Tick, tock...Tanks

October 23

The clock is starting to tick. The feelings are getting stronger. The nerves are getting tenser. It’s all becoming more and more real. The army is now less than a month away and I couldn’t be more excited and scared at the same time.

About one week ago I received news that every 17 or 18 year old receives – a letter or phone call with one’s placement for the army. This will be the unit with whom I do basic training, advanced training, and beyond. Of course things can eventually change, but this will be the mainstay of my life for the next two years.

Starting on November 23, I will begin serving in a tank unit. Like many of the things that have happened or will happen to me here, I couldn’t have even pictured that as part of my future. Combat is going to be a part of me, regardless of what I begin to feel or other people’s opinions.

Yesterday, two girls from our group were the first to have their draft day and began their basic training. The army was no longer a distant thought within our group of friends, our family – it was real. They left the kibbutz in their uniforms with their huge bags and looks of angst and anticipation. We were all proud of them and could definitely feel a part of the group sink away with the thought of them leaving.

Just last week, I came into conversation with more Israelis about my situation here. It’s usually more on the, “Good luck!” side, but I also received the, “Are you crazy? Why did you come here?” questions. To the second set, it can be difficult to convince other people of why I made the decision I did. It has only been two months since I made the move here, but when it comes down to it, the only person I need to convince is myself.

Slowly but surely, we will all have our draft dates where we begin to be put through some amount of time of hell while eating dirt (for lack of a better word) and feeling utterly exhausted. I have days when I feel ready and anxious to start. I have others when I want to continue the life I have with kibbutz life, relaxing, and Hebrew learning. Either way, I have one more month of waiting; all I can do is try to mentally prepare while at the same time live my life as I know how – as me. The tanks are in my future. Living in the middle of the desert is in my future. Going home only every three weeks is as well. But, as Israelis say יהיה בסדר, yihiyeh b’seder – it will all be OK.

With the first pick in the 2008 Army Draft, Israel selects:

October 6, 2008

Yom Chiyul – יום חיול Becoming a Soldier

This was a day that could easily go down as one of the more exciting yet overwhelming days in my life. I was completely there mentally and physically while at the same time I was very lost. So much was going on around me and I was trying to take it all in while the big event was happening – October 6, 2008 is the day I became a soldier of the Israel Defense Forces

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The day started with something that seems to be a future commonality in the army where we waited around aimlessly for two hours waiting for the journey to start. Finally, at 8 AM, we set off in the opposite direction of our final destination in order to be separated into groups with other Garin groups; then we were to go to the location where the drafting takes place. There I received another envelope stipulating my service time and my status as a lone soldier. We were on our way.

After another long bus ride and more waiting around we made it into the base where the proceedings were going to be taking place. They yelled a little. They set forth some rules. Then it was down to some business.

It began slowly and calmly with giving them our banj account numbers so as to have the correct place to put our salaries once they really start. After I waited in line for some time (which would be a theme of the day), I got my picture taken that was to go on my army ID. I was photographed without my glasses and showed a quick, blatant sign of confusion when they said, “Profile” (it sounds almost the same in Hebrew as it does in English). I thought they meant my physical profile number I received. I awkwardly answered, “72,” until almost immediately the lady snapped back with a, “No. A profile picture – turn to the side.” I was hoping this would be the only time I would feel confused or lost. Other friends of mine, like Danny Fleischer, had an almost identical experience with this confusion so I felt better in that sense. But still…

Right after this I walked across the hall to get some pictures of the inside of my mouth. Next was back across the hall to get fingerprints of every part of both hands. The thing is, throughout this whole thing, nobody was explaining where to go or what to do next. I don’t think they expected us to be perfect but they sure didn’t seem to care to help so much. We had learned the day before about the army’s bureaucracy and it was very apparent. Station by station we went not knowing if it was the right place or the right time or if we were doing things correctly. However, as the army works, we just kept doing as we were and followed the few orders we had and continued.

Next I went through a corridor and found my way to a line for 360 x-rays of our teeth/mouth. Here again I missed the boat several times in directions given of what to do and had some misunderstandings which made things take longer. No worries, it wasn’t to the point of meriting punishment. Onward we went.

Following this I made my way to a short interview to make sure some information was correct. Then I went down the hall and around to get a blood sample for my DNA. While I was at it I registered to donate bone marrow. After the blood was drawn I had no idea where to go so I took a guess. Guess A wasn’t correct; good thing I guessed again and made it to the next station. I got a few shots in my arm. Harmless and hardly painful.

