Page 36 THE JEWISH GEORGIAN September-October 20<strong>08</strong> March From page 35 marchers from Atlanta, Boca Raton, Tampa, and Dallas, I boarded a bus and rode over to the Kotel. When we got there, the girls, of course, split from us, and I caught up with some friends, mostly Orthodox, from Florida. <strong>The</strong>re was a breeze, and the temperature was probably in the 70s—there could not have been nicer weather, and the Kotel was dazzling in the setting sun. <strong>The</strong>re was a gigantic throng of people—I literally could not see the lower part of the wall because it was blotted out by so many black hats. We finally found a clear spot with an altar, and the Dallas rabbi, a tall, lively man named Rabbi Tannenbaum, began leading the prayer in a deep, baritone voice. As we got to the Shmoneh Esrei, I found myself swaying and bowing like a tree in a hurricane, saying the words fervently. As we went through Mincha and Ma’ariv, more and more Jews joined our minyan. When we got to Kabbalat Shabbat, things became animated. Soon, it seemed that we were attracting every American male who was praying at the wall that night. When we got to L’cha Dodi, we went wild, jumping around in our circle and singing at the tops of our lungs. Some Israelis were standing next to us, watching our prayer frenzy, and we pulled them into our circle. By the time the bus came to pick up the non-Orthodox kids (all of Dallas and most of the Boca Raton kids stayed behind to walk about an hour back to the hostel), we were rushing through Aleinu, trying to complete the service in time. When we finished, I was sweating profusely and my voice was almost gone. I went back to the hostel, hung out with some friends for a while, and fell asleep, spiritually satisfied. Saturday was a quiet day—since it was Shabbat, we could not travel anywhere by bus. After we ate the seudah shlishi, we reflected on the entire trip, recalling all of the events of the past two weeks: arriving in Berlin—driving to Warsaw, Tykocin, Treblinka—the March of the Living and touring Birkenau and Auschwitz—Shabbat in Cracow and the emotionally draining tour of Majdanek. <strong>The</strong>n, the Holy Land: cheering as our planed touched down—rafting along the Israeli-Jordanian border— mourning in our host cities during Yom Hazikaron and celebrating in Tiberias and on the March to the Old City during Yom Ha’atzmaut. Now it was time to say goodbye to our new friends and head back to the United States. After a long yet restful flight, we were suddenly back in Atlanta. As we made our way through customs and the terminal, we talked about how hard it was going to be to explain the trip to our families. I used to be an agnostic; now I feel that I am a very spiritual person and have begun wearing a Magen David necklace to show how proud I am of my <strong>Jewish</strong> identity. March of the Living transformed me as a person. It is never too late to go on the trip; many adults participate. People may say that they cannot handle the emotions of March of the Living. In my opinion, if you are a Jew, this trip is as essential as seeing Israel. When the survivors die out, only those of us who have been to Poland and seen the horrors of the Holocaust will be able to bear witness to the Holocaust. Every Jew has an obligation to remember all of those who died in the killing centers of Poland and embrace the fact that we as a people have endured, have a land to call our own, and, most importantly, are living. ————— <strong>The</strong> next March of the Living is April 19- May 3, 2009. For more information, contact Eve Adler of MOL Atlanta Inc. at molatlanta@yahoo.com, or visit www.molatlanta.org. A special adult bus is available, but registration is limited. ————— Jason Axelrod is a freshman pre-journalism major at the University of Georgia. He can be reached at jaxelrod@uga.edu.
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