First Hand Accounts

San Francisco

As I am writing this, I am sitting in an immigrant absorption center 10 kilometers from the Gaza Strip. Outside, children are chasing each other around, shouting to each other in languages that I understand either barely (Hebrew) or not at all (Amharic, Turkish, Spanish, and many others). With the 17 other North Americans who have ventured, against the advice of many relatives and friends, into what some consider a danger zone, I am far away from everything familiar and safe. Yet here I am, and Israel feels like home.

I thought that I knew what I was getting myself into. While growing up in Dallas/Fort Worth, I went to a Jewish summer camp with cabins named after Israeli cities, listened to Israeli speakers at BBYO conventions, and prayed for the safety of Israeli citizens in synagogue. After moving to the San Francisco Bay Area for college, I was active in the Jewish community, planning activities as an intern at Hillel and using information gained from a student activist tour of Israel to respond to the wash of misinformation that every campus faces. I even interned for AIPAC one summer, and maintained my ties to the pro-Israel community as I began my career after college.

But always in the back of my mind was this, the chance to spend a significant amount of time living with Israelis. I came despite the daily CNN video because I want to explore my connections to this country; not so much to the holy places, as with the vast diversity of the Jewish people and our national homeland. I have found many stories and many families hidden behind that TV screen, and am the richer for it. A few images you won't see on the evening news:

• Erev Shabbat on the Promenade in Jerusalem's Talpiot neighborhood, revealing a spectacular view of the Old City at sunset. The line of JNF-planted trees in the valley clearly marks the division between West and East Jerusalem as a group of young Arab men and women play soccer in the grass below.
• Entering the absorption center in Ashkelon to swarms of children, Ethiopian, South American, and many others, racing in circles. Their parents sit on the benches in the courtyard or squat in the grassy area between the apartment buildings.
• Morning at the absorption center, as semi-orderly groups of children set off for school and adults leave for ulpan. Some of them have been in the country less than three weeks.
• Shopping in the center at Bilu Junction on Friday morning. Many familiar names are in sight like Office Depot, but the man who just exited Toys R Us wears a kippa and has fringes trailing from under his shirt.
• A seven-year-old girl shouting to her father to watch as she skates down the street in their quiet neighborhood in Lod.
• Sitting outdoors at a coffee shop after dark. Young people flirt and chatter to each other. Occasionally, someone peers nervously up and down the street, but then is interrupted by a cell phone call or amusing comment from a friend.

My biggest surprise upon my arrival here was the surplus of normal life that Israelis have managed to carve for themselves despite their challenges. I am here to volunteer and contribute to the society, but also have found myself constantly learning from these people, their resilience, openness, abrasiveness, hypocrisies and prejudices, dedication to family, and recklessness on the highway. The intensity of life here is difficult, but it has remade a nation out of far-flung and disparate tribes. We in the Diaspora have a responsibility to support Israel, but also to draw from it to enrich ourselves. What is keeping you?

Israel has always been an important country, location and ideal in my mind. From learning about the stories of our matriarchs and patriarchs throughout the Holy Land in Hebrew School, to the intensity of the Gulf War, the fond memories from my previous two tours to this special place to the intriguing dynamics of the political situation. As I was finishing my final year at Florida State University, in an intensive program, I decided to take a year off from all the internships, extracurricular activities and classes. Instead, I wanted to see the world, a longtime dream of mine. I started with six and a half weeks throughout Europe, and then decided on Project OTZMA, for the amazing experiences the brochures promised, all which seem to come through.

I was a little nervous about coming to Israel during the current matzav, as were my parents. However, I never doubted my decision, and neither did my family try to convince me not to come. In fact, I believe my parents are probably less nervous that I am here, than if I were to have moved to NYC this year. In some ways being in Israel makes the situation here more intense, but in some ways, it was scarier being in the States, because you never knew what to believe. It is sad that in the matzav is hindering some of my traveling plans for the year, but it is nothing permanent.

I am taking my time here to get a feel for the matzav, and to develop my personal feelings about the activities. At the same time, as I have always said, that no matter where you are in life, and what you are doing, there is always that possibility that "something" might happen, and there is no sense in living in fear of something that is very well inevitable. To me, being scared of the situation, and not going to Israel, would be giving into the violence, and not helping it. I am excited to spend my year volunteering and living throughout this amazing and dynamic country, discovering its many different facets and I have no doubts in the decision I have made to participate in Project OTZMA.

I feel good being in Israel. Before I came here, people asked me why I would want to come to a place like Israel, especially at a time like this. I have answered that question in my own mind so many times that I no longer doubt the decision. But a few months ago, I was not so confident. Now that I am here, I remember the things that gave me the idea to look into Project OTZMA in the first place. I wanted to volunteer, I wanted to travel, I wanted to learn another language and experience a different culture. I found out about OTZMA-Atidim, and became even surer that this was the right place for me because it would give me the opportunity to use math and science, which I studied in college. Throughout the year last year, it scared me to see Israel make the headlines so often. But I came anyway.

So I'm here, and I feel good. It is stressful to hear the news of continued violence and to see Israelis losing hope in the peace process. On the other hand, it is exciting to meet the people with whom I will be working and to realize the kind of work I will do with them. I am doing important work here, and it makes me happy to know that it has nothing to do with violence or terror. The work that I am doing has to do with strengthening communities. I am working with people who are part of families and who have interesting stories to tell. I am working with students who want to learn, and I would like to help them do that.

Living in Ashkelon on the merkaz klitah, I do not feel the tension that people automatically equate with the Middle East. I feel the energy of children playing. I feel the anxiety of learning a new language so that I can finally sit with the women that live here and learn a little about them. I feel the beauty of a place that is walking distance from the beach, and just a short drive from a desert or a mountain or a cave. I feel the comfort of knowing that although everyone comes from different religious backgrounds, there are many people here who understand what makes being Jewish important to me. Also, I feel lucky to be a part of 17 other OTZMAnikim who are all interesting, intelligent people with fascinating histories, including strong and diverse connections to Israel and Judaism. I am excited to be able to learn from them and share my experiences with them.

I came here with anxieties, but more than that, I came here with a purpose. I have skills and energy and time to give, and I am choosing to share that with the people of Israel.