Walking from the Past

     I wish I could have videotaped every second of today and yesterday. In addition, the day before yesterday in Tel-Aviv was wonderful too. In Tel-Aviv, we went to a museum that was about seeing in the dark, and is often referred to as the "blind museum." While our guide was blind, it was in the pitch black, and it was all about using everything but your sight, our introduction to the tunnels of rooms and different scenes was supposed to help us enhance our other senses such as feeling and taste in addition to smell and sound. It was such an amazing museum to go to. After, we went to the beach. The lovely, sandy, gorgeous sun and water, Tel-Aviv beach. I ran to the water and only put my ankles in, and than walked over to my towel and fell asleep. I woke up to a burnt stomach that I didn't even notice until later that night, ironically only after making fun of my friend for getting burned and then she pointed it out to me. But, it was so much fun, and by the end of our three hours at the beach, I had walked across the shore-line and ran into the waves drenching myself a couple of times. After this, my group went to Shanken Street were we all finished up our gift shopping and had a really nice time strolling up and down the street through the shops. Going home, was a nice long bus ride where I fell asleep, but the one thing that kept replaying in my mind was when I was ankles in the Mediterranean Sea, talking to my roommate, Lis, commenting how beautiful it was, and how beautiful all of Israel was, and how I was extremely saddened by the thought that this was potentially my last time standing at that very spot, looking at the sparkling waters and the colourful buildings, for a few years. I can't describe the feeling, but she understood, and I think all of EIE understood. It was heartbreaking to know this was the last time some of us might be here in a very long time. Heartbreaking, seems like the right description. It was just, just both an empowering and weakening moment.

     Fast forwarding to the following night, which is now last night, became a story and a memory to be held fast to my thoughts. Yesterday started Shavuot, the holiday in which we offered our first fruits of our fields to Gd, in addition read the story of Ruth, and additionally when we received the giving of the Torah to the Jewish people. First, we went to the Kibbutz festival were they put on skits and performed songs and EIE did a dance! I was really proud of my peers. We then went to the Belmont and did a two hour program which was intriguing. We learned about the story of Ruth and how the giving of the torah could also be a metaphor after farming had decreased among Urban Jews centuries ago. The program ended and then it was midnight. At midnight, there was an optional study in the Zula, which I of course took the opportunity to go to. As I sat down, I realized it wasn't studying but more of a bonding. We talked about revelations we got on EIE, as a connection with the revelation of Torah at Mount Sinai. It was nice. Really, here is where I started to realize how I have changed, and the impact EIE has made on me. Then, at 2am I had to leave to meet up with all of Gadid for an activity. We ended up going to the Tel and not only did we get all of the apparel for our group (which I designed and drew) but we climbed to the top and laid down on a roof of an ancient building. Here, under the innumerable stars, and on our history, we shared our experiences together. I said something I was surprised at. Laying down, a lot of people spoke before me, and I had an idea of what I wanted to say, but it came to me and words flowed out of my mouth that I couldn't even fully comprehend. To the best of my memory I said something along the lines of: "I appreciate this program so much more. I think Yam L'Yam was the biggest impact on me. We got to be with nature and experience the Eretz of Israel, and made me feel so connected. But, as many of you know, the last night of Yam L'Yam I got pretty crappy news. And I mean, I don't want this to be morbid, but it made me think. We are hear living an incredible life, but likewise time doesn't just stop. We are going home and time hasn't stopped, and everyone is... carrying on. I want to make Israel my home so badly, but once we go back, life hasn't stopped." When I said I didn't fully understand what I was saying, I realized it later in the day, today. I'll go into it a bit later, but this is a revelation I had this morning at 3am in the morning. At almost 4am we were all done and we seemed to have bonded on a whole other level once again. Then, as it was ten to 4am and it wrapped up. A few of us who had signed up for an experience dashed to our rooms to drop off our things and change into white. Within minutes, we were on buses headed to the old city. We were going to the Kotel. As we arrived, it was approaching 5:30 and we watched the sky turn to red outside the gates. We got inside, and the reds turned to pink. We heard a short little intro by the leader of our adventure, and then I separated from the group at the closest possible second and entered the Western Wall Plaza. Here I was at the Kotel watching the sunrise with thousands of people. It took a half an hour to weave and push my way through the crowd and there I was. I was touching the wall. I had made my first pilgrimage to the wall. Shavuot is one of three pilgrimage holidays, and here I was. I can't explain the feeling I got. Was it pride? Excitement? I can't tell you, but I was overwhelmed with this feeling of being apart of a true people. Being Jewish as a Nation rather than a mere religion. Here, is where I think I had abandoned my America. I was now Jewish. Just simply Jewish. I came back home, to the kibbutz, at 6am and passed out. All night up being apart of my people, I was experiencing my history. I was walking from my past, I was walking the same steps as my ancestors into the future. Additionally, I was walking my own path, maybe it was away from my personal past, but it was with my head held high. 

