Embarking from Montreal to Jerusalem is more than just a physical experience; it’s profoundly emotional and spiritual. Travel has a way of unravelling the distance between places and the borders between people. As I touched down in Israel on March 2nd, my travels unfolded, weaving tales of serendipity and human connection. With every moment, I etched a chapter in the chronicles of my spring encounters, from the bustling airplane cabin to the sacred streets of Jerusalem.
The adventure began on the flight. I was seated beside a young Ukrainian man from Odesa, a city that has become synonymous with resilience in recent times. As he shared his story, I was struck by the sheer determination it took for him to navigate the challenges of obtaining a work transfer and crossing borders during such a tumultuous period. His visit to his cousins in Tel Aviv was more than just a family reunion; it was a testament to his spirit. As we shared the space of that airplane cabin, I realized how travel can compress time and space, bringing together people from different walks of life, each with their own unique journey.
Neuropedagogia: Where souls and education meet
Next to us sat a woman, deeply engrossed in a well-worn Bible. I couldn’t help but wonder about her story and what brought her on this journey. When she finally looked up, we struck up a conversation. She was from Switzerland, and her enthusiasm for experiencing the places mentioned in the Bible was infectious. I offered suggestions for her travels, excited to share a piece of the land I had come to know and love. By the end of our conversation, she had invited me to visit her in Switzerland. What started as a simple chat turned into a warm connection, leading to a shared meal in Jerusalem a week later—a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections are those we never see coming.
On the communal Sherut taxi, I sat beside an American woman with a baby on her lap. She was returning from a wedding in Montreal, a city that suddenly felt much closer in the warmth of our shared experience. Her husband, a teacher at a Yeshiva in Jerusalem, was waiting for her, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie—two women connected by our ties to this city, yet from such different backgrounds. On the other side was Orit Elgavi-Hershler, an Israeli neurobiologist educator. Her passion for her work, especially on the latest methods for addressing autism and schizophrenia, was palpable. We peppered her with questions, and I left that ride feeling richer for having met her, grateful for the serendipity that placed us in that taxi together.
But the most remarkable moment came when I stepped off the Sherut, burdened with two oversized suitcases and two hefty carry-ons. As I stood on the narrow sidewalk, trying to figure out my next move, a woman suddenly stopped her car and parked right in front of me. Without hesitation, she got out and offered to help with my luggage. It was such a simple gesture, but in that moment, it felt profound. The kindness catches you off guard, making you realize how deeply connected we all are, even to strangers. It was the perfect welcome to my new apartment in Jerusalem, a city that has always felt like a second home to me.
As I reflect on these moments—each unexpected, each filled with sincerity—I am reminded of why I love to travel. It’s not just about the destinations or the landscapes; it’s about the people we meet along the way and the connections that turn a journey into a story worth telling.