Since I last wrote I’ve been in two countries, walked tens of thousands of steps and have visit sites ranging from beautiful mountains to somber memorials. So, now that we are in the groove of things how does this trip impact me - an Autistic person?
Let’s starting with a note about hiking. No trip to Israel is without a good hike or two and my trip is no exception. Previously, I wrote about my preparation for Masada, now, up North I dealt with two hikes. Both taught me a lot. The first was in the Carmel Mountains at a site called Little Switzerland, it started off as a pretty tame hike but the second half was more challenging. The path up turned into rock climbing. Because of a, long day of touring and limited experience with climbing, and possessing a large body, this was difficult. Yet again some of the strategies I used at Masada came into play - I paced myself, drank water and most important kept a positive attitude. I summoned all my strength and I made it to the top of the trail. I don’t think I’ll do this hike again, it isn’t exactly my cup of tea, but it was worth it and it is a moment I am proud of.
Two days later we got to choose our hike from three options. I chose an easy hike on Mount Meron. By choosing this easy hike I didn’t need to worry about pacing or general energy levels - I didn’t feel pressured by my peers, instead I was able to live in the moment and appreciate the beautiful view. I was shocked by how much I was enjoying myself. I didn’t expect that this hike was going to be one of the highlights of the week, but the immersive, relaxing experience in nature was worth it. This reinforced my view that hiking wasn’t about difficulty, everyone has their own pace, but about taking it in. I looked back to the hike on the Carmel. The views were beautiful but I never got to appreciate them because I was more concerned about keeping up with the group. This was useful for me later in the trip - I would prioritise hikes where I could go at my own pace rather than keeping up with others.
While hikes were a great highlight for me, as I expect on any trip I ran into some difficult moments when I received sensory overloads. Luckily, especially since this past summer, I have become far more equipped with dealing with them. But I faced a familiar challenge - communicating with those who didn’t understand what I was going through. My first major overload was in our hotel room - I was exhausted from a long day and could not process the noise outside. I froze. My friends, well intentioned didn’t know what to do. They were unsure if I was pranking them or having an actual overload. This is unfortunately a common problem with sensory overloads - people aren’t often sure what they are seeing and so it can take time for someone to take action. Still, they got a teacher relatively fast and the teacher helped me by getting me water and helping me take my medication. This was what I exactly needed to do. And while there is no ideal time for a sensory overload, late at night, before going to sleep is best as it allowed me to quickly go to sleep and so thankfully by the next day the overload’s effects had worn off.
A week later, I had a very interesting overload after trying the VR activity at the Shimon Peres Center for Innovation. Looking back now I could have approached this better. I knew I was entering uncharted territory with VR. But, foolishly I decided to participate without communicating what to watch for with a staff member. After the VR I was disoriented and had a disassociation sensory overload (check out my blog series on sensory overloads for more about how that is like for me!). And then, as the bus unloaded at our new hotel I got another more intense episode of freezing and shaking. Because students and counselors were leaving the bus I wasn’t noticed for several minutes. Luckily, our medical coordinator Arbel came to help and he had experience with dealing with sensory overloads. He found a method to communicate with me despite my frozen state and within minutes I was able to take my Xanax, water and get off the bus. For those wondering at home, he asked me yes-or-no questions and I answered by blinking. It’s a system I aim to use in the future. Unlike my first incident, this sensory overload didn’t come at an ideal time. I was already in a sensory-rich space and it was very busy in the lobby. While I eventually got checked in my room it came at a price, the next day I wasn’t able to finish the busy day of activities, as I had another sensory overload, albeit not as intense as the evening prior, and I took the next day completely off.
While it was frustrating to miss one and a half days of activities including an important visit to hostage square, this rest time was a blessing in disguise. It allowed me to get extra sleep and prep time before my flight to Poland.
And then, on a rare cold Tel-Aviv morning I woke up at 1:30 AM, I walked with my Madrich Gavi through baggage claim and security, I boarded my flight last and I put on my headphones. So far so good. And for the first time in years, I got through the flight without any type of sensory overload. I was shocked - how did it happen? I finally found a system that allowed me to get through a flight comfortably, and that as an Autistic person isn’t a given. I was even more shocked when I repeated this a second time on our return flight. This time I didn’t have one and a half days of rest, I had just finished a packed day of touring in Warsaw. But, using a similar strategy, of making it through baggage and security slowly I made it to our plane without a sensory overload. And it wasn’t like the Polish airport staff were angels - the security gave me an aggressive pat-down. But, I think the help of my Madrich and the two hours waiting at the gate allowed me to acclimate to my flight. There is one other factor I want to mention. On both flights the aircrew were incredibly patient, kind and helpful. This isn’t a given, many overworked attendants are not helpful, but I was treated with respect the entire journey. For the first time in a while, I enjoyed my flight and I left Ben-Gurion optimistic for my trip home.
I want to end with a reflection on Poland, and this isn’t through an Autistic lens, it’s just me. There isn’t much you can put into words after visiting empty synagogues, the ruins of gas chambers and mass graves in the forest. All you feel is a rush of numb emotion. You are cold but not from the temperature. But I was also proud, I bore witness, I stood and prayed and I renewed my commitment to my people and to the world to never let this happen again. My final act on Polish soil was that of joining a minyan of Orthodox men from Israel, it was empowering. And it reminded me of why Judaism and Jewish community is so important to me, often feeling left out, Judaism is the great equalizer, it brings me as an integral part of the minyan, it calls on me to learn and grow and it places me in the center of a mission far greater than me. Am Yisrael Chai!
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