After spending five months living in Jerusalem and attending Hebrew University, I returned one month ago to the familiar, comfortable surroundings of Kansas City, my home since I was born.

The problem is that everything is a little less familiar and a little more uncomfortable than it was when I left. Other than finding the same invaluable Jewish community - which truly is unique for reasons that could fill a whole article alone - I also found that here, the reality of what is going on in Israel is not the same as it is there. The media-based, second-hand, warlike reality that exists outside of Israel has not failed to produce passion on both sides of the issue, an understanding of its seriousness and a genuine love for the state of Israel. It also has not failed to create franticness, anxiety and, above all, fear.

The phrase I have heard most often since I've been back is, "Thank God you're home!" A close second being, "I've been so worried about you!"

As I smile and struggle to be polite, I am thinking, "Could you really understand what it was like there without having experienced it yourself? How can I convince you that it wasn't simply a war zone, but a melting pot for some of the most unforgettable experiences I've ever had and incredible people I've ever met?" I even begin to laugh when I imagine what they might be picturing: a country under siege, where I left my house as little as possible and was in constant fear for my life as I walked down the street - in comparison to the picture I have in my head.

There is no doubt that the current situation, or the "matzav" as they call it, plays a major role in Israelis' thoughts, conversations and lifestyles. Most people are obsessively listening to or watching the news. People think twice before going into a crowded restaurant or getting on a bus. Everyone has learned to be perceptive of his surroundings, and no one would dare be caught without a cell phone. My friends and I found that we were constantly discussing and debating Israeli politics. We would have to force ourselves to stop, using rules such as, "no talk about the matzav for the next hour." There were nights, and even weeks when the tension was hardly bearable and the fear that is so widely felt in the states seized Israel, as well.

With that said, these aspects of life are not what comes to mind when I think about Israel or my life there. Fridays were always my favorite day of the week. Every person you bump into blesses you to have a "Shabbat shalom." In the market, on a bus, at the bank - I received and spoke this phrase hundreds of times throughout my stay in Israel. The exchange was never empty or done out of habit; rather it was said with conviction and meaning, creating an instantaneous connection between two individuals.

The weekdays held a different experience and additional insights. I think about my internship in Hadassah Hospital on Mt. Scopus. There I witnessed Jewish physicians treating sick Arab children, Arab medical residents making rounds to examine Jewish children, and Jewish and Arab families of the patients sitting together, waiting for the recovery of their loved ones.

I think about the celebration on Yom Yerushalayim and the thousands of people dancing in the streets of Jerusalem, the Old City and at the Kotel. In a sea of Israeli flags and hundreds of young and old people celebrating, I remember the man who lost his wallet and stationed himself on the corner asking everyone who passed if they've seen it. I remember thinking "There's no way he'll find it with this many people." And I especially remember my amazement when two teen-age girls produced the missing wallet, which they had picked up off the ground a block back.

I think about the blind man I saw approaching a bus stop and the young boy who noticed him and led him to the appropriate stop down the street. I think about the shop owner whose eyes watered over with gratitude, not when I purchased an item in his shop, but when he learned that I was visiting from abroad for the semester. I think about the numerous strangers who invited me in to their homes for Shabbat. I think about a pleasant day sitting outside a café on Ben-Yehudah Street, walking in the Old City or barbecuing in the park.

Those who love

Sometimes I have to remind myself that amongst all the wonderful people and amazing experiences, there was still plenty of bad. Who are all those suicide bombers that we hear about? Who are the kids who grow up learning to hate? Where are those people bringing war to a country that appears to be overflowing with love?

I had a teacher who returned from a month in the reserves and shared with the class some of his thoughts and experiences in the Israeli army. He couldn't believe how incredibly ethically the soldiers behaved. He was amazed at the methods used to ensure that Palestinian prisoners were treated humanely and that innocent people were not harmed. Hearing these things firsthand, from a teacher whom I greatly respect, made me realize the extent to which the media can contort the facts. It increased my pride in the state of Israel and my gratitude that I had the opportunity to spend time there and see reality for myself.

I saw a reality where those who hate are far outnumbered by those who love, and those who kill are far and few between those who simply want to live in peace. In my reality, it is illogical to be afraid of a place where so much good occurs every day. It is illogical to think there is no solution or no end to the difficult times in a place where the people open their hearts and homes to strangers. It is unreal to lose hope for a country in which the vast majority of residents, both Israelis and Palestinians, want peace.

After experiencing the reality that exists in Israel, I can't imagine sharing the relief felt by my friends outside of Israel that I came "home" safely. The relief and excitement I felt to return to my home in Kansas City was no stronger than the sadness and heartache that I felt while leaving what is equally my home - Israel.

It is suddenly uncomfortable in Kansas City because I am too far to capture the reality in Israel with my own eyes and ears and must resort to a media that I know cannot provide the full picture. With the most recent suicide bombings, as I'm sure will be the case with all future terror attacks, my desire to be in Israel grows stronger. There I have the chance to experience the magic of a country I love so much, in addition to the tragedy. It is my hope that more people will have the opportunity to visit Israel, to capture a reality of their own, and to experience the blessing of a peaceful Shabbat there, at home.