by Ra’anan Gurewitsch, Young Judaea Year Course in Israel Participant

I woke up like any other unemployed teenager on August 1st; at three in the afternoon, to a Facebook notification and a text message, both reading, “ONE MONTH TILL YEAR COURSE!”

As I put the phone down and began to fall back asleep, I shot up out of bed in shock and excitement. “Wait… How long till year course?” I thought to myself, “there’s no way it’s only a month!” I couldn’t believe it, but it was true. That far-off thing I signed up for that seemed so– well– far off, was only a month away. I was now beginning that stage that I dreaded for so long. That month when I’d have to somehow do everything from packing to shopping to saying my farewells AND not go completely insane.

Now, there are three days until Year Course and it seems like ever yday I have been getting more and more excited to move all the way out to Israel, become more independent, and make lasting and unforgettable friendships. The anticipation for this experience has made this month of preparation significantly less stressful. A combination of spending the previous month at Camp Tel Yehudah, where every senior staff member would insist I was about to have the best year of my life, and joining the Facebook page for Section 2 Tochnit Yama have made this summer extraordinarily exciting.

As Year Course quickly approaches, I have set my focus on physical and mental preparation. I’ve consulted the packing list, friends, and family for tips on packing smart and light. I’ve got everything from a camelback to power converters to an international student ID packed up and ready to go. All I need now is for these next few days to fly by.

I hope the transition from living with my parents in the United States to living independently in Israel will be a smooth one and I am confident that my madrichim, whom I am very excited to meet, will do everything they can to help. Ultimately, I cannot wait to move into my apartment in Bat Yam to kick off the best year of my life. Until then, I’ll be at home itching in anticipation.

By Dr. Avi Rose
Director of Education, Young Judaea Year Course in Israel

As I sit and contemplate how to begin addressing the confusing and deeply painful events of this summer, I see that I am not alone. Friends, colleagues, even those in the media are trying to make sense of what has taken place. We are all, it seems, asking the same questions: How did we get to this point? Could we have acted differently in order to prevent this conflict, or was it unavoidable? Did we wage a restrained and ethically minded military campaign? How can we end the current conflict in such a way as to begin a process of healing and move toward a just and lasting coexistence? Is there hope?

I contemplate all this as I, along with the other dedicated and experienced staff of Year Course, prepare for the arrival of our newest students. We know that they too will be asking these questions, in addition to ‘usual’ issues that we bring to our learning environment, questions concerning a personal connection to Israel, Judaism and Zionism? Does this mean that we need to set these issues aside in light of the current conflict?

I, for one, think that we do not. I believe that the situation highlights the overall questions that we have always worked with students to answer, questions about the nature of Jewish existence, the creation and growth of the Zionist ideology and the development of a modern State that attempts to function as a reflection of both. It seems that this is a real-time test case for the State of Israel and for the Jewish people. We have to confront some very tough questions concerning our ability to survive, prosper, and function in a manner consistent with our religious and ethical principles.

As we present the programming, travel, volunteering and informal education that will take place on Year Course, we will not shy away from the deep existential dilemmas of war, of life in the Middle East, and of the need to work, live, fight and survive in accordance with our cultural and spiritual code. By being here with us as Israel ‘picks up the pieces’ and reflects on what has taken place and what will come next, students will see how Israel has always functioned—a real place with a deep commitment to self-criticism and improvement. This is in many ways the only answer we can give to the tragic loss of life on both sides of this current conflict, but most especially to the parents, siblings, partners, children and friends of our fallen soldiers. It is for them that Israel will continue, will heal and will learn to re-balance itself in new and hopefully better ways as it seeks a path out of war and into a more promising future.

Far from being the worst time to come and experience a year in Israel, this is perhaps the best. Yes, Israel will seem less ‘pretty’ (though she is still physically stunning and worth exploring), less ‘fantasy’ and more reality—myths will be quickly shattered. However, the reality is in fact quite impressive; Israeli society will come together to mourn, to re-group and move on. Witnessing the unique Israeli response to such events, exemplary of the Jewish value of ahdut, or unity, can be a transformative experience for anyone, particularly a young and newly independent adult trying to grapple with their own Jewish identity.  The tone of conversation may not be soft or polite, but it is authentic and vital and something that every Jew should witness and weigh in on.

I know that Young Judaea is expert at keeping its participants safe from physical danger as much as is humanly possible. This summer, I witnessed the amazing work of colleagues in our logistics and short-term program departments as they shepherded groups out of risky areas while still providing them with sound educational and recreational experiences. It should be noted that all this was done while many of our staff were called into active duty. Only a handful of parents felt the need to pull their children out of Israel and all went home safe and sound.

