Who would know that I would be sitting in a middle-eastern hostel writing words at the stroke of my twenty-third birthday, packed for a 6am wake-up and a tour of the Temple Mount, followed by a flight to Morocco for ten days? I thought today about how far I've gone, and how much of a plan I didn't have to get me here. I had a wonderful wholesome Shabbat lunch at the Grossman family, friends of my favorite Hillel Director, and while his children rolled around the room, I realized that one of the others seated at the table was none other than Kobi, a tour guide from Cheltenham who guided me on my first visit to the Temple Mount, on Israel's election day two years ago!
Tonight as I watched the Hanukkah candles flicker, marking the fourth night, I contemplated the fascination of fire, and the desire to control it. Up north, forests are burning across the Carmel Mountains, leaving residents, many of which Druze, without water, electricity, or homes. The chaos has led to Israel's plea for international aid. Countries that spend much of their time bickering with Israel are now taking out her fires. The chaos comes closer when I think about where I'll be over the next 24 hours. Outside Al-Aqsa, lighting candles in Frankfurt while waiting for a transfer flight, and Casablanca. The chaos is imminent, but so are the memories. Happy Birthday!
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