Since touching foot on American soil again, the following conversation has been replicated many times:

“Did you do anything fun during the summer?”

“Well, I participated in the 2014 Dr. Bessie F. Lawrence International Summer Science Institute at the Weizmann Institute in Rehovot, Israel.”

**Blank Stares**

“Umm, okay. How was your little science camp then?”

“It was…”

At this point, I freeze up, groping awkwardly in my heard for a word that can capture even a slimmer of the pure magical essence that was ISSI 2014. But even with the hundreds of SAT vocabulary words and three languages churning in my head, such efforts prove undeniably futile. Instead, I reminisce back to the suffocating heat of the Israel desert…

Starting off this incredible journey, we were immersed in one of the foremost research intuitions in the world. An environment that cultivates innovative scientific research, amazing breakthroughs, for pursuing research to the fullest. I mean, which ordinary research institution has a freaking particle accelerator on a beautiful, expansive 280 acre-campus? Not to mention cats. Lots and lots of cats. (Schrödinger would have been very excited by both)

Taking full advantage of these resources, I collaborated with my partners from Florida and China on our biology project investigating the role of excess glucose levels on one’s levels of Reactive Oxygen Species, a project highly relevant to American society. While I initially thought that coming to the conclusion would be incredibly easy, I realized I had learned so much in the process, about Chinese food, Israeli foreign policy, and life (and a tiny bit of science as well), from a hilarious mentor and awesome lab partners. Unlike the five previous years of research I had conducted, in the short three weeks that flew by, I felt fully engaged in the lab, ready to laugh, learn and occasionally work.

But even more exciting than our lab-work (which is probably not saying much) were the experiences outside. Our group of 80 students hailed from 19 countries, but literally every corner of the globe. There even was a girl from an Inuit village of 1000 who sacrificed hunting for Beluga whales (I am not kidding) to come. On the cosmopolitan side, it was not uncommon to find a student from Hong Kong who was born in the United States and lived in China, while serveral others spoke 7 languages. But even as we made fun of our accents and were utterly confused about “chips”, “fries”, and “crisps”, we 80 eccentric misfits became a loud, lively family. I still find myself being excessively polite, using metric units and saying “sorry” after bumping into a tree. Thank you Europeans. We were separate in features but became united in complaining about how bad dinner was (there was no meat or eggs), how many mosquitoes there were, and bragging about how long our nap times were during lab. Yes, we became so close that conversations extended past 4am, with productivity during the day proportionally reduced.

Despite the research element, ISSI was as much a cultural experience as it was a scientific one. For me, this experience is accurately captured by Dickens in The Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. A journey of superlatives; of extremes. Our last week of rendezvous around Israel consisted of daily wake ups of 5:30am, and subsequent 10k hikes through deserts and up mountains in 42° Celsius (that’s over 100°F!) temperatures. This was miraculously done without any Starbucks and carrying 3 liters of water at all time, which gets quite heavy. But while this also accurately describes a prison camp regimen, the pain was by far a small price to pay. After conquering Masada’s winding path to its peak and ignoring the gripping fire in your back, the solitude of the peak as the majestic sunrise casts its arms over salt flats and the soft fingers of morning wind stroke your sweat-drenched shirt will certainly instill deep inside, a feeling of peace. Of epiphany in the smallness of life’s smudge. Of empowerment to act. Whatever the adventure, floating in the Dead Sea, basking under the stars in pitch black, rappelling off a cliff, we were spellbound by Israel’s magic. As we ate the food of the Jews, Arabs, Druse, and Bedouins, danced to their music, and learned their history and customs, we drank its delicious potions. (Unfortunately, some potions were toxic, as the food at S'de Boker left me bed-ridden and throwing up for three days).

However, this year was unique. Our band was fully immersed into another cultural experience: the recent escalation of war between Hamas and Israel. From thinking the Iron Dome was a literal iron dome that covered Israel, I’ve watched the same defense system intercept rockets directly over my head. Shrapnel has fallen in multiple places on Weizmann’s campus, including the front of the physics building and the swimming pool. A couple ISSI participants have gotten minor injuries from running to the shelter early in the morning. Our parents constantly called us, begging us to come home. Despite these conditions, what intrigued me most were the conversations I had with college-bound Israeli students, PhD candidates serving as lab technicians, and my scientific mentors, who were as cosmopolitan as any individuals I have yet talked to. Interestingly enough, the opinions that were presented were not the polemical “Burn Hamas to the ground” nor “Israel’s inhumane actions should be internationally condemned”, but one rooted with careful consideration of history and both sides. Despite these conditions, the frequent rockets and sirens became more annoying than scary (especially at 6 in the morning). Ironically, we’ve probably grown closer because of them. For us, a trip to the bomb shelter is incomplete without taking an obligatory selfie photo (“shelter selfie,” for which we’ve assigned the hashtag #shelfie). We call ourselves the Iron Dome Fan Club, write silly Facebook posts, and note that Hamas must be soccer fans because there were no air raids during the World Cup final. It just proves that whatever obstacle, neither rockets, nor sirens trice day, could ruin our magical journey.

As I flip through our ISSI 2014 “month-book” and the fastest 30 days of my life, I reach the last 4 pages, pages that have every square inch covered with personal notes and signatures from my 80 best friends. I have invitations to visit Brazil and Australia, proclamations of enduring friendship transcending borders and time zones, and tears welled up in my eyes. On Facebook and Skype, we’ve already planned a family union; a New Year’s midnight in Paris to recapture the enchantment of ISSI 2014. While we might not have rockets exploding above us and camels riding below us, we will be embracing, recasting the magic that holds us. In the end that’s what truly matters.

And I finally find an adjective that fits!

“Magical. ISSI 2014 was magical.”