September 14, 2024 was a hot, yet incredibly humid day in Seoul, South Korea: I am surrounded by buses, lights, and cheerful conversation. I nervously navigated to the infamous Gwanghwamun station, a station known to be the home of countless rallies, protests, and tourists. With Gwanghwamun station serving as the home base for many anti-Israel protests that are held in South Korea, I felt afraid, uneasy, and nervous that I would encounter one. I was all alone. To my surprise, there was no rally in sight. One can only imagine my sigh of relief. Charting course, I was drawn to the soulful cheers of Korean men and women proudly chanting ’Am Yisrael Chai’—the people of Israel live—echoing through the streets of South Korea. The nerves that I had felt moments before had been replaced by feelings of passion, pride, joy, and excitement.
Following the noise, I noticed “Shalom” in Hebrew and signs that called to bring the hostages taken by Hamas home. Realizing my destination, I began to shake hands and share stories with Korean men and women united by a shared love for Israel. My anxiety about being a Jew alone in a foreign country slowly faded, as I had finally found a light amidst the uncertainty. Together, we walked through the streets of Korea, holding signs of hope, singing loudly, calling for an end to Jew hatred, and encountering an Israeli-French couple who expressed gratitude and warmth for the cause I was fighting for. In a foreign country where the conflict in the Middle East seems so far away, I have never felt more at home than I did with this newfound community.
The joy, pride, and community I found at the Israel march was a defining moment of my study abroad experience. Initially enchanted by the music, food, language, and culture, South Korea was a dream study abroad destination for me. However, since October 7th, my thoughts have shifted from being less about finding fun in my life, and instead, perpetually consumed by prayers for the hostages’ safe return and combating antisemitism. I was scared to be alone, as a Jew, in a foreign country far from my Jewish friends and family. In a country of strangers, I craved community. Knowing that I was going to be in Korea on the one year anniversary of October 7th, I desperately wanted people who would share in the sorrow, pain, and loss of that dreaded day. I wanted a community I could cry with; one that did not see Zionism as a bad thing, but rather, a vital one. Luckily, I found a group that embraces my Jewish identity, calls to bring the hostages home, and supports me in the fight to secure the existence of the only Jewish state in the Middle East. The second I told them I was a Jewish American, they welcomed me with open arms, a big smile, and a comforting hug. They sang the sweet melodies of Hatikvah, both in Hebrew and Korean, and a prayer hoping that the Jewish people always stay happy and blessed. Despite having just met, I felt like I had found my home away from home. As Rabbi Siskin, the former UCLA Olami Rabbi loved to say, this was a moment of Hashgacha Pratis- divine providence- that strengthened my spirituality and Jewish identity.
“The views expressed in this post reflect the views of the author(s) and not UCLA or ASUCLA Communications Board.”
Cover image captured by Hailey Zill
