Year In Israel
By Josiah N. Gampel
As soon as I completed the last of my AP exams in my senior year at DRS, I was ready to graduate and head to camp. Since the sixth grade, I have attended Yeshivas HaKayitz in Skokie, Illinois. My time in Kayitz has always been the highlight of my year, but this summer it held special meaning, as two weeks after camp’s end I would be leaving for my gap year in Israel, where I would be learning at Yeshivat HaKotel.
When I returned home, I was surprised to find my usually unflappable self gripped by moments of anxiety. Part of my unease stemmed from the family lifecycle events I would be missing, including my cousin David’s bar mitzvah weekend and my paternal grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary party, both at the end of August. Although I could not be at these celebrations, I made sure to spend time with my cousin and grandparents before I left. My siblings and I were even able to squeeze in our annual road trip with our grandfather. (This year’s “Zaida trip” was to Montreal, where I had some of the best hot chocolate I ever tasted.)
After a very enjoyable long weekend with my maternal grandparents in Sharon, Massachusetts, the following week, it was time to finally buckle down and pack.
My older brother, Reuben, and I are 17 months and one grade apart and often make similar choices regarding our schooling. This benefited me greatly, as Reuben was able to leave much of his stuff at yeshiva for me. This made shopping for my year relatively straightforward and I needed fewer bags than Reuben took.
Before long, I was at Newark Liberty International Airport hugging my parents and sister, Reema, goodbye. (Reuben, on assignment in Israel for the 5 Towns Jewish Times, left a day earlier.)
Reuben prepared me well for these early days in yeshiva, giving me a crash course on which shiurim to join and how to structure my day. He gave me lists of local restaurants to patronize and contact information for distant relatives and friends with whom to spend Shabbat and the chagim. Although not arranged in advance, I was even assigned to his old dorm room, and, of course, made his former bed my own.
Everything sounds wonderful, especially since I was well-briefed before leaving North Woodmere and, in most ways, my transition to yeshiva life has been smooth.
I have had great luck with chavrutot, learning with guys who are intelligent, challenge me, and are good people. And yet, struggles remain.
As my Uncle Josh says, “Yeshiva isn’t a spa.” He is correct. Days start early, with davening at 7:15 a.m. now, which will become 6:45 a.m. once selichot commence. The 16-hour days in the beit medrash are long and intense, and I often find myself missing fresh air. Also, I am chronically tired, despite squeezing in a brief afternoon nap when possible. It helps that the material covered in the various shiurim I attend are well-presented and the substance engaging.
I have learned that whether you go to Israel for your gap year completely unsure of what to expect, as Reuben did, or if you inherited a veritable boatload of mesorah, along with your brother’s fan and egg crate mattress topper, as I did, the first few weeks in yeshiva are always a tough period of transition. Whenever I feel overwhelmed or homesick, I take a deep breath and gaze out the windows of the HaKotel beit midrash. I am immediately comforted, knowing that while I may not be in North Woodmere, I am still home.
Josiah N. Gampel graduated from DRS Yeshiva High School and is now learning at Yeshivat Hakotel. Josiah was chosen to receive the 5TJT Student Journalism Award in 2023.
