I've been back a month and it's about time to write down my experience of the United Jewish Communities Solidarity Mission to Israel and encourage others to follow down that well worn path. I was one of 470 Americans, including three from Santa Cruz, who were on the December 2 - 9 trip. The UJC boldly sponsors extremely well organized trips to Israel every month. Ours was one of the largest. There were several heinous acts of terrorism in Israel the day before we left. My parents, whom I visited in New Jersey before embarking for Israel, pleaded with me not to go, but canceling my trip was unthinkable. It turned out I was not alone. Practically nobody canceled.

We descended on the Inbal Hotel in Jerusalem on the afternoon of December 3. There were so many Americans on this Mission that the Inbal could not accommodate everyone. The overflow was quartered at the King David Hotel, just up the street. I took a stroll over there on a rare free hour and decided that's where I want to stay next time! But worry not, the Inbal is no Motel Six. The rooms were comfortable; the lobby was a spacious place to meet up with other people; the dining room served too much excellent food, banquet style; there was an indoor swimming pool, a gym, some interesting gift shops. And a lot of soldiers. They weren't mostly in the hotel, but around it. Especially around the buses. The Inbal is in walking distance to the Old City of Jerusalem, and only a half-mile from Ben Yehuda Street, the pedestrian mall where two terrorists had blown themselves up two nights before we arrived.

That first night I joined six men from Cincinnati, including Rabbi Irvin Wise from Congregation Adath Israel (who told me he visited Santa Cruz and Kol Tefillah about five years ago) for a walk up to Ben Yehuda Street. We stopped on the way at a hole-in-the-wall kipa shop, "The Kipa Man", where we had to take turns, two at a time, to enter and choose from the largest selection of kipas I have ever seen, in the smallest place you could imagine.

Ben Yehuda Street was a furious construction zone. A blown up section of the street was being rapidly replaced. All the stores save those that took a direct hit were open for business. All the debris from the recent mayhem had been swept away and in its place stood several tables, covered with flowers and hundreds and hundreds of candles. There were not many pedestrians but people were milling around the tables. And there was a reporter.

I forget his name, but that's only because I don't watch TV. He was a well-dressed, handsome, articulate man from MSNBC. What a strange sight to watch: continuous live broadcasts on international television. It was as if we were watching a play! Two minute sound bites, seemingly candid and spontaneous, were thoroughly scripted, with the real life scene of the site of a terrorist bombing as a backdrop. "As we speak AMERICAN MADE F-16's bombing Palestinian targets..." We talked with him between segments. "Aren't your families concerned you're here?" he asked us. "Isn't yours?" I replied. But I knew his family had nothing to worry about. "Would you all like to be on my next segment?" We were.

"Hi, Mom!"

It was cold in Jerusalem. We walked briskly back to the hotel, passing a couple on the way. There is suspicion on the streets now, but upon hearing English the man asked us where we were from. America? How many? Instantly a smile appeared and the suspicion turned to gratitude. The gratitude Israelis expressed toward us every day and everywhere, for being brave, for coming to visit in a time when there are no tourists, for coming to hear their stories, is one of the reasons we should all go. It's rare to find oneself so thoroughly appreciated for doing what's necessary.

Avraham Burg, the speaker of the Knesset, came to speak with us the first night. He's from the Labor Party, and an optimist. He told us a funny imaginary conversation he has with his bubbe: "In 2001 would you believe, Bubbe?"

Dan Meridor, a member of the Likud Party and one of the negotiators at Camp David in 2000, spoke with us on the second night. Natan Scharansky was our guest for the third and final programmed evening. He's very short and speaks English with a thick Russian/Hebrew accent. Something he said stuck in my mind. He told us he was opposed to the Oslo Accords from the start. Not because he was opposed to peace with the Arabs. It's just that, in his opinion, an agreement made with an autocrat (a dictator, if you will) is no agreement at all.

We met a sergeant in the Israeli Defense Forces. He was not a politician, nor was his English outstanding. He fumbled for words. He was probably our most moving speaker. His dedication, his professionalism and compassion were all clearly evident in his speech and demeanor.

The UJC funds many different social service projects and programs in Israel. In small groups we took tours of some of these facilities. Israel is a society under stress of isolation, ostracism, and war. In these circumstances those who struggle to take care of themselves -- the immigrant, the handicapped, the elderly, the infirm -- can easily be neglected. In a myriad of compelling ways we witnessed how the UJC supports Israelis in caring for each other.

Arnold and Marge Huberman, members of Temple Beth-El, and I spent the final day of our mission in the desert town of Dimona, guests of Esther Suissa, the People-to-People Coordinator for the Jewish Agency. Dimona might ring a bell as the site where Israel has its nuclear facility. However Esther, in her wonderfully competent and sincere English accent informed us that Dimona is a poor immigrant town, lacking in jobs, culture, and hope. We listened to a classroom of adults immigrants, learning Hebrew. Their greatest concern is that when their ‘basket' of benefits runs out (two years worth of free education and subsidized food and housing) they will not be able to find jobs, and will lose even the basic apartments and arrangements they have put together so far.

We talked with students, young and old, ambitious all (pre-selected I must add), who despaired of living in Dimona, where there is no movie theater for a town of 40,000 people, and where the opportunity to do something worthwhile after (or even during) high school seems very limited. Esther and the teenagers were touching. I wondered, do we in Santa Cruz have nothing to offer these young people who yearn to enrich their community and their nation? I love the desert. I asked about the desert. Did they ever go out exploring? It used to be some guys from the army would come down and take them out. Not lately.

I am a furious optimist: furious at the Arabs who so unanimously preach anti-Semitism in its crudest forms (and grateful toward the few who buck the tide); furious at the Europeans who tolerate the intolerance now that, for the first time in a millennia, it's not all theirs; furious at the lost-in-space Jews on the fringe of America who mistake Ariel Sharon for Judaism and say they want none of it.

I'm optimistic we can get twenty people from Santa Cruz on the April 21st Solidarity Mission to Israel. Optimistic that we can do something for the immigrants and the kids in Dimona because there is a lot of money and there are a lot of good people in this town who'd sieze the chance to make a significant tangible contribution to Israel if they only knew how. Optimistic because I am, because I believe that Jews have as much a right to Israel as any people on earth have to any place on earth, maybe more, because we have remembered so long and tried so hard, and its ours.