Coming on Year Course this fall will be seen by Israelis as a great act of support and will go a long way toward assisting in the healing process. Students’ positive and compassionate energy, openness and desire to give something to Israel will be deeply valued. No less significant, I believe, is what it will do for the students themselves, since they will have the chance to experience Israel over a long period of time in many different ways and locations. They will speak and interact with Israel and Israelis and will, no doubt be strengthened and challenged. They will see, in an adult fashion, the value of Israel, the resilience of her people and the strength of her culture to deal with the every day and extraordinary circumstance of life here.

In 1973, a group of Year Course graduates refused to abandon Israel or their commitment to their Jewish and Zionist principals in the face of a devastating and debilitating war. They went on to found Kibbutz Ketura in Israel’s southern desert, an enterprise that thrives and reflects all that is most valuable to our movement and people. Who knows what creative and effective response the Year Course graduates of 2014-15 will create in the wake of Operation Protective Edge? Who knows how they will contribute to the growth of the Jewish people and to the ideals that we strive to live up to? I, for one, look forward to being there to help launch their potential, guide them as they discover their power and challenge them to help build a better future for us all.

Jamie Smith of Lexington, Kentucky, is a rising Junior at Henry Clay High School and one of two Leaders of Tomorrow Awards from Hadassah, which awards a full scholarship to  young women to travel to Israel with Young Judaea’s teen summer programs.  She was introduced to Hadassah through her mother who is a past president of their local chapter. As one of only three Jewish students at her school, Jamie was excited about her opportunity to join Young Judaea’s ‘Discovery’ tour  to “explore her Judaism in the context of Israel and meet other Jewish teens who are leaders in their communities.”

I’ve been home for a while now – school has started, as will swimming soon – and my life has descended back into its usual chaotic routine, but I am not the same. Everything seems so unreal now, because for me, Israel was reality. I feel like I should be devoting all my time to advocating for Israel, but instead I spend every day sitting in a classroom learning material that seems of little importance compared to the war and conflict raging in the Middle East. I chat with my friends about homework and favorite teachers, but I constantly check my phone for the latest news about tunnels and cease fire proposals. My life and daily routine has taken on a new sense of smallness, its problems paling in comparison to those halfway around the world.

So I guess you could say my relationship to Israel has changed. Most importantly, I understand what’s going on. That had always been my biggest barrier in the past- I knew the general everyone-hates-Israel idea, but I wasn’t informed about the specifics of each operation, or what had happened to break each attempt at a cease fire. I didn’t know how many rockets were being fired a day; I didn’t know the casualty counts from both sides, it just seemed so far removed from me that I didn’t bother spending time looking it up. That has changed. Now I care so much more than I used to about the safety of Israel. Near the end of the trip, my friends and I were talking about if we wanted to serve in the army. No one really wanted to, but we all agreed that if we served in an army it would be the IDF, not the United States army. It was an easy question to answer for all of us.

I miss Israel, and I do really want to go back. One of the main things I miss, though, is my friends. The bonds I developed in just a month are stronger than many of those I have here in Lexington, where I have lived my whole life. We have all been making every effort to see each other- planning college visits in cities where our friends live, visiting family near these cities-everything we can do to be close enough to see each other just for a little while. The amazing thing is that I know that if I need somewhere to stay in another city or town, I will always be able to find a friend who can help me out. Whether its New York, LA, Boston, or any other number of places around the country, there will be a familiar face there to greet me. Its so cool that I can say that I have friends from around the country- and even from a few other countries. The entire trip was an amazing opportunity to make friends that will last a lifetime.

Nitzachon impacted my life in so many ways, and I made memories that I will never forget. I love and care about Israel so much now, and I have tons of new friends who I know I will find a way to see again. I am so thankful to have had this opportunity to experience Israel in ways I never imagined. Though we didn’t get to see all of Israel, we really did have a true Israeli experience- probably even more so than we would have without the war. Even with all that ignored, I really will never forget my first time overseas, spent in a country I love with people I love.

Naomi Farahan of Carmel, Indiana, is a rising senior at University High School.  She is the founder and editor in chief of the U Post – her high school’s online publication, president of the Young Democrats Club and participates in a number of other activities.  Naomi has a close connection to Israel and has always been an advocate for the country.  This summer, she is traveling Israel with Young Judaea’s Discovery program, after receiving theHadassah Leaders of Tomorrow Award. This highly selective merit-based award gives two high school women the opportunity to receive full tuition for a four-week Young Judaea Teen Summer Program in Israel. 

It’s two in the morning in Carmel, Indiana. I can’t sleep. I’ve been home for more than a week now, avoiding this final blog post like the plague. Writing this means that our trip is finally over, and deep inside I know that I cannot fully capture what this summer meant to me. I can name my favorite sights, and I can tell you about the funniest moments. We can sit for coffee and I can say, as I have said countless times, that I have been moved and changed. I can explain that rather than become a different person, I became a better defined version of myself. But I cannot really put these feelings into words. This is my best attempt.

