The very first steps I set on Israeli soil were in Haifa harbor in January 1978. I was a Dutch teenager, only eleven years old. The moment my feet touched the ground, something happened that I could not understand at the time. In an instant I felt at home. There was an energy so powerful and so magical that I will never forget it. I did not know what was happening inside me. I simply felt light. My heart was full of a happiness that had never been there before.

It was a very strange experience for a non religious Dutch girl who, despite her young age, had already seen quite a lot of the world. Yet nothing had ever made me feel the way Israel did in that moment. I can still remember the state of mind I was in. It was as if something inside me had suddenly awakened.

Israel became my first love, and it will be my last.

It is not even about the people in the first place. I have always been more of a lone wolf. What captured my heart was something deeper. It was the land itself. The soil, the air, the sun. The smell of orange blossoms floating through the warm air. The endless fields of flowers. The magical views that stretch across the hills. The golden Jerusalem stone glowing in the sunlight. The vibrations of Jerusalem that almost feel alive.

Jerusalem became my city, my home. The city that holds my heart forever.

It is difficult to describe what Israel meant to me then and what it still means to me now. Even today, decades later, the feeling returns every time I board a plane heading toward Tel Aviv. The moment the coastline of Tel Aviv appears below the plane window, something happens again. My eyes fill with tears. Happy tears. Tears of coming home.

And yet there is another side to that emotion.

The moment I have to leave again from Ben Gurion Airport, a deep sadness takes over. It feels like desperation. In that sense Ben Gurion Airport may be the most schizophrenic place in the world. The place of overwhelming happiness when arriving, and the place of deep heartbreak when departing.

Israel has a magic that I cannot fully explain. It has everything to do with energy. Some people feel it and some do not. But for those who do, it never disappears.

The remarkable thing is that after all these decades, the land itself has not changed. The smell of blossoms is still there in the spring. The light over the hills is still the same. The wind that moves across the desert still carries that unique feeling of ancient history and resilience. The nature remains breathtaking. The land remains powerful.

But time has not been as kind to the people.

Over the decades I have seen changes that are painful to watch. Influences from the modern Western world, particularly from the United States, have reshaped parts of Israeli society. Patriotism, once a natural and proud expression of survival in a difficult region, is sometimes treated as a suspicious word by certain circles. Imported ideological battles have begun to creep into Israeli life. Debates about identity, image and social trends have taken center stage.

There is also a growing focus on appearance and image rather than the deeper strength of character that once defined Israeli society. The old spirit of simplicity, directness and collective responsibility sometimes seems overshadowed by modern superficial pressures.

Then there are the everyday frustrations that many visitors recognize. The chaotic driving. The rough directness that can easily come across as rudeness. The casual relationship with punctuality. Promises made quickly but not always kept. These things may partly belong to the broader Middle Eastern culture, but they can still be difficult for outsiders who love the country and want to see it at its best.

There was also a time when visitors felt embraced almost immediately. Israelis were known for their warmth and curiosity toward people from abroad. That welcoming spirit sometimes feels less visible today. Life has become harder, more polarized, more tense.

For someone who has loved Israel for nearly half a century, seeing these changes can be painful. It sometimes feels as if the deep love I have for Israel is not always returned by the society that now lives there.

And yet the story does not end there.

Because despite all of this, the essence of Israel remains untouched. The land itself has not lost its soul. The hills, the desert, the sea, the stones of Jerusalem still carry the same energy that captured the heart of an eleven year old Dutch girl in 1978.

Every visit reminds me of that first moment in Haifa harbor. Every sunrise over Jerusalem reminds me why Israel continues to inspire millions of people around the world.

Countries can change. Societies evolve. People struggle with new realities.

But some places carry something eternal.

Israel is one of those places.

And every time I stand there again, breathing the air filled with blossoms and sunlight, I find myself saying the same words again and again.

What an amazing country.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)