June 22^nd, 2016. The day had finally arrived where I would embark on the journey of a lifetime to my family’s homeland: Israel. Quickly after arriving at Newark International Airport in Newawk, New Jersey, I checked my luggage and entered a line for El Al airlines. El Al is an airline that flies directly to Israel from the mainland United States. Due to the fact that Israel is located in the heart of the Middle East, where numerous terrorists reside, and other reasons, El Al questions all of their passengers before they are allowed to board the flight in a security interview.

As a naïve 17-year-old boy, my heart raced as I waited in line. This interview was a complete culture shock as I was never questioned when boarding planes in the past. This tremor foreshadowed the two weeks that laid ahead of me. No longer would I be under the rule and protection of the U.S. government. No longer would I be in a country surrounded by allies. Now, I would be under the rule of a country surrounded by enemies. A country surrounded by hostile enemies, all of whom possessed punishing hatred for us. A country where terroristic attacks occur every day. A country where antagonistic missiles flock into the country like birds flock to the south in the winter. A country that everyone in my family, except me, called “home”.

After waiting in line for about 30 minutes, a middle-aged woman called me over to her panel for questioning. Shaking with extreme butterflies in my stomach, I walked over to her as she greeted me. She asked me various questions about my intentions on travelling to Israel and even asked if I possessed any toy weapons on my person. She asked about the group I travelled with and our purposes, whether or not I had family in Israel, my hobbies that I enjoyed doing at home, and even the subjects I appreciated learning about in school. 10 minutes into questioning, she stamped my boarding pass and I hopped on the plane; yet, I remained puzzled on why she asked some of the questions that she did.

Following an extensive, tedious 10-hour plane ride filled with hunger (I have a tree nut allergy, so I could not eat most of the food offered on the flight. I did bring an 8-pack of donuts, however, which helped me stay sane on the flight) and sleep deprivation, I disembarked at Ben Gurion International Airport, located in Tel Aviv, Israel.

In Israel, all 18-year-old citizens, male or female, must serve in the IDF (Israeli Defense Force). Since my father was born in Israel, it was a long-held misconception of mine that I was, in fact, an Israeli citizen. Therefore, I remained petrified that after talking to the immigrations officer, they would say that I had to stay in the country until I turned 18, to serve in the IDF. As I arrived at immigrations, I handed the officer my passport. He asked me why I decided to visit Israel and what I planned to do. Immediately after, he asked the dreaded question,

“Is anyone in your family from Israel?”

My face froze as my heart came up into my throat. Thoughts of the military flooded my mind and I had no clue how to answer the question.

“Uhhhh, I don’t know” I responded quickly and uneasily.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Queried the immigrations officer.

Petrified and alarmed, I quickly responded,

“Um, my Dad lived here for a few years!” Even though he lived in Israel for the first 16 years of his life.

The immigrations officer then handed me a ticket that allowed me to enter the country. My tensions subsided greatly and I was relieved to enter my family’s homeland. As I walked out of immigrations and passed through the turnstile with my ticket, I saw the sign that read “Welcome. B’rukim Habayim”. I made it to Israel.