I have always been proud of my Judaism. My religion has never held me back. But before this trip, I wasn’t quite sure what being Jewish meant to me. It was passed on by my parents, and it was something I wanted to continue for the sake of my children. But I wasn’t sure why. This summer, I connected to parts of myself that I can’t quite name. I guess I call that religion. This does not mean that I returned home observing more Mitzvot, but I do feel more Jewish regardless. My friends on the trip felt the same way, as if this spirituality had awoken in us. My Jewish identity no longer exists because it’s expected of me, but because I experience it. Because I breathe it and because I feel it in everything that I do.

Those friends that I mentioned were the same ones I talked about in my very first blog. I was nervous to meet them, remember? Looking back, I had every reason to be. My life will never be the same. Every friend that I made is important to me for a different reason. I learned something new from everyone that I came across. I feel exceedingly blessed to have spent five weeks with some of the most incredible people I have ever met. We came into each other’s lives very quickly, and I hope we never leave. I know that I will never forget how they made me feel. Those things just don’t go away.

For several days after I got home, my eyes were glued to the television screen. Back in the States I feel so removed from the situation in Israel. Everyone welcomed me back with open arms, exclaiming, “You must have been so scared!” All the while, I just want to go back to Israel. I just want to go back home. I now have a much better grasp of what Zionism means to me. No matter where I am, what I’m doing, Israel is my home. As a part of the Nitzachon program, I gained the proper tools to speak out as an advocate for my home. I am a more realistic, knowledgeable ambassador for Israel.

I feel inclined to be honest here. I have realized that I am incredibly self-centered. Perhaps it’s ingrained in our “Selfie Culture,” and maybe it’s just me. But now when I watch the news, I know that there is so much more to the story. This leads to me to wonder about the millions of other stories that are happening in the world right now that I am unaware of, and suddenly my problems are so small. I have spent so much time worrying about my next step and my own future, when there are so many next steps and futures that I have not taken the time to learn about.

But none of this makes me feel small or insignificant. More than ever, I intend to harness my skills and become a leader that speaks out for Israel. None of us are small. It’s not that at all. All of our perspectives add up to be something very big, and I hope to shape someone’s perspective someday. The Nitzachon program has certainly shaped mine.

Thank you to everyone who reads these blogs. I really enjoyed sharing my summer with you. Most importantly, thank you to Young Judaea and Hadassah for such an important journey. I will carry this experience with me for the rest of my life.

Naomi Farahan of Carmel, Indiana, is a rising senior at University High School.  She is the founder and editor in chief of the U Post – her high school’s online publication, president of the Young Democrats Club and participates in a number of other activities.  Naomi has a close connection to Israel and has always been an advocate for the country.  This summer, she is traveling Israel with Young Judaea’s Discovery program, after receiving theHadassah Leaders of Tomorrow Award. This highly selective merit-based award gives two high school women the opportunity to receive full tuition for a four-week Young Judaea Teen Summer Program in Israel.  

Now that I’m back home, I feel the full force of Nitzachon’s impact. I’m a different person –  I feel it in the way I talk to people, in the way I take in my surroundings. I have grown. One of the most formative aspects of this summer was Special Interest Week.

During Special Interest Week, you are apart from your tour for four days. During this time, you join kids from other groups who have similar interests. I had the option to participate in “Gadna” army training, a “Sea-to-Sea” hike in the Galilee, and scuba diving,  but ultimately chose Tikun Olam volunteering.  These were four of the most important days of my summer.

The first community service opportunity was in a center for adults with Cerebral Palsy. This taught us about the power of body language. We spent much of our time touching hands, smiling, and singing songs. At one point that morning, my friend Dani and I caught each other laughing mindlessly, but we didn’t feel embarrassed. It wasn’t mocking or uncomfortable laughter, instead it was that the center’s members were so full of glee that it spilled over to us, making us giggle and smile. They were constantly radiating pure, genuine – and contagious – smiles. We learned from there honesty and joy.

That afternoon, we volunteered at an old age home. We were able to learn stories about the members’ childhoods as we went with them outdoors. We reminded them of their grandchildren. They reminded of us our grandparents back in the United States. We felt connected to one another on an individual level, showing how community service can help both those being served and those serving.  This is one reason that community service is a crucial part of society. We are all connected therefore we must support one another.

The next day, we collected food and money for IDF soldiers in Gaza. We got as much as we put in. The harder we worked, the more we asked, the more people were willing to contribute. In some small way, we felt like we were contributing to the men and women who were giving so much to keep us alive.

For the last two days of our special interest week, we worked with a project through UJIA called the Ethiopian Bar/Bat Mitzvah Program. This allows Ethiopian children and British children to experience the milestone of becoming Bnai mitzvah side-by-side. As a part of the Tikun Olam program, we tried to add ruach, spirit, to the occasion by singing, dancing, and joining the celebration.

