Coming Home To A Place I Had Never Been
Feeling Roots I Didn’t Know I Had
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Anthony (Abraham Shalom) and Eric (Ezra Shandrovski) at the Western Wall wrapped in Tefilon, Jerusalem, Israel
What I Carried With Me Before Israel
If you asked me before this trip who I was, I would have said I am American. And I’m proud to be American. That would be my first answer. Yes, I am Italian American and Jewish American, but I never really felt those parts. My parents told me I was Italian. They told me I was Jewish. But we didn’t travel to either country. I never had big family dinners there. I never stood on the land and felt it.
There was no land my family owned or was a part of. I didn’t have any of that because my family was disconnected from that part of our family, on both my father and mother’s sides. I had heard I had some family in the Holocaust but there was no connection. There was no connection to Italy either. That connection got lost when my my grandparents’ parents came to America.
I was bar mitzvahed in 1994 at the Chabad of Sherman Oaks. My mom and my grandma made sure I knew about Judaism, but they didn’t really practice the religion. I was Jewish more in name, because their parents were Jewish and their parents before them were Jewish. But at least I got bar mitzvahed. When my great Aunt Elaine moved away, family gatherings stopped. Passover dinners ended. The Jewish traditions I grew up with as a kid faded away.
The second half of my junior high days at Millikan Middle School were some of my best. Almost all of my friends were Israeli or Jewish, and being around them gave me a strong sense of that culture. Some of which I’m still friends with to this day, like my good friend Shlomi. But once I moved and went to high school in the city of LA, those connections disappeared. With older family moving away or passing away, the Jewish side of my life almost disappeared too.
Welcome to Israel
That is why Israel meant so much. From the minute I arrived, I felt close to my identity in a way I never had before. It was like I belonged there. The place is very diverse. People come from all over the world. There are also native Israelis whose families have been there forever. But the common thread is Jewish identity. That thread pulled me in. I was accepted. People embraced me like I was one of them.
I never felt more at home anywhere. I just belonged. I can’t fully explain it. I just did.
I once studied abroad in Italy for a semester. I loved it, but I didn’t feel close to the culture the way I did to Jewish culture in Israel. This felt like a motherland moment. What surprised me most was how open Israel is. There are very religious people, and there are also people who are just living life as Israelis without being very religious. Both exist side by side.
Birthright Volunteer and a Bus Full of Energy
I went with Taglit’s Birthright Volunteer program. I missed my chance at Birthright when I was younger, and when I heard they opened a new program for up to age fifty, I applied right away. I was grateful before I even left.
The Boar & Borscht Brothers Anthony and Ezra at Tel Aviv Beach, Israel
I was the oldest in the group. Most were in their twenties, a few in their thirties, and one around forty. Being with so much youth was energizing. There was constant joking, roasting, accents, and fun on the bus. I met a guy named Eric aka Ezra who I’ll probably be friends with forever. We played chess every day and kept making fake Slavic accents while we joked. We even created a running idea for a restaurant called Boar and Borscht. Boar meat, borscht, Russian vibes — the whole thing was just dumb fun.
Logo for Boar & Borscht (Made up Restaurant and Story line)
At one point we even made a website on AI just for laughs. Sometimes you meet people and the connection is instant. For me, Ezra was that person.
Sometimes you meet someone and the banter just flows. That was Israel for me. People and place in rhythm.
The program wasn’t just sightseeing. It was about giving back. We packed lunches for IDF soldiers. The best part of that day was working side by side with a group of grandmas and grandpas, the Bubbies. Imagine an assembly line of grandparents moving quicker than you and keeping the vibe fun at the same time. It was great.
We also picked vegetables at Leket for families affected by the war.
We worked on two different farms — one in central Israel and one only a kilometer from Gaza. At the Gaza farm we could hear bombs in the distance and feel the ground shake while we picked grapes. That feeling is hard to forget. It reminded me how serious life is for people who live there every day.
This was the first Birthright trip after the Iran attack. Sirens are part of the daily reality. The people are strong and resilient. It reminded me of how in tough places, you learn to live with danger and still keep moving. Even in all of that, I felt peace. I felt calm.
Major Respect to the Migrant Workers Doing This Kind Of Work, Ahituv, Israel
We also helped at a cherry tomato and cucumber farm. That work humbled me. It was hot. The humidity was heavy. August in Israel is no joke. I came away with deep respect for people who farm for a living. Try doing it one day and you’ll understand.
One farmer told us how, before the war, most of his workers were from Thailand. When the fighting started, the government of Thailand called their people back home. Overnight he lost his entire workforce. The same thing happened with workers from other countries too. Imagine losing your entire crew with acres of farmland still needing to be cared for. But Israel didn’t leave him alone. Farmers from around the country came. Volunteers came. Even people from outside Israel showed up. People stepped in, and they worked together. It wasn’t charity. It was survival. It was community.
Standing at Nova
Anthony Alegrete gets emotional at the Nova Festival site in Kibbutz Re'im, Israel
We visited the site of the Nova Festival. The air there is heavy. Families had built small memorials for the people they lost. Photos, candles, stories. I heard about people ambushed in their cars, people hiding in bunkers, people sending their last texts to their loved ones.
One story stood out. A grenade was thrown into a bunker. An Israeli threw it back. It happened again and again. On the ninth time, he couldn’t, and it killed him. But because of what he did, many others survived.
