The summer of 2023 brought me the privilege of embarking on a life-changing journey to Israel through the Birthright program, specifically with the UNR Chabad on the Mayanot trip. As the opportunities for Birthright trips were limited, I knew I had to increase my chances, so I eagerly applied with the UNR Chabad to secure a spot on the highly sought-after Mayanot trip. To my relief, I was selected to join the adventure along with a few other members from Chabad.

Anticipation built up as the departure day approached. Before our flight to Asia, I flew down to Los Angeles with my friend Jack, and we met up with Jonah, who was hosting a farewell party before his departure as well. The atmosphere was filled with excitement and a sense of camaraderie as we connected with Jonahs childhood friends. 

The night at the party was filled with stories some even I had never heard about Jonah and it was the perfect way to start off our adventure. However, the following morning came too soon, and after a night of celebration, we all had to wake up early, around 7 am, to get ready for our long flight to Israel.

The 14-hour flight was an experience in itself. I was initially seated next to an Israeli engineer who worked with pumps. Engaging in a fascinating conversation about my capstone project and his company's precision measuring work, I was amazed at the technical expertise and dedication he exhibited. The conversation not only eased the discomfort of a long flight but also sparked an eagerness to immerse myself in Israel's unique blend of history and modernity.

Once we arrived in Israel, the energy of the group amplified as we gathered with the Mayanot trip participants. We learned that our group consisted of 40 individuals, including participants, a guide, a student guide, and a Rebbitzen. This diverse group of people quickly formed connections, and we all knew this was going to be an unforgettable journey.

The first night in Israel was spent in the northern part of the country, near the beautiful Sea of Galilee. We stayed in a kibbutz, a unique communal living arrangement where people share almost everything, creating a close-knit community. I was assigned to room with two new friends, Sam and Justin, and it didn't take long for us to bond and become inseparable throughout the trip.

The following day, we traveled to Zefat, a city known for its stunning views and rich history. We indulged in mouthwatering Israeli cuisine and learned about the mysticism of Judaism. Sam, Justin, Kim, and I took the opportunity to explore the city further, seeking out local cats and stumbling upon a kabbalist, who shared his wisdom on patterns, numbers, and their connection to the divine. It was a surreal and enlightening experience, which added to the spiritual undertones of our journey.

Later that day, we met an individual named Shalom, whose name added a touch of irony to our encounter. He continued to deepen our understanding of love in Judaism, and surprisingly, he invited the boys, including myself, to participate in a traditional Jewish ritual called the mikvah. The experience was both insightful and amusing, allowing us to embrace the cultural traditions of the land we were visiting.

As the sun set, our group made our way to Tiberias, a city located along the Sea of Galilee. While most of the group ventured to bars to experience the vibrant nightlife, I chose to explore the city, seeking out its hidden gems. Ben and I climbed to the top of a hotel, marveling at the breathtaking views of the city lights below.

The next day brought one of the most significant highlights of the trip: the arrival of eight Israeli soldiers who would accompany us throughout the journey. Breaking away from preconceived notions of soldiers, these young men and women were just like us – genuine, fun-loving individuals who shared their stories and experiences with us, creating a powerful bond.

Bar, Matan, Emit, and the last secret soldier attached to a girl from the US, quickly became like brothers to me. Bar's quiet demeanor hid a hilarious sense of humor and his ambition to become a DJ. Matan was a ball of energy, excelling in soccer and always being up to date with the latest trends. Emit impressed us all with his rap skills, yet his sensitivity and desire not to offend anyone endeared him to us. And lastly, the secret soldier, whose identity had to remain hidden for security reasons, showcased a beautiful relationship, reminding us of the power of love and connections.

While the Israeli girls were pleasant, it was the camaraderie with the guys that felt especially strong. Our time together was filled with laughter, exploring the beautiful beaches of Tel Aviv, and sharing stories that deepened our bond as we experienced Israel's rich culture.

Throughout the trip, we had several processing sessions, which allowed us to delve into the significance of being in Israel and what it meant for us, as individuals and as Jews, to connect with our heritage. These sessions were eye-opening and thought-provoking, fostering a sense of self-discovery and spiritual reflection among the group.

As we explored the rich historical sites of Israel, we visited Jerusalem, one of the holiest and most revered cities in the world. We traversed through the City of David, an ancient archaeological site, and marveled at the centuries-old history that surrounded us. But it was at the Western Wall where I experienced a profound connection like never before.

