We’re marking the 70th anniversary of the founding of Israel with a year-long celebration! Keep an eye out for “Memphis Celebrates Israel at 70” branding at your synagogue, at events around town, and online. In this My Israel Story series, we’re asking Memphians to tell their personal Israel stories. Do you have a story to tell?
During the summer following my college graduation, I staffed a BBYO Passport trip called Trek Israel. The four-week excursion arrived at a pivotal time in my life and offered a meditative period before moving home, entering the workforce, and re-starting my life. I expected to care for my group of 24 rambunctious teens and attempt to make their journey transformative like my high school Israel experience. I’d offer bits of elderly advice, lead the group through the winding Old City alleys, and apply gallons of sunscreen.
We spent most days exploring Israel’s dusty, yet charming countryside. Our trip included many of the classic Israeli tourist activities, such as rafting down the Jordan River, climbing Masada at sunrise, and banana-boating in the Red Sea. The itinerary also added off the beaten path challenges, including the non-intimidating (insert sarcasm) four-day, Sea-to-Sea hike and a morning of rappelling outside of Haifa. I related to the modern Jewish state through the millennia old earth its borders contained. However, one night in particular always makes me pause my movie reel of memories: the cold night camping in Makhtesh Ramon.
Makhtesh Ramon, or the Ramon Crater, lies in the center of southern Israel and 45 minutes away from any town, even an exceedingly small one. When the sun drifted under the horizon, darkness settled stubbornly over us; not in a way that incited fear, but one that encouraged us to find comfort among the blackness. I spent very little time in the Negev on my two former trips to Israel and did not think I missed an exceptionally notable region. Beaches, mountains, rivers, or hills attract people to a country – not deserts. Yet, I discovered an irreplicable peace within the desert silence.
It’s eerily spiritual being in a place that humans have existed for over five thousand years – visiting a land that has held religious, spiritual, and emotional value to nations both mighty and minute. It creates goosebumps along your arms and butterfly tingles in your stomach; similar to when it starts to rain at a funeral and you feel a Holy Trinity-esque connection to the Earth, life, and death. It makes you feel small within your body, but full of fervor to experience the most intimate moments of life. A driving urgency to make something outstanding happen during my millisecond of a lifetime began to bubble in my stomach.
This revelation influenced my decision to move back to Memphis and build upon the rich history of my Jewish community. I wanted to support, innovate, and grow the community that raised me. I found a bewitching beauty woven within the underestimated threads of Memphis and an allure that pulls me back, even when I’m somewhere as magical as Israel.
