After one year of war, the students of Israel's North are still displaced

The valley below us was draped in the usual autumn yellows of northern Israel. The dry climate would soon give way to the crisp winter air that quickly converges on the Galilee. But for now, the sun was shining brilliantly over the Golan Heights, flooding the land with spectacular September sunshine.

“I can’t believe you live just 15 minutes away,” I told my friend Yakir in astonishment.

“Neither can I,” Yakir replied with his typical devil-may-care smile.

If there ever were a paradise, it would most likely carry the sentiments of that day.

Hezbollah opens fire

Two weeks later, while the country was still pushing back the southern Hamas incursion while attempting to assess the atrocities already inflicted on the people of Israel, Hezbollah opened fire along the northern border.

Tens of thousands of Israelis were instructed to flee their homes adjacent to this border, including Yakir and 6,000 other students from Tel Hai College, situated near Kibbutz Kfar Giladi, north of Kiryat Shmona and just two and a half miles (4 km.) from Hezbollah’s line of sight.

The following account represents an honest reflection of these students’ year-long experience of being forced to leave the paradise they attempted to cultivate for themselves, a paradise now marred by a slow and bloody conflict which has only very recently taken a dramatic turn toward full-blown escalation.

Through the raw experiences of the following three Tel Hai students – Yakir, Naama, and Tomer – I hope to portray the reality of 6,000 young Israelis forced to leave their newly established lives for uncharted ones of unwanted uncertainty.

Yakir Stuchinsky, 25, Golan Heights/Gaza/Haifa

“I was in Bulgaria with my girlfriend, Morr, when it happened. We were in the Balkan Mountains, hiking in the sunshine and simply enjoying our holiday. In truth, most of Oct. 7 was a good day until the evening, when we reconnected our phones and saw the news, coupled with the ominous messages that came from my reserve unit’s WhatsApp group. Morr was more affected by that day, as she lost family friends who lived near the Gaza border.

“We tried to get back on the first available flight, and after five days we finally managed to hitch a ride on an El Al plane, standing next to the flight attendants during the journey. When we landed, we traveled straight to our families to touch base with them. From there, I regrouped with my Egoz reservist unit in the northern Golan Heights, where the elite commando unit is designed to operate, specializing in Lebanese terrain and anti-guerrilla warfare.

“I returned to Kiryat Shmona during our military preparations to water the plants, as if we were soon going back home. When I was in the city, the heavy rocket fire that rained down on me indicated otherwise.

“Two months of tenuous reserve duty in the North, followed by three months of nonstop combat in Gaza, did not erode my belief that we were soon going to get the job done and go home. But as the service in Gaza came to an end, I finally understood that there was no longer a home for me to return to. Kiryat Shmona and the surrounding region had now become a bitter war zone.”

Finding a temporary home

“I had to find a new home for Morr and me. We decided to relocate to Haifa, as it was close to my parents and some good friends, so we could still find a sense of home in a familiar setting. We signed a six-month apartment lease, which emphasized our belief at the time that we would soon return to the North. Six months of living in Haifa did not equate to even one day in the home we had made for ourselves in Kiryat Shmona.

“We had nothing but a few clothes with us. All our domestic possessions were left in the North. Luckily, the kind residents of Haifa provided us with everything we lacked. The empathy and solidarity they gave us was tremendous, but it was no substitute for being at home with our things and memories.

“I spent those six months continuing my psychology degree on Zoom while starting a security-based position at Intel. Morr started instructing Pilates, and we simply tried to establish a healthy routine amid the madness of this war reality. It was difficult to do so, for the imminent and inevitable full-scale war with Lebanon was constantly on our minds, especially on mine.

“As our six-month lease ended, we understood, in a sad sort of reluctance, that our foreseeable future is not in the North. Returning to our home will take time, so we decided to find a more permanent place in Haifa and further solidify our new lives here.”

Standing our ground

“The new dire reality of rockets constantly raining on Haifa is a further indication that there is nowhere to hide from this war.

“We cannot run from our enemies, for they will not stop pursuing us. It is a zero-sum scenario.

