It’s been about a week since I left Israel, Alexander Muss High School, and my new family who I miss dearly. I really wish that I could go back to Israel, not just for the sights but also for the atmosphere– it’s so much more bright and welcoming, and not mention the weather is a lot nicer than here in Pennsylvania. The whole time that I was at Muss, I had turned off all of my news notifications for alerts coming from here in America as a way to de-stress, and even though it may have been quite ignorant to completely block myself from knowing what was going on back here, it made these past two months just that much more stress free and enjoyable. So overall, I miss almost everything about Israel– the food, the culture, the people, the sights– but I did miss my family and friends back here at home, and I’m more than happy to be back with them. Reflecting on my first ever trip to Israel, I can’t help but feel so blessed and privileged to have gotten the opportunity to travel halfway across the world on a scholarship and get to experience climbing Masada, floating in the Dead Sea, hiking through the Golan Heights, and spend a weekend at a Bedouin tent, just to name a few. These experiences I know are ones that not everyone who wants to will get to go on, so for the past week in my time to reflect I can’t control the overwhelming feeling of pride and gratefulness that comes at the conclusion of the past two months. Coming back home doesn’t exactly feel like coming home in an odd way. Yes, my mom, dad, and brother are here and so are my friends who I’ve known for ten years, and the streets that I’ve driven on my entire life but it doesn’t feel as familiar as the streets in Hod Hasharon, Jerusalem, or Tel Aviv. It doesn’t seem to make sense, but yet again when people who had gone to Israel in the past expressed these feelings, I didn’t get it either because I hadn’t been in Israel yet. At some point, I will most definitely go back to Israel, not just for birth right but possibly live there for a while, maybe even stay– I don’t know exactly, but at some point what I want to do with this experience will become more clear in the future once I readjust to life here and see if these passionate feelings toward the land of Israel are true, or if it’s just because I still have the memories of walking to the Kotel on Shabbat fresh in my mind. Going to Israel did make one major thing clear to me that wasn’t exactly making sense before: my best friend has lived in America long enough that she wasn’t necessarily required to serve in the IDF, but in her last year of high school, she decided that rather than go to a four year college here in the US, she would move back to Israel and serve in the IDF. When she made this decision, I was wondering “why would you give up going to college”? I didn’t have anything against Israel, trust me. I guess I was just wondering what was so great about Israel that she would alter her future to its needs. It all makes sense now after going, because I now know personally the immense feeling of pride that one feels when you’re praying or dancing at the Kotel, or singing Hatikvah there for the last time in the holy land– it’s a feeling unlike any other. These past two months have probably been the two greatest months of my life, and I don’t use that phrasing lightly.