We are somewhere in the Negev Desert. It is the evening of Dec. 30, and 2015 is barely more than 24 hours away. Below us is the sand and rock you would expect in a desert. Above us is nothing but stars. The only light is that of the moon—and the manufactured green light of the Bedouin camp nearby. This is Taglit-Birthright Israel: Mayanot, where Jewish young people from around the world come to discover Israel, Judaism, and ideally, themselves.

I recently participated in a unique version of such a trip. Titled #DigitalIsrael (yes, the hashtag is part of the name), the trip hit upon all of the key Birthright activities (visiting Jerusalem’s Old City, climbing Masada, riding camels, etc.), but was overlaid with the theme of technology in Israel.

We went to the Jezreel Valley Winery in Hanaton, where co-founder and chairman Jacob Ner-David—a self-described “serial entrepreneur in technology-based startups” and CEO of the messaging app “Zula”—spoke about how tradition and innovation coincide in their wine-making (for the record, all trip participants were over age 21).

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In Tel Aviv, we met Ben Lang, who has founded several Israeli-based startup companies, such as Mapped in Israel, which is an interactive map of startups in Israel. We met with other tech leaders on our trip, but what stands out to me is that both Ner-David and Lang—and their work—are not only Israeli-based, but serve to help the growth of technology within Israel.

We heard from many others as well, including Avi Mayer, spokesman to international media for the Jewish Agency; Sarah Tuttle-Singer, new-media editor at The Times of Israel; Barak Raz, a former spokesman for the Israel Defense Forces and currently corporate chief of staff of an Israel-based international holding group; and Laura Ben-David, a marketing consultant, blogger and social-media activist.

At the Jezreel Valley Winery, the group met co-founder and chairman Jacob Ner-David, who explained how tradition and innovation coincide in wine-making. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)
At the Jezreel Valley Winery, the group met co-founder and chairman Jacob Ner-David, who explained how tradition and innovation coincide in wine-making. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)

But all of this was the explicit agenda of #DigitalIsrael. Like many of my peers (now friends) on the trip, I work in technology. As a product marketing manager at Adobe, I live and breathe technology and innovation, always thinking about what’s next. Like so many people today, work never really stops because I always have my phone with me. We are a perpetually connected generation. For us, to be connected to each other is to be connected to ourselves; connectivity is part of who we are. Our identity as individuals has become inherently enriched by our interactions with others.

As a perpetrator of over-connectivity, I am the first to admit that this can be a problem. And so, on the first Shabbat of the trip, our tech-savvy rabbinical leader Rabbi Mordechai Lightstone (social-media editor of Chabad.org) challenged us to disconnect; to leave behind our phones and cameras, and for 24 hours just be here in Israel. Be really present. No swiping down to see if you had any new “Likes.” No swiping right to see if you have a new match. For many of us (myself included), that wasn’t an easy request. Our reliance on technology means that we can be anywhere except where we are right now. The second Shabbat we spent at the Western Wall (again, of course, unplugged).

And thus, a fascinating dichotomy emerges for the organizers of Birthright: How to connect visiting Jewish youth to Israel without stripping them of their connectivity to the rest of the world? I’d like to share two examples of this dichotomy that resonated with me on the trip.

Camel-riding in southern Israel, part of nearly every Birthright trip. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)
Camel-riding in southern Israel, part of nearly every Birthright trip. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)

Wi-Fi on the bus. It’s not great, and it doesn’t always work, but it’s there. Like water while hiking up Masada, Wi-Fi has become a necessity. While we were taking selfies on our phones and cameras during activities, the first thing we did when we got back on the bus was to upload them to Instagram. In fact, Birthright encourages this sharing through hashtags listed on a poster in the front of the bus. But shouldn’t we be more focused on connecting to Israel than our followers? Yes and no. As I mentioned, being virtually connected is part of our identity; without it, we aren’t ourselves. That’s the reason that at every hotel we went to, the first question was (you guessed it): “Is there Wi-Fi here?” Don’t get me wrong, it’s not necessarily a bad thing; it’s just a challenge we need to acknowledge and face on an ongoing basis.

Power outlets at the Bedouin camp. Aren’t we supposed to be in the desert? If the goal of this particular experience is to live like the Bedouins (at least, for a night), then why a power strip in the tent? Let’s face it. This wasn’t really a camp, but a tourist attraction. Which again, when you call it for what it is, it’s fine. Here we are, in the desert, and we can still connect. Electricity isn’t Wi-Fi, but it’s power nonetheless.

‘From Darkness Comes Light’

On the last night of the trip, we all shared some of our favorite moments. For many of us, it was the same. Let’s go back there now:

Tepfer speaks of the sand and rock in the desert, and the lack of Wi-Fi, though other connections are made. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)
Tepfer speaks of the sand and rock in the desert, and the lack of Wi-Fi, though other connections are made. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)

We are somewhere in the Negev Desert. It is the evening of Dec. 30, and 2015 is barely more than 24 hours away. Below us is the sand and rock you would expect in a desert. Above us is nothing but stars. There is silence. I challenge you to think, when was the last time you truly experienced real silence? Not the hum of the heater or the sounds of urban life known as “white noise.” I’m talking about the kind of silence that is almost haunting. This is the sound of the desert. That night, under the stars, that was when I really felt connected to Israel and to myself.

There is a saying that “from darkness comes light.” Though a phrase generally used to symbolize hope out of pain, it’s one that hit a much more explicit chord for me here in the desert. It’s a beautiful thing, when you think about it. Nearly 50 of us are on a trip called #DigitalIsrael, and one of the most important moments is when we are not connected—at least, in the sense of technology.

For me, that was my connection to Israel, to my heritage, to my identity as a Jew and to myself. During this exercise, we were asked to sit in a circle and then turn around so all we could see were miles of moonlit desert. It was that moment that made me feel the closest to my new friends around me. Under the stars. Wrapped in the dark. In utter silence.

Miles of moonlight in the Negev, along with its absolute darkness and silence, wind up having a profound effect on the techies, who for some of the trip really do unplug. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)
Miles of moonlight in the Negev, along with its absolute darkness and silence, wind up having a profound effect on the techies, who for some of the trip really do unplug. (Photo: Ben Tepfer)

Ben Tepfer of Boston, a product marketing manager at Adobe, participated with more than 40 young Jewish professionals and staff, including Chabad Rabbi Mordechai Lightstone, on the first-ever digital media-focused Taglit-Birthright Israel trip.