By Emma Goodman '11
Emma at Jaffa port, with Tel Aviv in the background.After a very demanding and stressful junior year at The University of Colorado at Boulder, I decided I needed to have a fun summer semester abroad. I contemplated a summer full of pasta, history, and wine in Italy or Tapas, beaches, and art in Barcelona. I then decided: I want to go somewhere powerful, somewhere different, somewhere out of my comfort zone. So, Israel it was. Everyone comes back from being abroad saying that it was the most incredible experience of their lives, and boy were they right.
One afternoon my roommate, Jessica, and I had gotten off work early and had decided to go shopping and treat ourselves to frozen yogurt before heading back to our apartment for the night. We walked into a boutique and to our surprise saw no one working in the store. We glanced at each other, said a quiet “hello?” and then began shopping. Moments later, a woman came out from the back of the store with a perplexed look on her face. She questioned, “Did you hear that?” Jess and I looked at each other confused, “Hear what?” She explained that a siren had gone off throughout the city signaling that we were under rocket attack, and that when that happens you have 60-90 seconds to get to the closest shelter or store, away from any windows. We were so confused; how had we not heard the siren? Why were rockets being sent to Tel Aviv? Did the rocket hit the city? The owner of the shop saw the terror in our eyes and calmed us down. We immediately called our parents with lumps of fear in our throats trying not to cry and headed back to our apartment. On our way many Israelis stopped us. Each one, recognizing we spoke English and clearly weren’t Israeli, asked if we were OK. They explained again where to go, how long you have, and emphasized not to worry. This was normal for them. I was so thrown off. People were sitting at cafes drinking coffee, moms were playing with their kids at the park; it was as if nothing had ever happened.
After experiencing the rockets daily 4-7 times, I, too, began to get used to the sound of the sirens, the boom of the explosion over-head, and walked to shelters instead of running and crying. This was now my life. I am one of them, living in a country under fire.
Being 21 years old, I noticed the city got noticeably quieter at night. This was because all of the young adults my age (18-23) served in the army and had been called to fight in Gaza. We asked our program leader, Leah, who is 23, if she was scared to get called in. She immediately responded, “No, I want to be called in. I hate sitting back and watching my friends and everyone else get to defend my country. I want to be with them. I want to protect my people."
I was inspired by the fact that they “get” to serve their country, and not that they have to. I was inspired that despite negative media, they kept their heads held high. I was inspired by the fact that they were not going to let Hamas change their daily lives. I was inspired that 20,000 people showed up to mourn the loss of a lone soldier from the US who died fighting in Gaza. I was inspired that the IDF has done more than any other defense force to protect civilians, both Israeli and Palestinian.
So, no, my summer was not a summer of daydreaming on the beach, staying out at the clubs till sunrise, or traveling from country to country every weekend. But I guarantee, what I experienced and learned this summer is far beyond what I had expected. I am so thankful to be alive and to be able to encourage people to experience new cultures. It seems we often truly take for granted the lives we are blessed with in the US.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed here are those of author's and do not necessarily reflect those of Tabor Academy.