Next came the בלגן – balagan (meaning mess) which I had really anticipated. We received our boots, uniforms, and other things related to it in a huge bag. However, I was turned back because I missed a step that nobody directed me to do. After exchanging my shoes twice, my clothes once, and fiddling with a broken zipper on my bag, I was ready to rock and roll. The only thing is this is the army and the time doesn’t revolve around me – it revolved around them.

We sat and stood and screamed for no reason while in our uniforms. It felt really itchy and sweaty in those uniforms but really, really good at the same time. I looked like a legit soldier. That’s because at that moment I and the rest of my friends were soldiers. We took pictures, hugged, and just smiled. We had taken another step towards what we’re here for now. We already saw some benefits of the soldier deal as I got a free drink at a restaurant in my uniform. But this isn’t all fun and games and we know that. We are officially a part of the army and this will be life. Now we can hope this life path will be what we all dreamed of and more. Besides – we are Israeli soldiers after all. I like the sound of that.

Real World - Israel

September 18

I can’t honestly say that my love for Israel is above anyone else’s nor might it ever be. There are numerous people here who have a deep connection, especially those like me with no Israeli blood but chose to move to this historical and beautiful place. But I can say that the abstract ideas that pushed me to take this leap of faith are ones that I am devoted to and passionate about. Unfortunately or fortunately (depending on how one looks at a situation), with every dream, reality has a chance to set in on what is really taking place and possibly alter the picture of the dream, for better or for worse. This is the case now in my adventure.

After my army testing day, I received an envelope telling me my possible options for the army. Because of my physical profile, my list was smaller than any other male’s here, but that made it easier to narrow it down, so to speak. My top two choices ended up being tanks and combat engineering. That sentence wasn’t even a real thought a year ago and now it was coming into a more real state. Following this choice, I had a couple of interviews with generals and told the story of my Aliyah (for the ^th time) and explained who I was. All of this was making it more real, but these were still conversations I’ve had in the past. Things kept progressing…

This past Sunday and Monday, everyone in Garin Tzabar attended a seminar. Sunday consisted of a series of lectures, in Hebrew, about the current state of the Middle East conflict and some historical things about the land of Israel. However, one thing that stuck out was a movie that was done by someone who photographed and documented events and interviewed peopled during the war two years ago in Lebanon. Look, I know war is real and it’s not a game and I also know that what happened here two years ago was something people would like to forget about. But this movie…it hit me. Hard.

I imaginatively put myself in the shoes of those soldiers and, for the first time, pictured myself in a legitimate battle. The people in the movie were in tank units. That could be me (G-d forbid in a war). I was scared out of my mind. I couldn’t get the thought to leave me. “What am I doing?” I would ask myself. “Why am I here?” My brain was cluttered with more feared thoughts than I had had in a long time.

Sleeping that night was a little more difficult than usual due to the plethora of thoughts in my head. But Monday brought another side to the journey, the journey from dream to reality. We watched a live army exercise at the base at which I will probably be stationed. This was complete with explosions, tanks, canons, and guns. It was all becoming more tangible. I even went in a tank for the first time.

This led me to today. I received my official draft letter from the army. On it read my day I officially start (October 6), my length of service, and what I’ll receive on that day (although I start October 6, basic training doesn't start until mid-November, another month the army gives me to prepare). I looked at the letter and kept wondering what most of the Hebrew said and what October 6 is going to be like. I then kept thinking back to the movie and the army experience. Why was I here?

In the end, as I write this, I keep trying to find answers to that question. I think back to the reasons that pushed me here – the people who fought for this Jewish land are a big motivation factor. Over 2,000 years our people were in exile from a land and it’s a necessity to have a Jewish land. I keep telling myself I need Israel – and I’m finding reasons why Israel needs me. Also, thinking back to the poem that I was introduced to this summer, I can’t get robbed of today because of regrets and fears. I must take the fear and change it to motivation to help continue to build the land of Israel. David Ben-Gurion said “עם בונה צבא בונה עם” – a nation that builds an army builds a nation. This journey is important to me and the Jewish people. Reality is setting in. No fear.

Testing, Testing: 1, 2, 3

September 3

The definition of integrating is as follows: to bring together or incorporate parts into a whole. Over the past three weeks, I have tried my best at this integration process. I have tried only speaking Hebrew in public, keeping Shabbat in observant neighborhoods in Jerusalem, and taking public transportation with a mindset of an Israeli – the idea that I’m getting to where I need to go, regardless. Certainly I’ve learned it’s a process and might continue for a long time, but the last two weeks have given me some major moments in my progression to being “Israeli.”

