By Daniel Albert
We see maps of Israel and we think of the smallest county in the world surrounded by these huge Arab nations on three sides and the Mediterranean Sea on the fourth. Right across the Mediterranean Sea, the Greek island of Cyprus, less than 200 miles away. I have a cousin living in Seattle, Washington and from a certain road in his town, on a clear day, one could see Vancouver, Canada across the way. On a clear day from our very own university, Hebrew University, Mount Scopus Campus, you can see the hills of Amman, the capital city of our neighbor Jordan. From the Golan Heights you can see right into war-torn Syria or Lebanon. So when I heard we were going to be going boating on yachts on the Mediterranean, I expected that I was going to be able to see Cyprus.
It was 10:30 A.M., the sun was glistening off the sea, it was a clear and beautiful day with people I barely knew, but would soon become very close with. The boats set out in groups out of the calm blue waters. We left the dock as if leaving everything we knew, going out into the unknown. We quickly found ourselves far away from the shore being able to only see water around us. We sat around looking awkwardly at all the new faces until someone finally spoke up. I don’t remember who said what first, but our boat soon erupted with conversation. We spoke about where we were in school and what we were studying, what television programs we watched and what music we enjoyed rocking out to. We talked about mutual friends and played Jewish geography. Within 30 minutes, the people sitting around this boat no longer seemed like strangers that I had only met not even 24 hours before.
Now, reflecting back on the experience, it was definitely one that opened me up to being with 32 strangers I didn’t know previously. It opened me up to want to discuss, learn, and grow with and from everyone around me. It opened me up to the amazing friendships and bonds that would soon form. It opened me up to being a Nachshon fellow.
