Anachnu Atzuvim: We Are Sad
<p>When I landed in Israel on Monday afternoon, the airport was quiet. As many of you know, Ben Gurion airport is usually a chaotic bustle. It is a hubbub: of reunion, of security protocols, of strangers helping strangers pull their bags off of conveyer belts on its best day, and strangers elbowing other strangers out of the way the rest of the time.</p>
<p>I knew that this trip would be like no other, but I wasn’t prepared for the quiet. Walking down the long Jerusalem stone hallway towards passport control was like entering a house of mourning. Pictures of the hostages lined the walls. People spoke in hushed tones, pausing to read the names, to whisper a prayer. Group trips to Israel right now are not booked for pleasure. They are called ‘missions.’ We were not there for vacation, we were there for a purpose.</p>
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