“Our existence here isn’t a geographic issue, it is a racial one that has been a constant threat to us throughout history. And so, we need to stand our ground in order to continue prospering in the land of our forefathers. This is the only path forward.

“I am very much waiting for the day to take up arms once more and fight for the North. I am not fighting for my ideals alone, but for the ability to return home, water my plants, and establish my future in the North with Morr.”

Naama First, 25, Mevaseret Zion/India/Thailand

I contacted Naama on a WhatsApp video call all the way to the sandy beaches of Goa, India. She has not been in Israel for the past six months.

“On October 6, I left Kiryat Shmona to spend the holiday [Simchat Torah] with my family in Mevaseret Zion, after organizing my upcoming year. I was so excited to begin this new chapter of my life. It has always been a dream of mine to live in the Hula Valley, Israel’s little northern paradise.

“When Oct. 7 happened, I was completely shocked by the number of people ripped out of our country. I lost touch with reality from so much grief. Only later, I realized I was not going to start this new chapter of mine.

“The first two months were lost in an uncontrollable reality. I had waited for so long to start this new chapter in the North, and I was truly struggling to understand where I’m now headed.

“I had my heart set on the North and could not see myself anywhere else. I constantly felt like a refugee, no matter where I tried to relocate my life, even at my parents’ home. After three years of traveling around Israel and the world, I had been elated to settle down in the place that I felt was for me.”

Out of focus

“The first semester [at Tel Hai] was very difficult. I was constantly surrounded by the Oct. 7 massacre, the war, and the hostages in Gaza. I could hardly focus. This was my first time in academia, and although it was a needed platform of escapism from reality, the courses were instructed via Zoom, and it was so difficult to internalize the studies this way.

“Tel Hai excels at frontal teaching and good interpersonal communication. These were some of the main reasons to study at Tel Hai, and the Zoom teachings nullified them completely.”

Finding a balanced reality elsewhere

“It was an idea of mine that I’ve turned over in my mind many times. I was concerned about leaving Israel during the war, along with my loved ones. On the other hand, I was no longer the person I once was. I wanted to regain control over my life.

“The state of war at the time created an impossible reality for me. I could not keep my life on track, and I understood that a change had to be made for my own future. I had get myself back on my feet.

“I decided that India was the best place to start. It’s budget-friendly and full of Israelis to connect and create a sense of community with.

“I cried on my way out of the airport terminal as I passed the hostage posters one by one. Leaving them behind was one of the hardest experiences of my life.

“The first month was filled with consolidating my new reality. The war’s impact was still deeply entrenched within me, but I finally had the time and mental space to reflect on my own life and how I can persevere through this difficult chapter.

“I simply wanted to live in places I had previously been on my trip to India and Thailand in 2022, and so I relocated every new month to somewhere I knew would feel a little bit like home, along with good people around me.”

Healing

“My grades improved, and I finally started enjoying my chosen degree of social work. I was focused, and I was balanced. Even though Zoom wasn’t an ideal learning experience, it was a healthy routine that helped me process my reality, along with the peaceful setting of India’s luscious green valleys or Thailand’s sandy white beaches.

“I wasn’t the only student in Southeast Asia; many of them came from Tel Hai just like me, hoping to find solace in comfort while furthering their ambitions, be it sociology, psychology, or computer science. Everyone here is either attempting to find a new home or perhaps just traveling and exploring like Israelis often do.

“Many of the Israelis here are Supernova survivors, fighters from Gaza, orphans, or bereaved siblings. India and Thailand have served as a place of refuge and healing.”

Eternal home

“With all the pain and hardship of leaving, Israel is my eternal home. I have found new strengths in Asia to process and endure these hard times, but my heart has never left my country and the people that I love so dearly. I ultimately had to give my heart the ability to regain its pulse and return much stronger than before. Only then could I come back home as myself. Only then can I devote my newfound energy to heal others and help them come through this difficult time.

“Studying social work throughout this challenging period in our country has highlighted the importance of supporting disaster-affected communities such as the ones from the South and the North. These Israelis, suffering from deep trauma, are constantly dependent on the attention and care of social workers. That is the person I want to be.”

Naama was to return to Israel during Sukkot, as Tel Hai College has recently reopened frontal teaching in several university campuses across the country.

