Whitney Harris-Linton stood under the Eiffel Tower as it shimmered at night in the city of love. She heard the deep chimes thundering from Big Ben. The special education senior even went to the attic in the Netherlands where Anne Frank spent years hiding during World War II.
Still, after seeing 17 European countries in 2005, Harris-Linton was tired of running away from the pain caused by a horrific accident that had destroyed her best friend's life six months earlier.
As she backpacked around Europe following a study abroad trip, the special education senior from West Bloomfield thought her travel itinerary was incomplete.
"I just felt I needed to go to Israel," said Harris-Linton, who is Jewish. "Something was missing."
That trip, which propelled her to make another visit to Israel during winter break, changed her life.
Jewish MSU students share similar experiences as they travel to Jerusalem. To some, it's seeing the ancient history of their holy land. To others, it's being part of a religious majority for the first time in their lives.
For Harris-Linton, Israel was where she found her faith again.
Life-altering tragedy
Patrick is dead.
Patrick is dead.
Those were the words Patrick Bement's sister, Kassie, kept hysterically repeating on the telephone.
Harris-Linton couldn't fathom the news about the car accident that left one boy in the hospital and supposedly killed 17-year-old Patrick.
The Bement siblings and Harris-Linton were best friends growing up and spent summers together in Charlevoix.
"We'd spend hours wandering through the woods and playing in the sand dunes," Harris-Linton said. "He loved hanging out with us, even though he pretended he hated girls."
She even joked about marrying him some day.
As Patrick's funeral neared, there was more unspeakable pain, when doubt surfaced about whether it was indeed his body at the funeral home.
After a police investigation, Harris-Linton, who was then an MSU sophomore, learned that a mix-up had taken place — Patrick was in a coma at the hospital with severe brain trauma, while the other passenger in the car was dead.
Although he survived the crash, Patrick wasn't the same person. Harris-Linton said he now lives in a group home, unable to care for himself because of his brain injury. She struggled to come to terms with losing her friend — at least as she knew him — when she returned to MSU.
"I didn't understand how God could let this happen," said Harris-Linton, who contemplated dropping out of college.
And that was how, less than six months after the accident, she found herself on a whirlwind tour of Europe, and realized she needed to go to Israel.
Suburban religion
Growing up in Farmington Hills — an area known for its large Jewish population — Lisa Buch felt disenchanted with Judaism.
Even though she attended Hebrew school and went to synagogue with her father, the psychology junior felt like she was only "going through the motions" when she spoke the Hebrew prayers, in an ancient language she didn't understand.
"Part of the problem in the suburbs was I never really felt connected to Judaism," Buch said. "Religion has never been a big part of my life. I don't know if it's because of living in America or if it's just who I am."
Traveling to Israel is a chance for Jewish students to experience life in a place where the majority of the people share the same religion, culture and sometimes even look the same, said Cindy Hughey, executive director for the Hillel Jewish Student Center, 360 Charles St.
Hughey recruits 80 Jewish MSU students each year to go to Israel with Taglit-birthright israel, a program that gives young adults a free trip to the country. "It helps Jews connect to their roots," Hughey said. "It gives them a greater connection to the land of Israel."
During a small, woman-led service in Jerusalem, Buch watched as the congregation sang together without any music. The intimate worship was so moving that some closed their eyes during the singing.
"I couldn't help but be put under a spell, like it was hypnotizing," she said. "I've never felt like that before."
But unforeseeable events in Israel changed her summer.
MSU officials decided to cancel Buch's study abroad trip to Israel more than halfway through the program, once violence broke out elsewhere in the country between Hezbollah guerrillas from Lebanon and Israeli forces.
While the eight other students returned to the United States, the 19-year-old stayed in Jerusalem. She didn't want to leave the country and its people, Buch said.
Even though she was thousands of miles from her family in Farmington Hills, Israel seemed like home.
"It was the way I felt, how comfortable I was. I just identified with a place for the first time in my life," she said. "I felt like Israel was my country."
Harris-Linton, who shares the same longing for Israel as Buch, has spent the last two Hanukkahs there.
"In Israel, I saw one Christmas tree the entire time I was there," the 22-year-old said. "To be in a city where your holiday is the main holiday is a different experience."
Menorahs illuminate the narrow cobblestone streets of the holy city, and dreidels hang from the ceiling instead of Christmas decorations.
Harris-Linton spoke of a friend's memorable trip to a bank. The bankers suddenly put down their work at the end of the day and turned to the people still standing in line and invited them to light candles for the Jewish holiday.
"No matter where you are," Harris-Linton said, "if someone is lighting candles, they'll invite you to join."
In the hours before Shabbat — the Jewish Sabbath — the city of Jerusalem hurries to get ready. As soon as the sun sets Friday evening, most of the city shuts down. People don't work — which means no cooking, driving or even using electricity.
"It helps people take a step back from life," Harris-Linton said.
To prepare for Shabbat, people rush to the outside market to buy bread and food for the next 25 hours. An alarm rings throughout parts of the city, reminding people that the Sabbath is almost there. Taxi drivers warn their passengers they will stop on the side of the road once Shabbat begins.
"It's amazing in Israel because a large percentage of people in Jerusalem are celebrating Shabbat," Harris-Linton said. "Everyone is doing the same as you."
And spending time in the Jewish holy city has helped her become reacquainted with God.
"(Israel) helped me … come to terms with why my best friend is in a vegetative state and why bad things happen to good people," she said. "There has to be some order to the world. Everything happens for a reason."
Back to regular life
For Buch, going to Israel was one piece of the puzzle, one answer to many questions about her religion.
While she was abroad, Buch felt more connected to her faith as she joined other Jews in worship. But once back in the United States, she lost most of her passion for Judaism.
But she hasn't given up — she's still searching for more, such as when she goes to Hebrew classes at MSU to learn the language so she can decipher the meaning behind the Jewish prayers.
"Nothing is ever a closed book," Buch said.
Just like Buch, Harris-Linton finds it tougher to practice her religion back at MSU. It's hard to observe the Shabbat, she says, because there isn't a bigger community around her taking part.
"I'd have to sit by myself and read a book," Harris-Linton said.
Yet, her time in Israel was valuable. One experience that lingers is a day she visited the Western Wall, otherwise known as the Wailing Wall, which is considered the holiest spot in Judaism.
She remembers sitting by the Western Wall, writing in her journal, thinking how far she had come since 2004. And, for the first time since Patrick's accident, Harris-Linton said she felt at peace.
"I used to just think it was a wall, but once you're there it's a very emotional experience," she said. "It's one of the places you can connect with God while you're there."
