Hey ya’ll! My name is Zoie Wittenberg, I am 14–but my birthday is in less than a week– and I am from Atlanta, Georgia. This is my first summer on an NCSY summer program; so far, I am having the Best. Summer. Ever. Each beach that we visit is more stunning than the previous, and every historical site is awe inspiring; to think that a couple thousand years ago enemies of the Jewish nation–my forefathers–roamed the same squares that are now filled with a group of aspiring Jewish teenagers is purely mind boggling.
While in Santorini last week, Rabbi Lashak gave a dvar Torah in which he mentioned that Greece merited nine tenths of the world’s portions a beauty after Yefet covered his father Noach’s drunk, passed out, naked body. However, unlike Yefet’s older brother Shem, Yefet covered Noach’s body because he felt that the magnificence of the human body should not be exposed at such a low point. Yefet deserved a reward fit for his desires and beliefs, therefore, Hashem rewarded Yefet with the beauty the he praised; his descendants, the Greeks, merited nine tenths in the world. After seeing even one city in Greece, that is apparent.
Sunday morning we boarded a ferry to the Cycladic Island of Milos. The breathtaking beauty was visible even through the seawater splattered, fogged windows of our ferry as we docked at the port. The air smelled fresh and clear especially after breathing in the city air of Athens all of Shabbat followed by the cramped boat air. I looked around, no stared around. Milos was easily the most magnificent, awe striking place that I have ever been. The beaches are either covered in multicolored smooth pebbles or silky, fine sand. Mountains splattered in greenery line the sky as far as the eye can see in one direction and crystal clear blueish green water spotted in small white capped waves in the other. A picture of Milos should most definitely be next to the definition of perfect in the dictionary. We spent the afternoon hanging out at the beach, riding tubes at 200 kilometers per hour (I am American; I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds fast), and driving peddle boats a little bit too far out into the sea. But the best time on the island was yet to come.
Monday morning we drove to a more remote beach with soft, smooth sand and, in shifts, were shuttled on small motor boats to two big, open air sail boats. Just sitting there, with the boat anchored 100 yards from the shores not even moving, we could see miles of clear water and rocky layers of cliff on the island behind us. Then we pulled out, Music blasting and wind howling, into the open sea. Wow! The beauty was so breath taking, so stunning I couldn’t figure out where to look. All I could say was, “Guys, are you looking at this? No, for real, look!”
Bari and a small group of girls including myself took the opportunity to meditate. We sat in the shade with our eyes closed and breathed picturing our exact location with the only difference being that in our heads, we were the only soul in miles. When we opened our eyes, everything was clearer, brighter, more beautiful. We sat and spoke about Judaism and remaining calm until the boat stopped.
We were informed that if we wanted to swim, we could grab a snorkel or just jump. I spent the next ten or so minutes cracking up at my friends doing flips of the side of the anchored boat and taking videos and pictures. Then it was my turn. I jumped. My body felt a rush of cool, clear sea water. Not only was it a thrill, but I had an epiphany. Only The Master of the Universe could create such wonder.
We swam on through a tunnel into an open cove full of schools of small fish, crabs, and endless boulders covered in seaweed. We swam back around through another tunnel, this time, every one was more dispersed swimming at different paces and taking time to look at different things. I found myself with only a couple of other people swimming through the short tunnel. I slowed down to look at the rocks. There were little crabs crawling about and water trickled from the walls. I pulled my snorkel over my eyes and peered into the water. “Guys, do you mind giving me a minute alone?” I hung back while they swam towards to boat. The water was so crystalline, and the rock that was eroded into the tunnel that I swam through was so diverse. The layers of rock were each such a different color; some were white while others were chocolaty brown and more still made up every shade in between. The rock had to have been millions of years old. I looked back into the water as a school of little sparkly blue fish swam by. The boulders beneath me must have been infested with sea life. Everything was in its Gd given place. It was perfect. I took a deep breath above water and dunked back under. It was time for me to talk to my Creator, the universe’s Creator. Little bubbles flowed from my mouth as I thanked Gd for giving me the opportunity to see such natural beauty. It isn’t every day that you see something that confirms your belief in Heaven. Monday was that day for me. Seeing the fish and crabs in their natural habitat, no doubt surrounded by their predators, but still managing to survive throughout the years healthfully and happily; the hundreds of thousands of years worth of rock buildup formation cascading downward in a majestic manner; and water fresher, clearer, and cleaner than any other salt water body that I have ever seen inspired me to believe in Gd, Melech Malchei HaMalachim. Never in my life have I ever been so certain about anything, let alone my belief in The One Above. As I thanked and praised Gd for perfecting His creations and bringing me to this unbelievable place, I also asked Him for something. I asked Him to allow everyone in this world to find a place like that little nook off the shore of Milos to rediscover Him, to be inspired, to confirm their alliance with Him.
The irony only hit me later: I am in one of the most anti-Semetic countries in the world, a country that has prosecuted Jews countless times over the centuries, the most physically beautiful place in the world feeling inspired to do more of the very things that past generations of Jews were punished for doing. I am in Greece. The land blessed with solely physically beauty seeing Yad Hashem. I guess everyone has to have that one place–whether it be in their head, their bedroom, a forest, or off the shore of Milos–that convinces them to appreciate the One Above. I guess that for me it is here in Milos. I see that Gd fulfilled His promise to Yefet: He gave his children the beauty that Yefet admired. It is up to us to see that everything, even the most unspiritual seeming places in the world, come from Gd.