From the Promised Land to Egypt:

Our reverse exodus to leave Israel during the war

By Phil Margolis

In February, U.S. ships were moving to the Middle East, and the U.S. was threatening Iran if a new nuclear deal wasn’t reached. Knowing war was possible, we left anyway for our second annual trip to Israel to visit friends, volunteer and explore – all while hoping armed conflict would be averted.

We had a wonderful first week, visiting friends and sites in the north and central part of the country. We walked the streets of Tsfat, visited several museums (including the Mishkan Museum), volunteered twice with Leket (the national foodbank), saw a Purim parade, drank wine at a winery at sunset, lunched with friends at their home, and enjoyed a Kabbalat Shabbat service and relaxing dinner.

In the wee hours of Saturday morning, our phones blared an alert: “Israel is attacking Iran. Be prepared for their response.”

For the next two days, warnings and sirens were steady. We hunkered down at our friends’ apartment, which fortunately had a safe room. Alerts fractured our sleep, and frequent sirens dashed any hopes of a simple walk.

On Monday, we drove 35 stressful minutes to Tel Aviv. We spent the drive eyeing the roadside for shelter. We were headed to help clean apartments damaged by a recent missile blast. We were paired with a lovely 85-year-old woman, Sari, whose windows were blown out. While it felt good to help her clean her living room, we mostly enjoyed hearing her story during our two stints in her safe room.

We then returned our car rental and checked into our AirBnB. Once again, sleep eluded us. Our older building’s shelter was in the basement. We enjoyed getting to know the neighbors over our several days there. We walked along nearby Dizengoff Street and the beach, staying close to shelters we unfortunately needed on every outing.

Unsure when flights would resume and urged by the State Department to leave, we spent hours piecing together an escape route: A Ministry of Tourism bus from Tel Aviv to Taba, a (terrifying) cab ride to Sharm El Sheikh in Egypt, a flight on Wizz Air to Rome, and United flights to Washington and then Hartford.

Three long days later, we were home—safe, yet missing Israel and worrying about our friends we left behind. We certainly had a new and authentic Israel experience.

Observations:

• Israelis are resilient, but life is not normal – You hear about Israelis resuming life as usual. We saw cars driving and people getting coffee on Dizengoff, but the streets were relatively quiet and many shops remained shuttered. While Israelis adapt, there is nothing normal about regular bombardment.
• Iron Dome is amazing, but not perfect – We heard interceptors booming against incoming missiles, but news reports confirmed casualties in Tel Aviv and Beit Shemesh. We also learned the lethal danger of falling debris.
• There is a constant level of stress – I didn’t need my Fitbit to tell me my stress level had risen (but it did). The piercing red alerts, wailing sirens and constant war reports kept us permanently on edge.
• Embassies can help, but don’t depend on them – The U.S. Embassy sent briefings on land crossings, but their emergency line was unhelpful once the physical office closed. Ultimately, you’re on your own to figure things out.
• It still feels like home – Though staying served no purpose, we were sad to leave. Our connection to Israel only deepened while sheltering with others in Tel Aviv. I’m sometimes asked, “Do you have family in Israel?” I’ve started to reply, “Yes, seven million of them.”

Phil Margolis is immediate past-president of the Connecticut Valley Region, and chair of Individual Members for FJMC International.