My first trip to Israel, was for me, a first for many other things as well. It was the first time I had ever left the country. The first time I had ever traveled alone. It was also the first time that I ever spent a week with complete strangers in a place where I didn’t know a single person.
Yet on the day I left Israel, as my luggage was unloaded from our little tour van one last time, and my tour guide, Ora, walked me into Ben Gurion Airport for my return flight, I had tears in my eyes. I was thankful I was wearing sunglasses so no one else could see.
I can’t really explain what the emotion was that I felt in the last moments before I boarded the plane. Just the night before I had happily stayed up until 2 a.m. reorganizing and packing up my suitcase, excited to be returning home after a nonstop week of activity.
I think the feeling began earlier that final evening. That night, there was a huge music festival along the beach of the Mediterranean right outside our hotel in Tel Aviv. I was scheduled to have dinner with another American journalist and Ari Marom, the director of North American Operations for the Ministry of Tourism, at a restaurant down the street.
I couldn’t wait for dinner to end so I could go and join the crowd along the beach. I just wanted some time to explore on my own and not think about rushing on to the next site on the itinerary.
When the editor of The Chronicle first asked me if I would be interested in going on this trip, which was sponsored by the Israel Ministry of Tourism for several Jewish newspapers across the country, in hopes to increase the number of tourists from the U.S. to Israel, I have to admit I was slightly apprehensive.
I wasn’t sure that I wanted to go alone, but I quickly talked myself out of my doubts. How many times in my life would I get randomly invited to tour another country? To stay in the best hotels and eat at the most delicious restaurants in Israel, all expenses paid?
When I took my position at The Chronicle, it was because I wanted to be able to experience different things and meet new people through my job, and this trip fit perfectly into that plan.
Along on the tour were a freelance writer from California and a staff writer from the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent. We were driven around in a van, with our guide, Ora Shlesinger, who seemed to know every name, date and fact associated with the many sites we packed into the mere five days we had available for sightseeing.
We began in Tel Aviv, moving though Jerusalem to the Dead Sea, Tiberias, Safed and Haifa.
I saw most of the important sites, including the Western Wall, Yad Vashem, Massada, Ein Gedi and Akko.
Throughout the trip, I found myself alternating between feeling so exhausted I was sure I couldn’t digest one more tidbit of information, to being so overwhelmed and in awe that I swore to myself I would pack my bags and come back to live permanently the first chance I had.
Walking alone after dinner, I realized that I didn’t want to admit to myself that the trip was truly over and it would probably be a very long time before I would be able to return. Even though I felt lucky for the opportunity to make the trip, my time in Israel was too short.
I also thought of something that Mr. Marom said as we walked down the street after dinner. “Does this look to you like a country that is at war?” he asked loudly over the noise and crowds of happy people. As I walked along later by myself, and watched everyone smiling and dancing, I had to agree with him. Definitely not.
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