Throughout the week, I kept wondering about the purpose of volunteering. Who does it actually benefit? The adults with Cerebral Palsy see new volunteers every day. I am part of the masses of people who have come to paint and sing with them. I was one of many at the Ethiopian Bnai Mitzvah. In reality, community service benefits both parties in similar ways. I was touched in ways that are bigger than words, more profound than I can express in this blog.

During this week, there were so many people who opened their arms to me. They allowed me into their lives so that we could share a few moments of human connection disguised as service. In reality, I was not helping them. Rather, I was given the chance to look into myself and reflect upon what it means to be alive. I learned something that, theoretically, I should have known all along. Life is to be celebrated. There is so much to smile about. It should not be a rare thing to catch one another laughing. In addition, community service should not be an activity kept apart from our daily lives. It should be a part of our joyousness, a part of how we relate to one another. For these realizations, I am forever grateful to the Young Judaea Nitzachon program.

Mes dos. He visto kipás, máscaras y más gatos de los que podría imaginar.

Mientras el verano israelí de a poco se deja entrever,  los gatos que llenan las calles de Tel Aviv, como ardillas -o ratas- harían en otras ciudades, dejan de dormir sobre los capots aún tibios por los motores y se mudan a los techos de los mismos autos, un tanto más frescos. Yo, aún esperando un clima más propicio para aprovechar la muy cercana playa, me sigo adaptando a este mundo siempre cambiante.

Esta ciudad dista de ser una ciudad europea o de primer mundo. Si uno escapa de las calles amplias, hermosas y genéricas de la parte adinerada y turística, adentrándose en lo que algunos llaman el ‘verdadero Tel-Aviv’, se puede encontrar edificios despintados y mal mantenidos, calles algo sucias y negocios que no distan mucho de ser simples huecos en un muro. Pero la sensación tampoco es la de un pueblo en el medio oriente, ni la de estar sumido en ‘el tercer mundo’. Hay algo atractivo en su malestar. La intermitencia entre el constante crecimiento de edificios nuevos y los viejos viniéndose a menos, entre la gente comiendo falafel en las veredas y los cientos de cafés que invitan a pasar, entre la calles minadas por los excrementos de los millones de perros mascota y las plazas o parques meticulosamente cuidados. La gente, tan agresiva y frontal pero a la vez tan agradable y amistosa, ayuda a sobrellevar la extranjería. No puedo evitar lentamente enamorarme de este lugar. Y cuando el acento hebreo satura los oídos, siempre hay alguna actividad en inglés -u otro idioma de preferencia- en la cual resguardarse. Actividades que parecieran no acabarse. Como es el caso ahora de Purim.

Desde hace dos semanas se volvió habitual encontrarse a toda hora y en cualquier lugar a alguien con una peluca, una máscara o un traje entero de una sola pieza de Pikachu, caminando por la calle y realizando sus tareas con total normalidad. Purim, una festividad comparable con el carnaval, llenó las calles de anticipación por lo que sería un fin de semana plagado de fiestas en bares, clubs y en las calles, desfiles, música y, sobre todo, disfraces. Desapegándose cada vez más de sus orígenes y volcándose a las celebraciones, Purim parece ser una de las celebraciones favoritas de los jóvenes israelíes -y de aquellos que tienen la oportunidad de estar aquí durante- y con mucha razón.

Mientras tanto entrevistas laborales aparentemente exitosas, que resultaron no serlo, y repetidas ocasiones que demostraron que en Israel responder mails y llamadas no es prioridad primera, dejaron pasar más de un mes desde mi llegada a Tel Aviv y la situación de mi pasantía seguía sin resolverse. Pero a pesar de las complicaciones y las decepciones, con un poco de esfuerzo y tomando la situación en mis manos, finalmente tuve mi primer día de trabajo. El lugar no es ideal, pero trabajaré para sacar el mejor provecho posible.

Y mientras Ulpan continúa, poco a poco voy incorporando el hebreo y comienzo a ser capaz de entender diálogos sencillos en el día a día. Indudablemente no hay mejor contexto para aprender que la necesidad, como lo es estar rodeado de carteles que me resultaban ilegibles. Ahora, en cambio, al menos puedo encontrar falafel sin mayor esfuerzo. También continúan las otras actividades incluidas en el programa. Con el grupo de arte asistimos a museos, galerías y a una histórica casa de fotografía y con el resto del programa continuamos con las excursiones optativas cada semana.

Con el día a día, los problemas, la rutina, las novedades, siento que el concepto de lo que este viaje sería se aleja, para dejar de ser un concepto, dejar de ser una fantasía, un ideal. Y siendo honesto, la realidad siempre me resultó más interesante.