Learning by the lochs: a weekend with Scottish JSocs

After a 5 hour bus ride from the east coast to the west, I found myself outside an old cabin staring out at a beautiful loch in Dunoon, Scotland. The sun was sprinkling the gentle waves with a soft glimmer, as I stood at the shore filled with an eagerness for the weekend ahead at the 2026 Union of Jewish Students (UJS) Scotland Convention.

The afternoon was filled with walks along the shore, ping pong and snacks in the common area, and eventually Shabbat service. As the sun sunk below the horizon, we squished ourselves into plastic chairs and filled the small room with prayer.

Shabbat has such a special energy that it’s hard to capture in words what this service felt like. Most of us began as strangers, sharing smiles and exchanging a few words. But, together, singing Hebrew and holding hands as we spun – we became a family.

After service, we were ready to eat. The dining hall was decorated with bright colours and UJS flags, creating a lively atmosphere that reminded us of summer camp. During our meal, the outside darkness surrounded the many windows, blanketing us in a comforting feeling of togetherness.

There’s a feeling that swells in my throat at Friday Night Dinner, especially one so grand. It’s as though – no matter how many of the words I stumble over – I am exactly where I am meant to be. I am not afraid to be loud. I am buzzing with excitement, clapping my hands and stretching my arms around new friends. UJS events tend to have this effect on not only me, but everyone who attends them. We all know exactly where we are meant to be.

The next morning, I attended Raphi Leon’s session about prayer. I enjoyed the chance to explore my own unique connection with God. What many of us felt was that prayer was not exclusive to a synagogue. Rather, we prayed in many ways beyond that: through our community, through our existence among nature, and through interactions with the world around us.

In a later session, a large number of us squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder into one of the rooms to discuss love and Judaism with the chaplains, Eliron and Ayalah. Their children ran around the room laughing and playing with us, bringing us all into their beautiful family unit.

Split into groups, we looked at various ways to interact with love and relationships within Judaism. The texts we studied and connections we made throughout this session were incredibly insightful and reminded us of the importance love has in not only our community, but the world.

And although the discussion was worthwhile, what stood out the most was the way we piled in to hear our chaplains speak. Over the past four years they have built and strengthened our community, being a home away from home for most of us. In my own two years of knowing them, I have felt supported by and welcomed into a big Jewish family that stretches from coast to coast. Although I am sad to see them go, I am incredibly grateful for the time, energy, and especially the love that they gave us all.

During Havdalah, the Jewish ceremony marking the end of Shabbat and the start of the new week, this communal love spread across the dining hall. Hand in hand, we swayed and sang, letting our joy and celebration fill the entire room. Later that night, we each took turns singing our favorite songs on the Karaoke machine where we were blessed with a rendition of “Let it Go” from Frozen by Eliron and Avi Falk (St Andrews).

The next morning, with a scratchy voice and bittersweet sensation, I reflected on the weekend during the group walk along the beach. Together, we skipped rocks into the Loch and took pictures with the rainbow that stretched across the sky.

And although we left shortly thereafter, if you were to walk along the shoreline, I’m sure you would still feel our footprints in the mud.

Maybe you would find one of the stones we skipped washed back onto the shoreline. In the walls of the cabin, you would probably hear the echoes of our singing and laughter. On the rug of the game-room, there’s a chance you’ll find some crumbs from the sourdough pretzels that I still dream about. And surely, as you watch the waves of the Loch, you will no-doubt feel the warmth of our community.

• Cece Allentuck, St Andrews JSoc