Undergraduate / In Israel I found a type of spirituality and gratefulness that has remained with me to this day [5]

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I am not a typical Israeli-American. I'm not fluent in Hebrew, I hate Israeli dancing and I can't pronounce the 'r' in my own name properly. That's why the experience I am about to describe snuck up and startled me to the bones. I traveled to Israel with my friends on a youth trip during the summer. It wasn't my first visit but reflecting back on all of them I had never felt moved by my physical presence in the country of Israel. I didn't feel that instant connection many claim to have once in the country. To me it was just a distant country. We visited the Western Wall during the first week and I walked into the women's section wearing black skirt to my ankles. I felt awkward and sweaty standing 10 feet from the wall surrounded by women bending and bowing completely consumed by their prayers. I scanned my brain; did I remember any prayers from my Sunday school days? I wasn't sure, but there was a small spot that had opened up at the wall. I squirmed through the cluster and placed my palms on the wall. Unsure what to do, I looked to my left as a woman wiped her tears onto the stones. It was a forceful experience, I felt forced to close my eyes and say a prayer. I felt the lies crawling under my skin. No one would know what I did at the wall, but the pressure made me pray. I seemed utterly crazy to myself as I walked backwards as far as I could before racing to pull off the skirt turned sauna.

I later discussed with my friend on his purpose in Israel. He thought, maybe, he could find himself here. He thought he could discover what he believed in and stood for. I, on the other hand, just wanted to spend time with my friends and family. It's a funny thought looking back on how unaware I was of the affects my travels had on me. When I visited the cemeteries and memorials, I thought I was just tired, hot and bored. When I saw the port of Haifa, I thought I was just attempting at better wifi connection. When I walked the streets of Tzfat, the Mystical City, I thought I was just exploring, but these events impacted me on a different level. I visited the Western Wall a second time on a Shabbat evening. The sun had already set so I didn't feel sweaty this time. I walked up to the wall, again, having no idea what I was going to do. I placed both palms on the wall and just broke down into thank yous. Not to god, not to anything or being in particular. I did not know who I was thanking, but I knew it was necessary and I couldn't stop. I needed to thank someone for my grandparents survival during the Holocaust. I needed to thank someone because they had a place to go a

After being stripped of a home. I needed to thank someone for all the people laying in the cemeteries who knew what they believed in and what they stood for. For the people willing to give their life for our right to a home. It seemed so incredibly indescribable all at once. I could not envision or empathize in any way. I just continued to thank into the universe for the land of Israel and my opportunity to be a part of it.

My friend did not find any secret part of himself waiting to be discovered. That's the ironic part. Although I will always consider the United States as my home, I found a type of spirituality and gratefulness that has remained with me to this day. A new found pride and responsibility in the country in which I reside, and for my 'other' home country where I know I will always be welcomed.