The Western Wall is the last remaining portion of the ancient Jewish temple, and it holds deep spiritual significance for the Jewish people. As I stood there, surrounded by others who were praying and reflecting, I felt an overwhelming sense of emotion and belonging. It was as if the Wall was whispering the history of my ancestors and the collective soul of the Jewish people throughout time.

Our journey took us further into the depths of Israel's rich past. We explored underground tunnels that revealed the hidden history of Jerusalem, and we walked in the footsteps of great leaders, connecting with the land and its people on a profound level.

One of the most emotionally charged experiences was visiting the Holocaust museum, Yad Vashem. The museum's design, with a long triangular hall, created an immersive experience. At the end of the hall, light poured in, representing hope and survival. However, in the middle were the main events of the Holocaust, a dark reminder of the atrocities committed during one of humanity's darkest chapters.

As I walked through the museum, viewing the personal items and clothing of those who suffered and perished, I was overwhelmed by a mixture of grief and reverence. The gravity of history hit me, and I found myself contemplating the resilience of the human spirit and the importance of remembering the past to ensure such tragedies never recur.

Amidst the history and emotional moments, we found joy in simpler pleasures as well. We ventured into the desert to spend the night under the stars. The experience of sharing stories, playing songs around the campfire, and gazing at the night sky was awe-inspiring. Ronen, our medic, had a green laser pointer that seemed to reach the very stars, adding to the magic of the night.

We continued our journey to Masada, hiking up to the top of the ancient fortress. The views from the summit were breathtaking, with the Dead Sea and the surrounding desert stretching before us. As I stood there, I couldn't help but be humbled by the vastness of the landscape and the history that unfolded in this very place.

An adventure to the Dead Sea followed, offering a unique opportunity to float effortlessly in its salty waters. The sensation of weightlessness was surreal, and one thing they won't tell you is how the salty water feels on every open pore and wound on your body. 

Our trip culminated with a visit to the site of David and Goliath's legendary battle. Standing on the same ground where history was made, we couldn't help but imagine the courage and determination that led to the iconic victory.

I arrived at the yeshiva in the evening after getting off at the wrong train stop. I was exhausted and immediately passed out—but even in that state, I could tell the place was something special. The building had marble walls, five floors, bomb shelter rooms, multiple bathrooms per level, a dining hall in the basement, and even a tiny gym. The main prayer space looked straight out of Minecraft—bookshelves lining the walls like an enchanted library.

My first day was a Thursday, and I got thrown straight into it. Chassidut felt magical but abstract, Mishnah was full-on Hebrew decoding, Q&A let you ask anything, Tanya was deep and unfamiliar, Hebrew class was intense at first, and Halacha was completely new. I felt behind—underprepared and under-Jewish—but everyone was so warm and welcoming. These guys had serious joy in their eyes, like they were genuinely excited to learn about Hashem. I knew then I was going to grow here.

I had originally planned to stay two and a half weeks, but I ended up canceling my Morocco trip to extend to a full month. Best decision I made. Meals were served three times a day, and they were legit. Absolute chaos getting in line with 40+ dudes rushing for food, but somehow still full of intention and post-meal prayers. I met my roommate Orin and Nate Bergfeld—who immediately became my bestie. He’s from Florida, heading to med school after yeshiva. The man is such a tzadik it’s crazy. We once borrowed money to buy a Hebrew book, and when he was one dollar short repaying it, he practically melted down—dude has a conscience made of gold.

The yeshiva was in the heart of Jerusalem, right across from Gan Sacher, the largest park in the city. Shabbat there was always filled with families, laughter, and some truly janky playground equipment you’d never see approved in the U.S. The Shuk nearby was a maze of chaos—candy stalls, fish vendors, bars, everything packed together in this buzzing energy. At night it turned into the spot, especially with Birthright kids and off-duty soldiers all crowding in. The Old City was a 15-minute jog from the yeshiva, and I’d go often. It never stops feeling like a living prayer. The Wall was especially grounding—being in its presence felt like aligning with something ancient and personal.

I never stopped feeling a bit out of place, but I never once felt excluded. Being Jewish connected us all in a way that words couldn’t really capture. And the city itself reflected that complexity—Jews, Christians, Muslims, Armenians, Palestinians—all living side by side. Divided, yeah. But undeniably linked.