R.I.P. to the fallen victims of October 7th at the Nova Festival
No matter where you stand politically, that massacre should never have happened. Standing on that ground made me thankful for the safety I have at home. It made me realize how much I take for granted.
I support Israel and I am against Hamas to the fullest. What happened at Nova was pure evil, and it shook me to be there. At the same time, I cannot ignore the pain of innocent people in Gaza who are suffering and dying too. I felt both realities pressing on me — grief for the lives lost at Nova, respect for the strength of the Israeli people, and sadness for civilians in Gaza caught in something many of them did not choose. Being there didn’t give me answers, but it gave me perspective. It reminded me that humanity should always come first.
Swimming and Walking Old Jaffa
Anthony Alegrete and The Full Birthright Crew in Jaffa, Israel
There were lighter moments too. Swimming in the Mediterranean Sea was one of the best experiences of my life. I’ve been to Hawaii, Florida, South America, but this was different. The water felt like a warm bath. We went to the beach almost every day, and it never got old.
We walked through Old Jaffa, a port that goes back thousands of years. Empires and traders have moved through that place for centuries. Now you can walk through the same stones, hear the stories, and then grab food from a small shop around the corner. It felt special to stand there.
We also went to the Shuk. The Shuk is basically a big outdoor market. You can buy food, spices, fresh produce, souvenirs, and just about anything else. It’s crowded and noisy but in a good way. It felt alive.
I went to a museum, saw art, and we visited Hostage Square in Tel Aviv, which is a memorial for those taken on October seventh. Each stop added to the weight and the beauty of the trip.
And just for humor, I never once got a warm shower. Every morning it was cold water at five in the morning. But when it’s already hot outside, even at dawn, that cold water feels pretty good.
Losing and Finding
One night I went to the beach at 11 o’clock at night for a swim. I left my backpack on a lawn chair thinking it was safe because there were a lot of people around. But it wasn’t. My backpack got stolen. Inside was my passport, my phone, and about two hundred shekels. You’d think that would ruin the trip, but it didn’t. It actually freed me from being glued to my phone. I stayed off social media. I paid attention. I was more present.
Three days later I got a message on LinkedIn. “Did you lose your passport?” My profile is private, so there is no way for anyone to even find me. The only reason he could see me was because he had a mutual friend. He didn’t have to do that. But he took the time to try and find me, and that was special. Miracles do happen, especially when you least expect them.
Turns out a local man had found my backpack dumped in an alley near the beach. He looked me up, saw we had a mutual friend, and reached out. I met him and got most of my things back — not the phone, but the passport. That was enough.
It reminded me how small the world is, and how sometimes strangers cooperate without even knowing they’re teaching you something about trust. Had this been in America, ninety nine times out of a hundred I never would’ve gotten anything back. But here, someone cared enough to take that extra step.
A Day in Jerusalem
Anthony Alegrete’s surreal day in Jerusalem, Israel
On our off day we went to Jerusalem. From the main train station we took a taxi into the old city, also known as the Kotel. As we pulled up to the city, the vibe was incredible. Hills rolled all around and the architecture was beautiful. Walking up gave me goosebumps.
At the top of the courtyard where the Western Wall is, there is a big Chabad synagogue. It reminded me of when I was bar mitzvahed back in 1994 — more than thirty years ago. I washed my hands in the fountain there and joined a group of Chabad men helping people who wanted to wrap tefilin. Ezra came with me, so did another friend, Justin. We were all mesmerized. They had been there before, but it was my first time. Still, we all felt the energy.
Ezra even brought his own tefillin from back home in New Jersey. We prayed together, snapped photos and videos, and captured the moment. I’ll never forget it.
The Western Wall is the Jewish part of old Jerusalem. That city is holy to Jews, Christians, and Muslims. You feel that weight as you pray there.
We left through the Damascus Gate, which is the Arab side. Tensions are real there, and I got plenty of looks. But respect goes a long way. I greeted people with “Assalamu alaykum,” placed my hand over my heart, and slightly bowed. People responded with kindness. That was a good reminder for me. Even in tense places, respect is the common language.
The Shuk there was busy, with sellers calling out prices, kids running around, spices stacked high, and all kinds of goods. It wasn’t polished or fancy, but it was real.
What I Learned
Anthony Alegrete and the whole Birthright Group at an IDF Base packing lunches
The trip taught me a lot. Volunteering showed me how people can get through hard times together. Packing meals with grandparents, picking grapes near Gaza, sweating in the fields — it all left a mark. Service isn’t about saving anyone. It’s about showing up and standing alongside people. It’s about telling the truth with your hands.
I learned that Israel is like a place for people that don’t have a country to go to. It possesses a group of people who are countryless but are bound together by their Jewish heritage, and so a home has been created.
“Everywhere you go, the mutual currency is kindness and respect.”
There were funny moments too — the cold showers, the chess banter, the stolen backpack story. And there were moments of deep faith, like swimming in the sea or praying at the Wall.
Anthony Alegrete in Old Jaffa, Tel Aviv, Israel
Most of all, I left feeling thankful. Thankful for the chance to experience Israel. Thankful for the people I met. Thankful for the reminder that identity isn’t just something you say, it’s something you live.
I hope my kids can one day feel what I felt on this trip.
And finally, I want to thank Taglit.
The Birthright Volunteer program gave me this experience, and for that I’ll always be grateful.
Written By: Anthony Alegrete
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