My Year of Living Resiliently

I remember my first long flight to Israel as a five-year-old-girl piled on top of my siblings, just trying to sleep through it all. My parents’ great desire was to instill in us a deep, passionate connection to the land. Since then, I’ve had many memorable trips to the Holy Land. As I reflect on these trips, I realize that my parents ignited the spark for my connection to Israel, but my year in Israel kindled a flame.

In February 2020, I planned to graduate high school and go straight to Washington University in St. Louis. I was excited to be on my own and experience real independence for the first time. Then my plans imploded. COVID-19 emerged and the world turned upside down. I had the choice to start college online or do a gap year in Israel, where I would attend a seminary along with other Jewish students my age.

I had experienced everything Israel has to offer, I thought. Why did I need to go back? On the other hand, Israel was the easier option, so it’s the one I chose. I didn’t realize that Israel would have its own obstacles and surprises to share with me.

As I boarded the flight to Tel Aviv, I was filled with anxiety and uncertainty. I cried the entire way from Los Angeles to New York. When I arrived, I called my Abba and told him to “call it off,” but he told me to keep going. I was leaving my LA friends, my family, the beautiful beach sunsets, and for what?

At the luggage claim in Tel Aviv, I instantly bonded with my first friend. She offered to help me with my bags and I knew she was going to be my best friend. Immediately, the seminary students were loaded onto busses and driven to Kibbutz Almog in the hot Negev. It felt like a fever dream. My first two weeks were spent with strangers in a place where 100-degree heat was considered a cool day. I was desperate to procure simple, fresh vegetables. I called my mom: “SOS! I need food.” The next day, two angels, Yigal and Shifra, arrived bearing the best gifts—10 bags of fresh groceries. My new friends were amazed. I realized only in Israel would someone drive from Hebron to Almog just to deliver groceries to me. Yigal and Shifra opened my heart and eyes to truly see the people of Israel for the first time.

But things were about to get more difficult. When the travelers’ quarantine ended I was not allowed to leave the radius of the room. Trapped in my school, my dreams of doing my own thing evaporated quickly. I couldn’t see friends from home, sit in a restaurant or even go out for shabbat. But the challenge allowed me to bond with the girls at my school in a way I never expected. This created yet another reason for me to stay.

After my five months at seminary, Israel began to roll out its vaccination program. I received my first vaccine, and everything seemed to be looking up until the school had a COVID outbreak. I left campus to quarantine alone in an Old City apartment. Once again, only in Israel, two incredible women took amazing care of me, bringing me lunch, dinner, snacks and activities so I would never feel alone. I was treated like a princess and didn’t want the quarantine to end.

By March, I had already been in Israel for an extremely challenging six months. I realized my view of Israel had changed. As the country began to open, I immediately felt welcomed into the extended Israeli community. Everywhere I went there was an opportunity to celebrate simchas and everyday life. Israel was opening and I was open to new experiences. I tried delicious vegan southern food in Mitzpe Rimon, joined strangers who made me feel I was a part of their shul for a Torah dedication, and, believe it or not (Sorry mom!), I jumped out of an airplane. Yom Ha’Atzmaut was unforgettable. Perched on a rooftop (thank you Eli Beer) in Tel Aviv I watched with pride as a military formation flew overhead. I felt like a part of Am Yisroel, filled with energy, optimism and love of the land.

I felt like a part of Am Yisroel, filled with energy, optimism and love of the land.

But just as I started to feel a sense of normalcy, the ground started shifting again. The mood in the country changed abruptly. The Meron tragedy on Lag BaOmer plummeted the entire nation into acute pain and turmoil. I attended the funeral of Donny Morris, a boy my age and someone I had never met. I stood with over a thousand Jews mourning together as a community. This experience changed me forever. I had never heard euologies like the ones spoken in his memory. How is it possible that someone so young could make such an impact? All of the people of Israel came together to mourn Donny, and the lessons they learned from the euologies opened their hearts.

Sadly, as the community was beginning to heal from the Meron tragedy, the country once again was under siege. I was dancing, singing, celebrating and waving flags with thousands of people at the Yom Yerushalayim parade. Suddenly, the sirens sounded and the parade paused. We ducked to the ground and covered our heads from incoming rockets. I felt exposed and vulnerable but I knew the Iron Dome was protecting me. I had a clash of emotions. The sirens stopped, people stood up and continued the celebration onto the Rova with quintessential Israeli resilience.

With the war now a full blown reality, my parents wanted me to come home. I packed up eight months of my life in two days. I didn’t have time to say a proper goodbye to my friends. The war was raging and my parents were concerned. I was booked on an El Al flight for the next day not knowing if it was even going to take off with what was happening in the country.

Once at Ben Gurion, my flight was repeatedly delayed. Finally they announced permission to board. I stood in line, feeling confident that I would finally be going home. Suddenly, people who had already boarded were running toward me. Outside the airport window, I saw flashing lights and rockets flying overhead. The red alarm blared, and I rushed to a bomb shelter. This LA girl was in the middle of a war.

Strangers in the bomb shelter came together as a community, comforting and taking care of one another. We were strangers, but we took care of one another.

Finally, we were released from the bomb shelter and within 40 minutes we were in the sky. Ten hours into the flight, the pilot announced that all the luggage had been left behind because shrapnel damage on the original runway required them to use a shorter runway. They had to unload all of the luggage at the last minute for lift off.

I flew to Israel crying and filled with uncertainty. I returned with deep emotions and gratitude for my experience. As I reflect on my year, I can say wholeheartedly that I wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. I learned so much about myself, Israel and my personal resilience. I went in feeling alone and scared, without friends or family, but I left with the strength of an entire community by my side. I now know why I was there.

Sonya Kest lives in Los Angeles. She graduated from Yula girls high school in 2020 and will be attending Washington University in St. Louis this August.