In May 2005, I was able to go on an all paid 10 day trip to Israel with a group of peers, mostly from the University of Michigan. I wasn't sure I'd be eligible, since I'd been to Israel many times before. I'd also attended a journalism conference there in 2003, but off I went. It was a great trip. I really liked the people. It was organized by Mayanot, which is affiliated with Chabad. I actually thought that I shouldn't wear shorts in Israel in May because it wasn't modest enough. That turned out to not be an issue. Years later, I was living in San Francisco and applied to staff a Birthright Trip, with Israel Outdoors. The trip was in December 2015. My relationship at the time was highly dysfunctional, and I admit I was distracted much of the time. But still, I thought it went pretty well. My co-leader and I also didn't get along very well. She yelled at me a lot. When I tried to lead the trip again, I was given negative feedback and denied. I had heard about the Birthright Israel Fellows, a group of elite Birthright staffers. The program included a training week in Chicago. I had applied a few times and hadn't gotten in. I applied once more and was accepted. The requirement was to lead 3 Birthright trips within 5 years. I was excited to keep leading, and to keep visiting Israel, where I have family on both sides. I wanted to combine my next Israel trip with one to Italy, to meet more of my extended family (I am 11% Italian!). It was summer 2017 and the only trip I could find where the dates worked out was one called Sachlav. It was an organization I hadn't heard of before. My co-leader was based in LA. We had a few conversations leading up to the trip and I was feeling good. But once we arrived in Israel, the problems began. We had a woman on the spectrum who was dealing with intense anxiety. A mosquito bite would send her to the hospital. Another woman was bullying other participants into changing their room assignments, so she could be with her friends. There were bedbugs. People were getting sick. and the worst part was that we had an alcoholic man who continued to break the rules. He showed up to the events drunk, and one night he didn't come to our meeting spot, and we had to search for him for hours, while everyone waited. We eventually found him passed out on a bench. I was livid. I hadn't signed up for this nonsense. I wasn't qualified to deal with it. There were 40 young adults in their mid 20s and 3 of us to handle everything. I was trying my best, but I was losing it. I kept contacting the office to tell them what was going on, and ultimately I was blocked from further communication. I felt abandoned. Why was no one listening to me? On day 7 of the trip, the group went to the Wailing Wall, a holy place. The organizer asked to meet with the group. I was dumbfounded when he began scolding everyone for not pulling their weight and showing up. What was he talking about? Just get rid of the alcoholic! But he didn't. We got on a bus to the Negev, a 2 hour drive from Jerusalem. My 34th birthday was the next day, and we were scheduled to ride camels and go to the dead sea. I had been looking forward to it the whole trip. As we approached the Negev, the tour guide stopped the bus and asked to speak with my co-leader and me. He'd gotten word from the office and they had decided to kick the alcoholic off the tour. I was relieved, although frankly confused why they'd waited for us to leave the city. Nothing new had occurred that day, and there had been ample opportunity to kick him off earlier. Then I was informed that I would have to be the one to take him back and get him to the airport. This was like adding insult to injury. I was the one who had complained about him and now they were going to force me to deal with him, and miss my birthday on the trip. We were at the end of the 7th day of our 10 day trip. I was furious. I refused. I was told I had no choice. That's when I went up to this guy, smoking a cigarette outside and said, "Fuck you. You've ruined this trip for me." And that was the moment that I got myself kicked off, as a staff member. As a Birthright Fellow. It was all over. They sent me back to Jerusalem in a taxi. I cried the whole way. the driver could barely speak English and he tried to comfort me. I'd already had a year from hell. My narcissistic boyfriend and I had broken up and I was lost and sad. I got to my aunt and uncle's house in Jerusalem. I woke up the next day, on my birthday and went to Tel Aviv. A friend from Sydney had generously offered to let me stay with her in her hotel. She worked at Google and they were putting her up. It was very nice, but her room didn't have a single window. I was depressed, on my birthday, in a windowless room. I walked outside and cried. I walked the streets and cried. I tried to eat. I went into shops and overshared. I walked along the beach, trying to feel better. A local guy started talking to me, flirting. I was sad and it was my birthday, so I agreed to a drink. Afterwards, I went swimming while he waited by the sand. It was getting dark. I looked up, and I noticed my recent ex walking by. I couldn't believe it. What were the chances he would be there, in the same place as me, on that day of all days. I said his name and he looked over at me, and said, "oh boy." He was with a woman and they kept walking. I had tried very hard to hurt him in the months prior, so I understood, but it still stung. All of it did. I began to shake, and had to go back to the windowless hotel room, where I'd spend the next 24 hours. The light in my life had been dimmed. I was told I couldn't lead a Birthright trip ever again. I'm traumatized by what happened and I haven't been to Israel since.