representing one person.
The lasting message of Poland to me was that the statistics of 6 million are
too big to serve the honor of all those who died, because they were people who
had hopes and dreams to go study Torah and be in Jerusalem someday. I feel
honored to have been blessed to visit our homeland, and make sure these Jews who
died in the Holocaust will be remembered and did not die in vain. Anne Frank
truly was right, that in spite of everything, there will be hope because some
people are really good in their hearts.
Singing Eli Eli
I’ll never sing that song
the same way again.
Suddenly it all means more to me.
And to think
it meant so much to me before,
that I had no idea how much more
there was.
The sand,
stuck between my toed from the beaches
of the past.
The sea,
the calming sound you search for in shells
The rush of the waters,
washing the dirt from my bare feet
when walking in the woods.
The crash of the heavens,
lights flash, and loud booms shake the earth.
The prayer of the heart,
every poem is a prayer from my heart,
soul, mind, and every fiber of my being.
Just being there,
just seeing all we saw that day.
Feeling all the tension and emotion
in the very air.
It made the words feel different,
as if I put blue sunglasses
on my thoughts.
I have never cried while singing
that song before,
it was a song of hope,
and still is.
That hope seemed so small,
after seeing a world of hate.
Yet it was so strong.
People,
yes, people we didn’t know,
came to listen to us,
yes, us – a bunch of tone deaf,
Jewish teens.
People came to the edge of our oval,
I’m not even sure if they could
understand a word we were saying.
It didn’t matter,
sadness, mingling with hope is the
same in all languages.
I will never sing that song the same way
ever,
ever,
ever times six million,
again.
Ever again.
(Inspiration On IST we went to Majdanek, and there is a huge pile of ashes
that we stood next to and sang Eli Eli.)
This room. This very room. The walls still stained a pale blue from what took
place here. This room. This very room. The floor so cold from the death to so
many innocent people. This room. This very room. The greatest tragedy in all of
human history occurred here. This room. This very room. Today I do my part. In
this room. This very room, I bear witness.
I wrote these words in the most horrible place I have ever been in my entire
life, the gas chamber at concentration camp Majdanek. In a sense, what I wrote
in the gas chamber encapsulates my feelings about what we saw in Poland, but in
another, it was so much more. Sure the places we visited were some of the
saddest sights any of us have ever seen, but they were also places where we felt
more connected to our past than ever before. We connected to the past of our
people as we were reminded of how truly lucky we are. We are no different than
the Jews who came before us and perished in the Holocaust, but at the end of the
day we were lucky enough to be able to walk out of Majdanek, Berkinau and
Auschwitz, like so few who came before us.
Zach Siegel
Looking back I now know how important it was that I came here to visit my
past and my roots, but most importantly to bear witness. I was a witness to the
beautiful Jewish life that once dominated parts of Krakow. I was a witness to
the horror that took place at Auschwitz, Birkenau and Majdanek. I was a witness
to the great teaching that once took place at the great Yeshiva of Lublin. I was
a witness to the amazing Jewish life that once existed at the Shtetl of Tykocin
and I was also a witness to their cold blooded murder as I stood at their mass
grave. I was a witness.
I was greatly changed by this week in Poland and I have no doubt it is only
the beginning of the most amazing experience of my entire life. I have never
before been more proud to be a Jew and in my mind that is what this is all
about.
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