Heavy experience: With ancient, multi-ton-stone structures like these, Israel is a grounding place

“There’s no wi-fi here,” said the security guard manning the doors to the Jerusalem Archaeological Park, a sprawling site where archaeologists are digging through ancient rubble. I had just left the park after spending hours wandering thousands of years of Jerusalem’s history, and had pulled out my iPhone to check the time. The guard pointed to the Western Wall, a 2,000-year-old revered Jewish religious symbol. “If you want wi-fi,” he said, “go by the Wall.”

Such is Israel, a state caught not only in political and religious tension, but also in tension between the ancient and the ultra-modern. Sometimes—as in the dazzling Tower of David multimedia light show, displaying artistic stories of history on top of the history itself—the tension yields unique creative offspring. Others—as in the cellphone-wielding worshippers at the Wall—it just feels sacrilegious, superficial or both. Towering, lasting monuments of thousand-year-old civilizations make modern artifacts like my iPhone seem ludicrously transient, given that it became obsolete one year after I bought it.

And that grounding is probably the lasting legacy of my recent 12-day trip to Israel, from which I returned April 15. For a place so suffused with religious and political anxieties, you’d think it would feel much less secure. Granted, the pervasive presence of 18-year-old machine-gun-toting conscripts and metal detectors help. But the land and structures themselves exude permanence, from the mountainous deserts to the Jerusalem stones that compose the Old City. This country has outlasted much turmoil in its 4,500-year history.

That’s not to say it’s not tumultuous. I spent five days on this trip visiting a kibbutz, Ketura, in the desert (yes, back to the desert again), where my baby sister is currently studying at the Arava Institute, a school that brings Arabs and Jews together to discuss common challenges with the environment. (Slogan: “Nature has no borders.”) My wife, Anna, worked at Arava several years ago, and we were graciously welcomed into the community for our stay. That stay coincided with Holocaust Memorial Day and its attendant sirens and documentary television shows describing the events of WWII and their impact on the world today. (We also visited Yad Vashem, Israel’s devastatingly powerful Holocaust museum.) The history and politics are inescapable.

As is the danger. Visiting one of Anna’s cousins in Israel, Anna remarked on how jealous she was of their walk-in closet. Turns out the closet is a bomb shelter (apparently mandatory in residential buildings). On their fridge is a map of Israel showing how long people in different regions have to find shelter before a missile hits them from the north. I asked her cousin’s husband how this affects them. “We find it boring,” he said, although his English is limited. I think he simply meant that this is their daily reality. Like traffic jams or something.

All in all, I would recommend visiting Israel, for many reasons. Historical grounding is one. Getting a first-person sense of the country, its people and its challenges is another. (As with any situation, the reality is far more complicated than can be explained in a 30-second news clip.) And then there’s simply the fact that for such a small country—Israel’s about the size of New Jersey—it has a surprising diversity of people, perspectives, landscapes and historical sites. So much so that 12 days left me wanting more (particularly Jerusalem), and I hope to return. Maybe one day I’ll upload an update to this post from beside the Wall.