10 | FEBRUARY 29 • 2024 J
N

essay
Returning to Israel

I

n August of 2023, I was on 
a Fact Finders trip to Israel 
with Michigan State students, 
Jewish and non-Jewish alike, 
to learn about the conflict on 
the ground in Israel. We spent 
time in the Gaza Envelope 
region, specifically Sderot and 
Kfar Aza. In Sderot, we visited 
a playground made up almost 
completely of bomb shelters; in 
Kfar Aza, we talked to a resident 
who explained what life was like 
in the kibbutz and showed us 
rockets that landed there. 
After we left the area, I 
thought I had a good grasp on 
the situation. Being so close 
to Gaza, I saw how the people 
had adapted to the daily threat 
of rockets from Hamas. But, 
they adapted and were thriving 
regardless. I left Israel thinking 
things were OK. Then Oct. 7 
happened.
I, along with the world, 
watched the initial reports of 
the Hamas invasion in horror. I 
watched the news and texted my 
Israeli friends and family con-
stantly, trying to validate their 
safety. And as more information 
was released, I felt more and 
more helpless. 
I planned events for discussion 
and reflection on campus, and I 
took to social media to keep peo-
ple informed, but no matter what 
I did, the feeling of helplessness 
persisted. So, when I was offered 
an opportunity to return to Israel 
for a wartime variation of the 
Fact Finders trip, I had to say yes. 

ON THE GROUND
Our first stop was Hostage 
Square in Tel Aviv. I had seen 
images online, specifically of 

the Shabbat table with a seat 
for every hostage. It took over 
a minute to walk just one side 
of the table from end to end. It’s 
impossible to capture the sheer 
magnitude of a table set for over 
200 people through photographs 
or videos. 
In the following days, we 
heard from a variety of speakers 
about the geopolitical situation 
after Oct 7. We met survivors of 
the Nova Festival and families of 
the hostages. We met physicians 
and first responders, including a 
ZAKA volunteer whose recollec-
tions will haunt me for the rest 
of my life. 
But we didn’t just hear stories; 
we witnessed the aftermath of 
Oct. 7. In August 2023, I was in 
a Sderot restaurant for lunch, 
having fun with my friends. In 
January 2024, I passed that same 
restaurant, empty and covered in 
hostage posters. In August 2023, 
I was in Kfar Aza, waving at a 
preschool class that was playing 
outside. In January 2024, I saw 
the beautiful kibbutz empty. 
Destroyed. 
Our guide through Kfar Aza 

was a resident of the kibbutz and 
a survivor of the massacre. He 
told the story of his best friend, 
one of the civilians murdered 
while protecting the kibbutz. 
He showed us houses that were 
decimated, recounting stories 
of those who lived there. He 
showed an entire section of the 
kibbutz, one of the first to be 
hit, where not a single inch had 
been spared destruction. That 
section was where the young 
adults of the kibbutz lived. An 
entire generation of the kibbutz 
slaughtered. 
Of all of the destruction, 
one image stands out the most. 
Walking through the kibbutz I 
saw a sukkah. A simple sukkah, 
white and green canvas sides and 
a palm leaf roof, just standing 
on the side of the road. Oct. 7 
was the last day of Sukkot, and 
whether the family survived or 
not, I don’t know. But they were 
never able to take down their 
sukkah. 
We met with Yair Moses, 
whose father and mother were 
both taken hostage. His mother 
was released during the tem-

porary ceasefire, but his father, 
Gadi, remains a hostage. He 
shared how his father used to 
travel around the world to guide 
people in agriculture, saying “he 
did it for a purpose, to make sure 
people will be able to do better 
agriculture and make sure they 
can support their families.
” He 
shared how his father loved to 
talk with people, explaining that 
“he loved to talk, willing to talk 
with everyone on any subject. 
Sports, agriculture, politics or 
whatever it is. He loved people.
” 
A man who spent so much 
time talking with and helping 
people; that is who is held in 
Gaza, alongside 130+ innocent 
others. 
In the wake of Oct. 7, Israeli 
agriculture is struggling. Many 
workers from other countries 
have left Israel, leaving farmers 
struggling without enough help 
in their fields. One morning my 
group spent four hours volun-
teering on a strawberry farm. We 
picked countless strawberries, 
helping this family farm save 
their crops from rotting. 
We also volunteered with the 

PURELY COMMENTARY

After Oct. 7, the experience was very much different.

LELA WEINTRAUB JEWISH@EDU WRITER

Yair Moses with photos of his father, Gadi. A small section of the Nova Festival massacre memorial. 

