In mid-2023, I received confirmation that I would be the recipient of a scholarship for the International Master’s Degree in Education at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and I knew this would be a turning point in my life. As an Argentinian participant, what I looked forward to most was to experience the in-person summer semester in Israel (July 2024), which includes educational and recreational tours of various parts of the country. On October 7, the day when the greatest atrocity perpetrated against the Jewish People since the Holocaust occurred, the situation in Israel was completely transformed. Given the complexity and gravity of the situation, I assumed that traveling at this time would mean a somewhat diminished experience. However, I discovered that the context of war turned out to be a catalyst for learning and contributing in unexpected ways.

This year, the Hebrew University organized a summer semester itinerary focused on destinations inextricably linked with the war context. On one hand, we visited the Gaza Envelope region, which encompasses the southwestern kibbutzim and communities located in close proximity to the Gaza Strip; on the other, we explored Tel Aviv and its symbolic landscape. As a student, I was eager to see these sites with my own eyes. As an educator, however, I felt an even greater responsibility to convey my experience to those who may not have the opportunity to experience it firsthand.

First, we visited Shvil Hasalat, an agricultural village that was practically deserted after 10/7. There, we were welcomed by a resident who, despite everything, decided not to abandon his work. He immediately showed us a tomato plantation on the verge of spoiling due to the lack of laborers. That’s when we decided to put on gloves and get to work on the harvest. Despite the heat and fatigue, the experience was deeply gratifying, and with this small contribution, my heart filled with emotion and gratitude.

We then continued our journey to Sderot, the Israeli city closest to the Gaza Strip. There, a survivor shared her testimony, in which her wounded father was saved by a hero who, amid the attacks, used his car to rescue dozens of neighbors before being killed. As we said goodbye, she asked us to spread her message so that the world will know what happened and so it never happens again. Motivated by this request, I began recording every story I heard. One especially memorable account was recounted by a man who suddenly became the proud “grandfather” of two children who were orphaned on that fateful day.

Later, we arrived at the Reim Forest, the site of the electronic music festival massacre, which has now become a place of remembrance. As we stood there, the overwhelming silence was suddenly interrupted by noises from a nearby military base, and I was reminded that the war is not over. At that moment, I saw a group of young people who formed a circle and, embracing each other, began to sing traditional Jewish songs. Little by little, more people joined in, and there was a palpable sense of unity. Finally, we all together exclaimed, "Am Israel Chai!" (The people of Israel lives!), reaffirming our Jewish identity.

In Tel Aviv, we visited the ANU Museum of the Jewish People, where the "October 7" exhibition features works by survivor artists as well as others who were kidnapped or killed. One of the galleries highlights a painting with a canvas pierced by terrorists’ bullets. In another room, a video is projected, combining documentary photos with songs that have become national hits amidst the war. This phenomenon in the music industry stems from the urgent need to process collective trauma. Since then, this is the music I listen to and share with others who seek a glimpse of healing.

The last milestone of our journey was Kikar Ha-Hatufim, “Hostages’ Square”, located in front of the Tel Aviv Museum of Art. There, I contemplated the famous table with empty chairs, symbolizing the absence of those kidnapped to Gaza. A few meters away is a replica of a Hamas tunnel, which simulates the terrible conditions in which the hostages are being held. To raise funds for the ongoing campaign for their release, the Hostage Families Forum has set up stands selling themed items. To support the organization, I bought some of the yellow ribbons that are ubiquitous throughout the country, to distribute upon my return and thus spread awareness of the cause.

What initially seemed like an experience that would be limited by war was transformed into a series of opportunities to learn and contribute in meaningful ways. Actions such as working the land, hearing and recording testimonies, calling for unity, sharing music, and buying tokens of support made a difference. As a result, I strengthened my connection with Israel, reaffirmed my identity, and deepened my commitment to education in general and Jewish education in particular. Unquestionably, all of this was made possible because I embarked on this adventure - Especially Now.

Romina Fur is a scholarship student of the International Master's Program at the Melton Centre and works at the Marc Chagall School in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Want to know more about our Summer Seminar in Israel? Click here >> masterjewishprogram.huji.ac.il/summer-semester