My main part of integrating into society so far has been my joining into the kibbutz life. I received an adoptive family and they are wonderful. They have three children, a 21 year old boy, 18 year old girl, and a 13 year old boy. He is essentially my little brother and it’s fun to have one for the first time. Another thing I’ve started doing in the kibbutz is my work. Everyone that is a member of the kibbutz must work in order to get his/her share of the food and education and things of that nature. Within our group, people’s work spans from dishes to gardening and fish farming to museum helpers. I got placed in the petting zoo. At first, hearing this, I wondered how bored I would get petting and feeding animals all day. To my surprise, the work is very hard physical labor that requires seven hours of focus and dedication. It may sound like I’m exaggerating about the job, but I am not. Keeping a place to live in order for almost 100 animals such as roosters, ducks, rabbits, and goats is more work that one could imagine. I have worked with more tools to clean up animals’ waste and living areas than I think I’ve ever used overall in my life…and there have only been two work days.

But probably the biggest thing that I’m doing to become more integrated is joining the army. This country revolves around the army and everyone feels some sort of connection to it. Noam Jonah, JJ’s oldest son, was playing with me last Shabbat and his role play was being my big brother who was in the Israeli Army. He’s six years old and just started first grade this week.

Yesterday, I along with the rest of my group trekked to Tiberias to do our tzav rishon, our first army tests. Here we would be taking a Hebrew test, a psychological test with analogies on the computer, and receiving our physical profile from the doctor. Tzav rishon only happens once, so you have to score as best as you can on everything.

We arrived at 8 AM and got started with everyone’s favorite pastime – urinating into a cup. Then it all just went into an organized free-for-all. The whole thing had the separate stations and people helping everywhere, but it was a madhouse all day. My name was called first and I scanned a card I had received and I stepped into a room with many female soldiers and some computers. I didn’t know it at the time but this was my Hebrew test. It started with innocent questions about who I am until in the middle my soldier I was talking to whipped out a binder and asked me to read sentences and explain what they meant using other Hebrew words. After that I wrote for her. Then I talked for her. I was reassured by this soldier that even Israeli teens find this test hard. I had finished the Hebrew section with only one thing on my mind – I hope I didn’t completely fail.

Next I moved to the psychological computer tests which felt SAT style…except I only had 10 minutes to answer 30 questions on two separate tests. I was happy to get that over with. After that it was to the doctor I went where I waited for a while to get a physical. I knew having bad eyesight would bring down my profile number, I was just hoping that would be it. There are countless stories of these doctors discovering irregular heartbeats or things of that nature which weren’t realized by other doctors (strange but true). I received no information about new things that would lower my profile, found out that I’m still legally blind without my glasses, and got the third highest profile number, which is the lowest possible for men to have combat jobs.

I was done with the stations. Now I had to play the waiting game to see what type of Hebrew score I received. Two through five meant extra ulpan (Hebrew class) with other immigrants and going into units even later. Six through nine meant I was like most other Israelis who took the test and could do anything based on my physical profile. I received the news after three hours that I…had passed! I got a seven! I was gleaming with joy and disbelief. The long day brought me good news and instilled confidence into my Hebrew skills.

My first steps into the army were over. I am now in the system. My next two years are starting to take shape and it has started on the right foot. Of course I still have a lot of work to do – physically, mentally, in Hebrew skills. But I’m on my way and I like the path so far that I am on; the road ahead looks bright. Within the next few weeks I might choose my job in the army. But for now, I’m replaying the waiting game and practicing more integration. I need to finish the definition and incorporate all of the parts together into a whole – that of an Israeli.

Can I see some ID please?

August 19

I had written previously about the fact that life zooms by and it is sometimes hard to catch it before it eludes you. Somehow, over the last week of mine in Israel, my first one as an official citizen, thing have slowed down to a speed where I could really savor everything that was going on around me, the good and the strange.

My first Shabbat as an Israeli was just that – Israeli. I grew up in Hebrew school much like any other Anglo-American Jew and were always taught that Israel is the Jewish state and everyone is Jewish which therefore means they celebrate holidays or things of that nature. I have come to learn that isn’t remotely the case as most Israelis live secular lives before Jewish ones. This is certainly not a bad thing, just interesting due to the fact that my whole life in America I had to seek out to practice Jewish events and here, on this wonderful and beautiful kibbutz in Israel, I still have to do the same.