Tomer Belorai, 26, Binyamina/Gaza/Zichron Ya’acov

I called Tomer at his military base, several miles outside of the Gaza Strip. He had an hour to spare for me before entering Gaza with his tank battalion once more.

“I had spent the year before Oct. 7 in Kiryat Shmona, studying psychology on Zoom in the Open University, with the aim of transitioning to Tel Hai the following year, and so the North was already my home before Hezbollah started firing on it.

“There wasn’t really any time to assess the situation, as I was immediately called up for reserve duty. After three weeks of military preparation, I suffered a bad head-on vehicle collision while on duty. After being discharged from the hospital, I had to return to my parents’ home in central Israel, seeing as my home was now desolate.

“I was in shock during my long two months of healing. I was practically a zombie during that time. It took me a while to understand that I needed to move out and change my scenery. I gathered my things, bought myself a secondhand car, and moved to Jerusalem. The transition felt like a fish that had jumped straight from a pond into an ocean.

“It was essential that I understood the right direction forward. Until that point, I was very dependent on the people and places around me. During this period of uncertainty, when everything was so dynamic and could be gone in a moment, I needed to find my own way forward. Jerusalem taught me how to stand on my feet and be the master of my own fate.”

Born again

“This interim period was a real rebirth of sorts. I had this desire of returning to familiar ground, which I found with Eyal, a dear friend of mine. I lived with his family in Zichron Ya’acov for a couple of months. He was like a brother to me, and his family supported me in a way that provided me the strength to find a new balance in life and understand the reality I was living.

“Seeing my mental state progress, I decided to stay in the area and found a rental unit in the small town of Binyamina close by. I felt that my mental state and injuries had recovered enough for the return to military service. I should have stayed away from combat for a few more weeks, but I was determined to regroup with my fellow brothers in arms fighting through the dense, volatile neighborhoods of Gaza.

“I spent the spring and summer months of 2024 in and out of Gaza, retreating to the comfort of Binyamina and the nearby family I had in Eyal. I found that this balance gave me purpose going forward, while surrounding me with good people. I felt like I managed to fulfill my purpose in Gaza while recharging myself in Binyamina.

“After a stop-start first semester, I finally managed to regain a foothold in my university studies in psychology and find the right head space to focus and learn. I was, at one point, on the verge of dropping out, but Tel Hai College was extremely attentive and did everything in its power to make sure I didn’t give up on my dream of being a child development psychologist.”

Helping the next generation

“I love children. I think that children are a real wonder. They live in this magnificent world of their own, and I want to understand their world and use this understanding to relate to them and help them process the difficult challenges they are facing now and in the future. The war will raise a troubled youth that will need a lot of guidance to channel their experiences to a harmless and even beneficial medium.

“I am now finishing my second tour in Gaza and planning to build a new chapter with the people closest to me, starting my second year of studies in Haifa, albeit by Zoom. I feel good. I feel like this past year has affected me deeply, as it has everyone.

“I did my best to handle the difficult situation that we, as a nation, are currently in, and simply reduce the mental and physical toll it took and is still taking on me and everyone else in Israel and abroad.

“We have to help each other get up. The people around me gave me the strength to carry on. The same can be said for everyone in Tel Hai, everyone in the North, and everyone in Israel. Only by holding each other upright can we face these immense challenges as one strong unit.”

Missing home

“The streams, the hills, the valleys – I miss it all. Every element. The simple reality that engulfed me. We were living the dream, and it was torn away from us.

“We, as students, struggle at times to voice our longing for the North, for we were only there for such a short time. But we chose to live our lives out of love and passion, and that passion still burns in us all. We chose to relocate to the edge of the country and called it our Garden of Eden, and one cannot simply forget such a place.

“I am a true believer in returning to the North. I want to go back and resettle and reestablish my life there. My year of living in Kiryat Shmona was the most stable and complete time of my life. I can’t wait to return home.”

Three stories out of thousands. Six thousand young students roaming Israel and the world, attempting to deal with reality, all the while waiting for Israel’s security forces to make good on their promise and reopen the gates of paradise, providing these hopeful young Israelis with a pathway back to their northern homes. 