An Autistic Trip Through Israel - Part Three

This is Part Three of my reflections on my two-month trip to Poland and Israel. Last time, I talked about my experience in the North, in Tel Aviv, and in Poland—now, I’ll cover the final part of the trip.

After returning, I got to spend a wonderful shabbat with a host family, the group reunited to journey down south to Kibbutz Ketura. The second half of the trip was much more sensory-packed than the first, and I was nervous about striking a balance between participation and keeping myself safe. The most important step I took was taking everything slowly. Especially in the south, in the desert, I focused on taking things calmly rather than overthinking. My first major challenge? Snorkeling. 

Most water activities go wonderfully for me. They are positive sensory experiences, usually cooling down my system. However, once in a while, things can go unexpectedly. I thought back to 9th grade when I had a sensory overload after swimming in the Dead Sea. I didn’t know what to expect. After all, I had never been in the Dead Sea before. So, I took a couple of measures. First, I had a brief phone call with my family friend Justin. Not only does he know me very well, but he regularly snorkels and scuba dives. If anyone could prepare me, it’d be him. He walked me through what snorkeling was like, what breathing techniques I should employ, and what to look for during my experience. His most powerful piece of advice? Take it easy and live in the moment. So, on the day of snorkeling, I chose a calm morning activity, and since this ended before the other activities, I enjoyed three hours of free time. I was as rested as I could be. I came in with a positive attitude. And it worked. I spent 30 minutes joyfully snorkeling through the Red Sea, seeing a variety of fish and coral. It wasn’t a perfect activity. It took me about 15 minutes to master my breathing technique, but by the end of the experience, I was surprised by how well it went. I know it won’t be the last time I snorkel, as long as I prepare for it smartly.

I had other similarly engaging sensory experiences as well. In the North, I got to participate in a river hike at the Gan HaShlosha Stream and raft on the Jordan River. Both had their challenges, but were incredibly fulfilling. Similarly to snorkeling, I prepared myself for any outcome and approached it with a positive attitude. 

Let’s talk about options week. As part of the trip, every student chooses a different elective that meets their interests. Some did agricultural work on a kibbutz. Others hiked along the Israel National Trail. And some participated in a Mechina program. I originally planned to participate in the Archeology track, but after participating in sifting towards the beginning of the trip, I decided to shift to Beit Midrash - a better option for my sensory needs. Still, because of the unique layout of this year’s Jewish calendar, Purim extended into three days in Jerusalem, and so the Yeshiva was closed. And on Sunday, I went to Archaeology. I was very clear with the staff that this was a risky setup for me. The dust and noise could result in a sensory overload. Therefore, I took down my water bottle, medicine, and earplugs. And I told them that I would take it slow. That meant not going through claustrophobic, crawling caves. That meant not engaging with sifting through dirt, which had previously been an issue for me. And that meant taking more breaks than the rest of the kids. But it also meant I could still partially participate. I still helped dig, look around, and participate in the lectures. It wasn’t easy - and I’m glad my roommates graciously granted me the first shower, but yet again, by taking it slow, I was able to work through this tough situation.

I spent the rest of the week at the Yeshiva, which was a wonderful experience. The classes were engaging, and the small environment helped me thrive. Simultaneously, the war escalated. As IDF soldiers went back into Gaza, many Israelis took to the streets, including to the Agron neighborhood, which, in addition to containing the Yeshiva, also houses the Prime Minister’s official residence. This made getting back to the hostel tricky. The drop-off location that I used that morning was inaccessible due to the protest. So, along with a faculty member, I went down the street to the Mamilla Mall, where we were able to get a cab to the hostel. Another precarious situation dealt with.

The last two weeks of the trip were a repeat of what I had experienced before - hikes, tours, lectures. Getting support at this point was very well-oiled: I knew who to go to, what to ask for, and what to flag in advance. Now the trip was coming to a close, and I prepared myself for my flights home. At this point, I had a system in place. I knew I needed to avoid sensory overload the day of the flight, so when I started to feel run down, I took a break. I worked closely with a friend to work through any situation. We went through baggage claim and security first, and before I knew it, I was on the plane. Of course, I didn’t get everything right. My main issue was entertainment, and I’ve learned that Audiobooks and TV are the way to go, but so focused on the last days of the trip that I forgot to download. Still, I managed. And we landed. The trip was over.

My takeaways? Well, I’ve certainly learned how to deal with flights better and how to manage hiking. There is a takeaway I am not going to share in this blog; it is too long and it deserves its own installment, but aside from that, my main lesson was listening to my body. I’ve always emphasized the importance of this, but even more than before, I think I have grown even more accustomed to listening to my body and knowing where the limit is. The other takeaway is how critical my friends were as a support network. This is the first experience where I think my peers have been more instrumental in my success than the adult staff, that isn’t to give them credit, it’s to show how much my peers have helped. 

Thanks for following along.