We spent Friday and Saturday camping and hiking essentially in our backyard – a richly green forest with numerous trails, valleys, and rolling hills. We spent Sunday becoming more acquainted with the kibbutz, and Monday I took my Hebrew test to see which ulpan, or Hebrew class, I’d be placed into. Throughout it all, I being probably one of the only people on the entire kibbutz who wears a kippah, I’ve had to come to grasp the idea that I still need to make a place for Judaism in my life. At first I was slightly upset about it but now I’m happy to continue representing many things from my religion which only makes my connection that much stronger. Having had this slow time I’ve been able to dissect my feelings over the past week that much better and I am really grateful for that.

All of that thinking of my place in the Jewish people, especially in Israel, seems like it dominated my week, but it did not at all. Because I also became Israeli and that part of me was somewhat tested this week and revealed. My first full day as an Israeli, in a taxi, the driver said what I was doing and I explained I was moving stuff to my new kibbutz. He asked if I was Israeli and I didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes,” and he questioned it immediately. I had no problem telling him that I was just as Israeli as him, no matter where we were born or our native tongue. I stuck it to the man.

Throughout the week, besides ordering a phone, I waited and waited for my teudah zehut, my I.D. card, which was really the next step in being an Israeli citizen instead of just a new immigrant. Today was the day I received it, with my picture, smile and all, and only Hebrew writing – Israeli identification I had in my possession. Next was another step to being a citizen and that was opening up a bank account. After signing many papers which I am still unsure of what I signed, I had opened the account and got an Israeli credit card on top of it. I stared at the card and kept laughing and smiling because it was so cool to see my name, in Hebrew, on a card like that. “Now,” I mumbled to myself, “ I don’t have anything a native born Israeli doesn’t have.” I was on my way.

That brought us to tonight where we had a welcoming ceremony with many of the kibbutz members in attendance. This was to meet and greet, receive a blessing, and let them see what we are all about. For a reason I am still not too sure of, I was asked to deliver some words on behalf of our group to the whole kibbutz. I was going to be speaking in Hebrew and I wasn’t nervous. I had already taken risks to get to that point and having that honor was an extra bonus I was very happy to receive. I said what my friends Danna and Mika helped write and the kibbutz members were very impressed and I was satisfied with myself and the whole group.

When finishing the night by meeting many new people, it was clear to me that this was the place for me. Regardless of religious observances, language barriers, or the smell of cow **** every morning, the people reinforced to me why I made the decision I did; I felt as if I was in a welcoming place, a home. This was a shavuah tov, a good week. I’m sure it will be the first of many to come.

The Happiest Place on Earth

August 13 – Aliyah Day

There we were, descending through the clouds off the coast of Israel, only minutes away from landing as Israeli citizens. We watched our TV screens closely as the map showed the plane drift onto land and our eyes then caught the first buildings in the country. This was actually happening. Once a dream, now becoming a reality.

As the plane landed, all of us erupted into loud cheers while my fellow future soldier and friend Gilad and I asked ourselves, “What the **** is happening?” Being a special chartered flight of only people making Aliyah, passport control came to us. I was mere sconds away from walking out of the plane and peering out at the view of my new home.

I was cleared to go and I ventured toward the open door with my backpack and pillow behind me and a flag and a camera in my hands. All I could do was smile and photograph. We walked down the stairs and were greeted by photographers as if we were the USA basketball team. Flashbulbs everywhere made it hard at first to grasp what was taking place around us until we took a picture of everyone coming to do their army service – 43 people overall!

We boarded the bus which was to take us to the old terminal of the airport where a welcome ceremony was to take place. I started thinking about the first time I came to Israel at the age of ten and it felt special after all I had learned from classes and my mother. This time it was magical. In the distance were many Israeli flags and as we got closer, my friend Michal asked, “Is this all for us?!” Indeed it was.

As the bus pulled into where it was stopping I saw Justin and David, the former being one of my best friends and roommate and the latter being one of my best friends who made Aliyah last year, one of my inspirations. Their eyes opened big and my mouth opened wide and I pointed to them and the excitement was reaching a new level.

The doors of the bus opened and Heyveynu Shalom Elechem – “May peace be upon you” was booming from the loud speakers. Sari Roy, another close friend who did what I was doing only a few months prior was right there to hug me. Hundreds of people were singing and dancing and greeting all of us with open arms. Then I saw JJ Jonah, my Israeli dad and a big voice of reason in my decision and we embraced. O kept walking over and found Justin and David and the smile wouldn’t leave my face. They hugged me and we danced together and we were simply happy.