When David Osinsky showed up, the energy dialed up. He’s a wedding photographer from Monsey—some super Orthodox town in New York I had no idea existed. Probably the most extroverted person I’ve ever met. After the first Shabbat, he invited me to Beit Shemesh to visit his family—technically cousins, decades older, but the kind of family you find in the most beautiful, weird way. We sang songs awkwardly, walked the quiet streets full of American olim, and just soaked in the small-town Jewish vibe. From the moment he arrived, I knew we were gonna cause good trouble. We crushed frisbee, hit the Shuk for nights out, and developed inside jokes that made studying borderline impossible—but worth every second.

While I was at Mayanot, three major holidays hit: Israeli Remembrance Day, Independence Day, and Lag BaOmer. Remembrance Day was powerful. At Mount Herzl cemetery, we stood silent as sirens blared and fighter jets flew overhead. One plane broke formation—it struck me hard, the symbol of someone missing, someone lost. A moment I’ll never forget.

Independence Day hit right after. The Shuk was closed down, and Jaffa Street turned into one giant dance floor. Music, DJs, crowds of people—just raw joy exploding in the street. It was all celebration and being alive.

Then came Lag BaOmer, which landed on a Shabbat. I traveled to Tzfat—my favorite city in Israel. There’s something in the mountain air, in the art and energy. It just hits your soul differently. We went to the site of Rabbi Akiva, where people danced and lit fires all night long. The tradition says he once burned people with his eyes after 12 years in a cave—it’s a wild, mystical story. The event felt ancient and alive at the same time. Singing, dancing, fire, and water—it was like stepping into a dream that smelled like smoke and holiness.

In Tzfat, I met Neshama, Maya, the other-other David, and this girl we called Violet—because she wore purple constantly and kind of lived in a fairytale world of her own making. We had these wild, philosophical conversations and met back in Jerusalem later for line dancing and karaoke. Don’t ask, just know it was pure magic.

Back in yeshiva, I was getting better at navigating the information overload. My favorite teacher was Levinger—brilliant, old soul, Yiddish first language, and somehow able to teach each student in his class on a deeply personal level. I also got close with David the Kabbalist, who was prepping for his wedding during my time there. His words had this invisible weight to them. At his farbrengen, he said something like, “Hashem doesn’t want you to be anyone else—just you.” And that hit like a freight train in the best way. He spoke about staying in yeshiva through the October 7th attacks, about growth, about love. He left a real mark on me.

Toward the end of my time, I had a 48-hour trip planned to Greece because I couldn’t cancel the hotel. Everything getting there was chaos. Security at the train station was a mess, and some guy told me there were no trains to the airport—which turned out to be wrong. I pushed through, got searched hard, left my bag at security like an idiot, sprinted back, nearly missed the train, and barely made it to my gate. The next day, my return flight got canceled. So did the second one. Turns out, Yemen had bombed Israel, and one of the missiles hit near the airport. That 25-minute delay on the airport bus? Yeah, that was because of the missile. If I’d moved just a little faster that morning, I might’ve been there when it hit. It’s hard to wrap your head around that kind of luck—or divine protection.

As my time at Mayanot came to a close, I said my goodbyes. Guys like Nate, David, Noah—they became more than just people I met. There was a spiritual bond, no other way to say it. I know the intensity of it might fade over time, but I’ll come back to this writing when I need to remember just how real and beautiful it all was. The place, the people, the faith—it’ll stick with me for life. I’ll teach my kids pieces of this one day.

No question: this was one of the top five experiences of my life. Sitting firmly at number two.

My recent trip to Chicago was nothing short of amazing. I attended the Modeling Estimation and Controls Conference, or MECC, which amusingly falls under the mechanical engineering umbrella—so the acronym could also stand for "Mechanical." The flight there was uneventful; I slept nearly the entire four hours. When we landed, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t cold in Chicago. We apparently caught the last bit of warmth before it turned windy and chilly.

I traveled with my lab colleague Burak, a legendary PhD candidate from Turkey. Burak has a fascinating background, having worked on UAVs during his undergraduate studies. Now, he collaborates with me on research involving cantilever plates and how their natural frequency changes when subjected to static or dynamic curvature during vibrations. This research has applications in aquatic locomotion; one study suggested that altering the bending of flat plates, similar to how fish maneuver, can help reduce tip vortices. 