Now, to connect my major ideas of the long day, I was talking to my parents and I was so excited to tell them about my morning. I was so excited to hear their voices because I miss them so dearly. Family has never felt more important to me ever than recently. But, I realized something very, very... I'll explain. I asked them if I could go with my friend and her sister to another kibbutz to celebrate Shavuot.  After living in on my own for four full months, given freedom to go to a huge concert in Tel-Aviv on the program, allowed to go to the Kotel with thousands of people allowed to explore by myself at 4am, given all this freedom (and responsibility) I figured my parents were just going to say yes and send an e-mail giving me permission to go with them. Never did I think my parents who have sent me to live virtually independently, to let me grow up and experience this life, would have said no to going to a safe kibbutz with people I trust. I didn't get it at first. No? Then, once we hung up, with me wanting to cry because of frustration, I finally got it! I got what I was talking about at 3am a few hours earlier. Time doesn't stop. My parents were concerned for me, and they care about my safety and health. They didn't know my friend or her sister, and while I have been allowed to go to places much more dangerous and what-not, I just got it. I have been growing and changing here. While I haven't felt it, because everyone around me has been going through the same growth and experiences, my parents only remember me as the 15 year-old girl who left them in January. I don't blame them; life continues on. In fact, it was a great feeling to know they care so much about me, but also, I realize I left a somewhat immature, somewhat irresponsible, carefree 15 year old American. Today, I sit here realizing I have matured, I have learned what true responsibility is, and now I'm a 16 year old Jew. Simply put, "We are hear living an incredible life, but likewise time doesn't just stop. We are going home and time hasn't stopped, and everyone is... carrying on." 

When I return to the States, my greatest fear, which I am ready to admit to the world, and to myself is my family. I don't want to disappoint them. I don't want to be labeled as a product of brainwashing. I don't want to be compared to my older brother who has found his own way, but no one could understand how he got there... he just mysteriously changed (in my opinion). I have learned about my history. I started out saying "the Jewish people" and "them" or "they." During my AP European Exam, it wasn't "them" it was "us, I, we." I have become apart of a bigger picture. When I go home, friends will either accept me or reject me, but my family is my everything and I don't want to go home to another label or have to figure out an excuse as to why I am who I am. Time didn't stop, and while it is going to take adjustments for me, it is going to be a huge adjustment for everyone who knew me before. For everyone who I loved before, they are going to have to adjust, and I am terrified of what this could imply. And while this might be a terrible transition, I have stated what has been on my mind for weeks now, and now I have stated that, I'll continue with today.

I woke up at 10am, with 4 hours or so of sleep and made my way to the Belmont for Shavuot services. It was nice, but I was exaughisted and mentally, I was very pensive. I was thinking about all I wrote previously. I made my way to lunch, and then the day started to fade. I went to the pool that opened, and I then made my way to my room and changed for Shabbat services. The last thing I wanted to do was MORE services, but I went and I would have never believed it, but these services were th most moving for me. So much uplifting singing, the hour (maybe two?) service seemed like minutes. I sang a bit, and trying to organize my thoughts for this blog and for my person. I have written what I was thinking all day, and it's funny how this was all TODAY. It might be the next day at 2:30 am, on a technicality, but today was just wow. I wrapped up the day by going to another group bonding thing at 9:30. We did hilarious charades which with no words, said everything about our group and experience. We than did a thing that tried to characterize our personality and ole within our group. We finished it off by going to a room. 40 of us in a room half the size of what I call my room in America (to give you an idea) and well, we got back our "goals" from the first week. I read it and laughed. I had accomplished all of them. Some of them were simple like make friends and get good grades. Others where meaningful like get along with Rachel, my sister, and have the time of my life. Every single one was accomplished. I felt like the experiences here have changed me, and molded me, and seeing this list, made me into a better person. I left the room, when for a walk with Josh, who for those who don't know I have known him since I was little and consider him to be a brother. This trip has made us so close I cannot even say, but we talked about all of this, about what I said here, and about even more which novels could be written on. Than, it was curfew, 1am, and here I sit still writing at now 2:46am. 

     Today, I have really, truly, come to see what this trip has meant for me. I was frustrated with the logistics of the program (like rules and such), but I really know that what I got out of these four months is incomprehensible. I have walked from the past. I am a new person as an individual, but also, I have walked with my people on this journey, and coming out of the land of Israel I'm not only walking away from my home, I'm walking away from my 4,000 year old past.