Imagine meeting 20 or so Alephs you’d never cross paths with otherwise, and over the span of 12 days, an uncountable number of inside jokes (6+1=?), and far too many push-ups, becoming a family. That’s exactly what happened to me.

I remember landing at EWR, thinking, “This is the start of a 12-day experience that’s supposed to change my life and how I see this Order.” That thought echoed in my mind as I rode the AirTrain to Terminal A and met a group of 10 or so people. I introduced myself to strangers who, by the end of those 12 days, would become everything but blood. Looking back now, I realize that was the first moment I understood the poetry of airports. They are, at their best, places for joyful, lighthearted beginnings.

After we gathered at the baggage claim, a spot I’ll never view the same way again, we loaded onto a bus headed for Camp Poyntelle. I could try to describe what happened there, but I’d struggle to wrap all of those emotions and moments into words. The result would be an article longer, and more teary-eyed, than a novel. So, for now, I’ll leave those memories for another article.

Still, that time flew by faster than the canteen line during chofesh. It feels like just a moment ago that I heard about 67 for the first time, played my first game of cards, and had my first separates with everyone (a story that deserves its own article). I’ve got a photo album full of pictures, and yet I don’t think it even scratches the surface.

The final evening of CLTC arrived faster than I could have imagined. Packing my bag felt wrong, but it was time to return to the airport.

Only this time, I wasn’t arriving. I was leaving. I hugged people and said goodbye, realizing this was real. I realized that I might not see some of them for a long time, if ever. Just one floor above where we first met, I said goodbye to brothers I had known only as strangers 12 days earlier. Then I sat down in the food court for one final meal, in the same place I had my first. I’ll never forget that Smashburger, or the conversation I shared with my coordinator and four brothers. But eventually, it was time to part once more.

I spent the last few hours of my trip with Harry Barnett, my brother who I was fortunate enough to have as my coordinator. Quite frankly, those hours at the airport were some of the most meaningful of all. When the time came, we walked, we reminisced, and we parted. Everything since has felt like a beautiful, emotional blur.

I remember walking with him, sharing stories tied to the very spaces around us. At first, I thought he was exaggerating the sentiment. Now, I understand. Camp Poyntelle will always live in my memory, but it’s the airport: Terminal A’s entrance, the table by Smashburger, the high-top near Starbucks, the AirTrain ride, Terminal B, the escalator beside United security.

These are where the emotions hit hardest. It was on that escalator where I said my final goodbye, and where, moments later, I watched two new teens arrive for their Passport trip, saying hello for the very first time.

Airports are strange places. They hold every emotion: joy, sorrow, anxiety, peace, beginnings, endings. EWR, for me, is no longer just an airport. It’s where I laughed and cried, felt sick and grateful, said hello and goodbye. It’s where I truly understood that shalom, a word we’d discussed a few days prior, a word that means peace, hello, and goodbye, is not a contradiction. The word is a reminder that all endings hold the echo of beginnings, all beginnings hold the echo of endings, and there is peace in this truth. I finally see this clearly because of how I saw it firsthand at EWR.

So, C1TC 2025, shalom.

To anybody reading this, please do not take your time at the airport for granted.

To my brothers who shared this trip with me, thank you, I miss you, I love you, and I am counting down the seconds until I see you next.

Fraternally submitted with undying love for my brothers,

Adam, Aitan, Alex, Ben L., Ben R., Ben Z., Davin, Eli, Ethan, Gene, Harry, Ilai, Jacob C., Jacob T., Josh, Leo, Levi, Reid, Sam, Sidney, Tobey, Tony, Yoni, Zach F., and Zach M., 67, SYFM, Daily Fun with Josh (formerly STEM Fun with Josh), Watermelon, PAAAAZ, Poker, Evan Final Boss, Big Brother, BJ, Abe, Mega Big Brother, Kennedy AZA #1631, Let Me See Your Michael Jordan, Latvia, Canada, Israel, USA, Amitz AZA, Hersch AZA, and what became my heart and home, C1TC 2025.

I forever remain,
Damn Proud Aleph Jesse Alexander Vaytsman