Upon arriving at our hostel, we dropped off our bags and headed out for food. Our professor insisted we try Italian beef, so we did. It was quite soggy and messy, earning a modest 7/10 at Al’s #1 Italian Beef. Afterward, we visited Navy Pier and snapped some photos. An event was happening there, with people dressed in Halloween costumes, and the diversity we encountered was incredible—people of every race were enjoying the festivities. 

The following day marked the start of the conference. We registered at the Intercontinental, but it was clear that the organizers were not quite prepared. We attended a workshop hosted by MathWorks and Quanser, where we learned about PID controls, before heading out to explore Chicago. Our first stop was the Bean, which was overcrowded, but we pressed on to the Field Museum. The pterosaur model there was both horrifying and fascinating. It was amazing to walk through the various eras of Earth’s history and witness the extinction events, including seeing real mammoth hair. 

I met a plethora of attendees from all over the world—Slovakia, India, Iran, the UAE—everyone was incredibly friendly. I felt comfortable discussing my research without worrying about being too technical or boring. Burak presented his research brilliantly, which was a proud moment for both of us. That evening, we enjoyed drinks with my professor and his former PhD friend, learning about his life before becoming a teacher. Burak and I capped off the night with espresso martinis from the Starbucks Reserve—delicious and potent! 

The next day continued with more conference sessions. I learned a lot about battery technology, autonomous vehicles, and drone controls. I also reconnected with my good friend Collin, with whom I started a business. He treated me to dinner at an incredible Italian restaurant, and afterward, Burak and I visited the LondonHouse rooftop bar, where I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting a millionaire. Our conversation was enlightening, and he offered invaluable advice about my future aspirations. 

On our final day, Burak and I indulged in Chicago hot dogs before heading to the Medieval Torture Museum. The hot dogs were delightful, though the museum left me feeling a bit uneasy, filled with spikes and metal casts that were hard to look at. 

The trip concluded wonderfully with a flight back, where I was fortunate enough to have an empty middle seat beside me. Overall, I loved Chicago and could see myself living there if it weren’t for the cold. The people in the areas I visited were generally friendly, and I was pleasantly surprised by how non-intrusive the street vendors and homeless were. I am already looking forward to my next visit to Chicago! 

The summer of 2021 marked a turning point in my life, as COVID restrictions were easing in certain workplaces. After receiving no offers for summer internships due to work freezes, my fortunes changed when the Department of Defense reached out with an unexpected offer. Excitedly, I accepted the opportunity without knowing that this summer would be a wild adventure.

The position was located in Silverdale/Bangor, just across the water from Seattle, Washington. I set out on the journey with my newly found friend Ethan Mahoney from UNR, and we began our long drive to the north. After his departure I was ready to get started training. However, to my surprise, my security clearance was not yet accepted, leaving me in a state of uncertainty for five long weeks. During this period, I couldn't learn about the section I was assigned to or what role I would play.

To keep me occupied, they assigned me to learn various programs, including SolidEdge, Ansys, and LabVIEW. Having little knowledge of these programs, it was a challenging and tiring experience, compounded by the early mornings starting at 6 am. Nevertheless, the extra time on my hands allowed me to plan visits from friends and family. Almost every weekend, I had people coming to see me, and it brought a sense of familiarity and comfort during my time in an unfamiliar place.

Once I finally got into the office, I was introduced to a wonderful team conducting environmental testing. The work environment was unique and interesting, as phones were not allowed inside the building due to security reasons. This restriction allowed me to immerse myself fully in my work for eight hours a day, free from distractions and external influences.

As time passed, the routine grew repetitive, and I found myself pondering the purpose of my presence there. During this introspective phase, I began to frequent the YMCA and started listening to motivational speeches. The power of motivational speakers struck a chord with me, and I realized that I wanted to become a speaker myself. This summer of solitude became a journey of self-discovery, and I started to appreciate the aspects of my life that I had taken for granted.

While struggling with being alone, I confronted my innermost thoughts and learned more about myself than I ever expected. One of the most impactful moments was when my best friend, Anthony, visited. I was torn between making emotional decisions and logical decisions. Anthony's wisdom left a lasting impression as he said, "You have emotional decisions and you have logistical decisions, but the next step is having decisions that are both."

When my time in Seattle eventually came to an end, I returned to Reno with a newfound mindset and a deeper understanding of what an internship truly meant. Though the summer presented its challenges, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything, as it taught me invaluable lessons about myself and allowed me to embark on a path towards personal growth and fulfillment. This summer was a transformative chapter in my life, and I will forever cherish the memories and the discoveries I made along the way.