On Yom HaAtzmaut, Israel Independence Day, this year, I experienced Israel with all my senses. I felt the Israeli desert wind brush against my face. I felt my muscles straining as I pedaled my bike up hills and into craters as I traveled 300 miles from Jerusalem to Eilat.
As a participant in the Arava Institute Hazon Israel Ride: Cycling for Peace Partnership and Environmental Protection, I had the great privilege to feel myself part of the Jewish state, to experience Israel without a windshield — up close and personal.
The third annual ride, held May 10-17, raised $400,000 to support the work of The Arava Institute. Its vision — hazon in Hebrew — is “to provide the Middle East a new generation of sophisticated professionals that will meet the region’s environmental challenges with richer and more innovative, peace-building solutions.”
A group of 110 Jews, Muslims and Christians aged 14-77 excitedly began our journey from the Old City of Jerusalem and cycled 300 miles to the shores of the Red Sea in Eilat.
This diverse group of kindred souls, working towards a common goal, quickly developed into a caring community that cycled, prayed and broke bread together.
The night before the ride began, we gathered in Jerusalem to commemorate Yom HaZikaron, Israel’s Memorial Day. Overlooking the Old City with eyes focused in the direction of The Western Wall, I sang “Hatikvah” as never before. The meaning of the words resonated through my mind, body and soul.
Leaving Jerusalem on a cloudy, cool day, a soft mist falling, I smelled fragrant jasmine in full bloom. It was the 17th day of the Omer (tiferet shebetiferet) — a day that was all about the quintessence of beauty and balance!
I passed the Ellah Valley, where the biblical battle between David and Goliath took place, wanting to stop to take it all in, while trying to recreate these events in my mind’s eye.
I visited the cemetery at Kibbutz Negba on this Yom HaZikaron, solemnly guarded by representatives of the Israeli military. Negba, was the first modern Jewish settlement quickly established in the south of Israel in 1939. I listened as one of its heroic Eastern European immigrant founders, shared his story about escaping the horrors of Nazism and defending Israel from Egyptian invasion.
It’s a familiar theme in Jewish history — fighting the enemy against all odds and winning — but this time I was at the very place, riveted as I stood in the presence of one who lived it.
I chanted “Modeh Ani” and expressed my gratefulness before the Eternal Living Spirit in the early morning hours at the lip of the immense Ramon Crater. I was overcome by the natural, physical beauty of that place. As I stood there, I felt how the ride had become not only a physical but also a spiritual journey.
I cycled the vast, silent open space of the Negev Desert, enveloped by its majestic mountains, tiny flowers blooming by the roadside. I felt a deep sense of peacefulness and tranquility, with only the sound of bike gears shifting and the wind and voices of the past whispered in my ear.
All too soon, the arid beauty of the Arava was behind me and I caught sight of the breathtakingly brilliant blue of the Red Sea. We arrived in Eilat on the 22nd day of the Omer (yesod she’b’netzach) — a day that represents the aspect of endurance that is kindest and most open. How fitting a theme for the final day of our ride.
A few days later, I boarded an airplane for home, my mind, body and spirit enriched. And I landed in Milwaukee with the certainty that I have two homes, one in the wind and sun of the Middle East.
Pamela Frydman-Roza teaches Hebrew at the Milwaukee Jewish Day School and Torah Academy of Milwaukee.
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