Finding religion while lost during trip to Israel

Monday, 8/11/97 Finding religion while lost during trip to
Israel ISRAEL: Stranger’s charity a more moving testament to belief
than coercion

I am back from my journey to the Middle East (pretending there
is actually someone on campus reading my column) with plenty of
Bruin Talk from across the Walk about my trip to Israel. The trip
to Israel was meant to be a religious trip. To be honest, I was
more interested in sightseeing. But at $699 for airfare, room, and
board for a month, I didn’t think I could really go wrong. A plane
ticket alone can normally run you $1,500. My family and I were told
by friends and even rabbis that the main purpose of the trip was to
brainwash the students into becoming religious. Unfortunately, I
have one of those personalities that doesn’t react well when
something is forced upon me, and I was reluctant to be receptive to
what I was learning. Plus, it seemed that every night we had a
lecture from some American who came to Israel when they were
twenty, became Orthodox, and never left. But toward the end of my
trip, something happened to me that probably impacted me more than
any lecture or class ever could. I took a field trip by myself to
Tel Aviv so I could get one last chance to enjoy the warm
Mediterranean. Stupidly, I left all of my belongings sitting alone
while I went in the water … and surprise, they weren’t there when
I got back! There I was in my bathing suit, a white Gilligan hat,
rubber sandals and a wet $20 bill in my pocket, with no shirt on my
back – that was also in my backpack, along with my wallet, watch
and shoes. I was all alone in a strange city, in a strange country
where it seemed no one spoke English, and the most help I could get
from anyone was an address to the police station. I was walking by
a synagogue – on a street that I thought was going toward the
police station – when I asked one of the men grouped together
outside, getting ready for the evening prayer service, if I was
going the right way. The man named Aaron started walking with me,
even though the police station was supposedly up the street.
Finally, he offered to drive me there. Aaron lived nearby, and when
we got to his car, he told me to wait there. His car was old, and
the interior was beat-up and falling apart. As I was waiting in the
car, I looked around and saw that the apartment complex and area
that he lived in looked more like the ‘hood than Westwood. He ran
back to the car about five minutes later with a T-shirt, white
dress shirt, yarmulke and underwear in his arms. I took the
T-shirt, because that was all I really needed. Then we were off on
our journey to find the police station. It turned out that the
address I had was wrong, but instead of kicking me out of his car,
we kept going. It turned out that Aaron was actually from New York,
but had come to Israel to study. He was a 37-year-old man with, if
I remember correctly, eight children, and he was staying in the
area so his family could keep the rights to the apartment from
landing in the hands of a developer who wanted to build by the
beach. He was wearing the customary black suit that Orthodox men
wear, but he had patches on his knees where the suit may have had
holes. Unfortunately Aaron did not know the area well, and we
wandered around for about an hour. Just for your information, Jews
use the name Hashem, instead of G-d. The entire time, Aaron told me
to believe in Hashem, and that he would get us where we were going.
He told me how he was allowed to miss a prayer service, because he
knew that Hashem wanted him to aid me in my time in need. Had Aaron
not been driven by a divine source, I probably would have been
stranded. Aaron also said that if I believe and put my faith in
Hashem, I would get my bag and all of my money back. I was a little
skeptical about that. We found the police station, and Aaron acted
as my translator. After we walked out, he asked me if I wanted a
hot meal, a shower, and a place to stay the night. He kept on
saying that Hashem wanted him to do this. He told me he would have
given me some money, but he didn’t have any in his pocket.
Throughout the entire time on the way to the bus station I thanked
him, but he kept saying that Hashem had given him the task of
helping me, and to thank Hashem. It’s hard to lead a Jewish life
when you’re growing up in a melting pot like Los Angeles, where
tradition gives way to assimilation. It’s really tough to keep
kosher in Westwood when you have non-Jewish roommates, and even
tougher to go out for fast food. In Israel, most people, even the
less religious, keep a kosher house. There, you can go out to
American chains like Burger King, Pizza Hut, KFC and Subway,
without having to worry about eating traife (which means not
kosher). You can’t even look at, much less touch the opposite sex.
I didn’t know if it was appropriate to tell Aaron that I wanted to
get back to Jerusalem so badly because I had a date with a
beautiful British girl with a very "wicked" accent. (That means
"cool" in British.) It’s even harder to find 10 Jewish people to
pray together three times a day. In many synagogues in Los Angeles
it is close to impossible. I grew up in a religious household, but
I’m not nearly as religious as the Orthodox Jews that we
encountered on our trip. I wasn’t brainwashed on our trip like I
was told I would be, but I have a deeper and greater respect for
those who are leading an Orthodox lifestyle. And it’s even harder
for me to be vulnerable and admit that I’m not doing everything
that I can to be a better Jew. As of now, I still don’t know what
the effects of this trip will be on me. It is easy enough to make
excuses and say that it’s too hard to be more religious living in
such an assimilated culture. Some, including my counselor on the
trip, say that’s a cop-out. I may change or I may not, but that’s
my choice, and I’m going to have to live with the consequences of
the path I choose from now on. I want to believe, and I want to be
better, but right now I don’t know if I can. Though I may never see
Aaron again, I have to thank him forever for taking in and aiding a
complete stranger, because Hashem wanted that of him. And if
anything or anyone on that trip could make me believe more in
Hashem, it was Aaron. A.J. Harwin Previous Daily Bruin Story:
Thoughts on Westwood Village businesses , 7/21/97