One Year Later: Reflections on the Tragedy of October 7th
September 24, 2024 | Israel & Global
By Maian Rahvalschi
Our Israeli shlicha (emissary), Maian Rahvalschi shares her deeply personal reflections on the tragic events of October 7, 2023, and how they continue to shape her life one year later. She writes candidly about the pain of witnessing her homeland under attack while living abroad and the strength she draws from the Baltimore community, which has embraced her during these challenging times. Despite the darkness, Maian ends with a message of resilience and hope for Israel and the Jewish people.
Whether we are ready for it or not, tomorrow marks one year since the horrific events of October 7th, events that led to the beginning of the Iron Swords war, a war that is shaping to be the longest Israel has ever fought and is still in the midst of fighting.
If I’m being honest, writing this blog is not easy. It brings up many vibrant memories that still haunt my mind to this day, whether it’s images, sounds, thoughts, feelings. It’s hard to think about marking a year to an event we are still living through. But I guess October 7, 2023, will forever be one of those historic days, like 9/11, where people will say “I remember where I was when it started and what I was doing”. And to think, that day was supposed to be Simchat Torah, a holiday of joy, a day of celebrating our heritage.
It was Friday night here in Baltimore on October 6th (11:30 PM ET, 6:30 AM Israel time), I was just about to go to sleep after a great dinner in the sukkah when my phone started blowing up with alerts about rockets being fired at the south and center of Israel. Used to the fact that this is the sad truth of being an Israeli, and after checking in with my family, I went back to scrolling on my phone.
As the minutes progressed, the horrible truth started sinking in. From that moment on, I was glued to the screen, watching Israeli news and trying to make sense of the horrifying reality that feels more like an apocalyptic nightmare I wish I could wake up from. Fortunately, my family was physically safe, but my heart ached for my people and my home.
There were some feelings I wrote down in the month following that day. Looking back at them feels surreal, mainly because so many of them still live in me, even one year later.
I still feel sad. Sad for the families that have lost their loved ones. Sad for the families that are going through hell knowing the people they love most (including the most innocent of humans, little infants) are STILL held hostage by Hamas in Gaza, to be used as pawns. Sad for the families that are still burying their loved ones a year later in the Kibbutz they are finally allowed to return to. Sad for humanity.
I still feel mad. Mad at the universe that these atrocities are even possible. Mad at the world for not seeing what was right in front of them for so long. And I’m mad at those who feel entitled enough to find an excuse for the horrors that occurred on and since that day.
At times I still feel numb. Numb because there is only so much one mind and soul can take. However, being exposed to so many heartbreaking stories, especially in my role as the Jewish Agency’s shlicha to The Associated, is all part of the job.
I still feel torn. Torn because as an Israeli living abroad the first thing I wanted to do was jump on a plane and go back to Israel to be with my family, to be helping in any way I can. But as an emissary of the Jewish agency (a shlicha), I know my role, though changed significantly, is more important now than ever.
I understand that my ability to share my authentic experience and feelings at this time was major and with all the misinformation and fake news running around, educating people about the true heart and soul of Israel, what Israel really stands for, is my way of helping, my way of feeling like I’m doing something. Especially if what I can bring is the Israeli voice, the aspects that people aren’t necessarily exposed to, like the use of humor as a way to cope with the horrors, the need to find an outlet in art, or poetry or music.
But most of all, I still and will forever feel hopeful! Hopeful because I see how strong the people in Israel and the Jewish people around the world are, how fast we all came together and how much the Jewish communities care and support Israel, especially here in Baltimore.
Though one would think that being far away from home, the feeling of loneliness or feeling out of place will be high on my list, the opposite is true. With the amount of love and care I’ve received from the people in this amazing community, feeling alone wasn’t even possible. I will forever cherish the love and care I’ve received during the difficult times this past year. I’m happy to say, that just as much as it seemed like I was giving to this community, whether through knowledge, skills or just being myself, I received back ten folds over.
Tomorrow we will commemorate the one-year anniversary of October 7th as a community, which is an opportunity for us here in Baltimore to come together as one and remember, unite and hope for a better tomorrow. I hope that we will grow stronger as a people and work together to build a community of unity and not uniformity, allowing us all to be our own authentic selves, while still feeling part of something bigger.