After many minutes of this Justin lifted me on his shoulders and I felt like I was on top of the world. Spur of the moment people began dancing around us and singing in joy. Next we made our way inside and prepared for a ceremony filled with many speeches from many important people. One of these people was Tzipi Livni, the foreign minister and assistant prime minister and possibly Israel’s next prime minister. If any other thing could make this even more real it was having her there to welcome us.

It was dawning on me – I was becoming a new citizen of the country. And the speakers certainly couldn’t let me forget what I was doing here as they recognized people joining the army seemingly every other sentence. We left the ceremony and moved upstairs where I was going to be receiving my first documentation as an Israeli – my Teudat Oleh, Certificate of Immigration. A nice lady handed over the passport-like booklet and I looked inside to see my picture with Hebrew writing and my date of Aliyah – August 13, 2008 – a day that will never leave my mind or my soul. This was the day I took a step towards following a dream and at that moment I felt proud of myself and fellow immigrants.

As I then walked downstairs to get my bags I came across the oldest immigrant on our flight, a kind and gentle 96 year old woman. If only we could all know how long this has been her dream. She was more than ten years older than I am now when Israel was still being fought for to become a Jewish state. I was gladly sharing this experience with such an motivating woman.

The rest of the day went as most in Israel do for me – resting, eating, and playing with JJ and Shira’s kids. But this day was different. It felt different. This was my day. My day of Aliyah. It actually had happened. I carried my Teudat Oleh with me to downtown Jerusalem and every time I reached in my pocket usually feeling my cell phone, I felt my teudah, constant reminders each time of what had transpired. In life, there are always ups and downs, and this is surely true here in Israel, too. The goal is to make sure I turn downs into ups to keep my spirits high in times of hardship. I don’t think I’ll have to do much more than remember the moment I walked off the plane and was able to say to myself a line I’ve wanted for sometime – “I’m Israeli now.” Yes I am. Yes I am.

One Day

August 11

One day. One day away from a moment in my life that might define who I am or who I will become. One day away from “Living the Dream” as Nefesh B’Nefesh calls it. Aliyah – to go or rise up both mentally and spiritually to Israel. One day is all that stands between me and fulfilling a dream. A day that will most likely last a lifetime.

Over the past week I have said my goodbyes to many of my close friends and family. My parents, uncle, aunt, brother, sister (even though she’ll be joining me in 2 weeks), and the Ezra staff from Camp Ramah were all people I had heartfelt goodbyes with.

However, I don’t like to think of the goodbye part but rather the chance I’ll have to say hello to many of these people in my new home – Israel. Josh Taff, a good friend and coworker of mine at camp, said, “It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later. In Hebrew, we don’t say שלום – shalom – but rather להיתראות – l’hitraot – meaning see you later.” I took his words to heart as I said some words with each of the aforementioned. Saying to people, “I’ll see you in Israel,” has become my favorite thing to say because it makes me smile along with whomever I’m speaking to. But sometimes we know our wishes or dreams don’t always come true even when we want them so badly. I feel more than fortunate that I am one day away from fulfilling one dream of mine. However, when saying farewell to the Ezra staff, I realized just how hard it is to leave people you hold close to you, especially when you don’t know the next time you are actually going to see them.

My fellow coordinators who I admire immensely had already done more than enough for me when, on top of it all, they asked each Ezra staff member to say a memory or thought about me on our last night together. When these things occur, you hope that you’ve done something, one thing, to impact their lives so that you don’t see where you might have missed a beat. Because, at the end of the day, just even smiling at someone might have positively changed that person’s day which, in turn, could change their life forever. Think about it – it’s true.

I was humbled by the words spoken by the Ezra staff and I kept thinking that I want to see each of them in Israel, without a doubt. A few of them promised a visit, but how certain can we be that this is so possible? I am going to see my parents in December. I am going to see my brother in the summer. These beautiful people who taught me how to view life for its positives only and never to give up? Unknown. This is another example of why nobody should ever let go of what they have until the last possible second, if not at all, because you’ll miss it so much when that sad time comes.

Dr. Seuss’ books caught my eye at Target the other day, specifically Oh the Places You’ll Go. I always look towards the end at a favorite page of mine: “And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.) KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!” There are two ways to look at this. One way is thinking what if we land in the 1 ¼ percent area where we don’t succeed? Do we just give up? The second way to view this is by seeing that confidence is vital, just not 100% certainty so as to lose your motivation or drive to finish any undertaking. The first view has to be battled back by saying to yourself, “No! Failure is not the option. I will try my hardest even if it doesn’t work out the first time. The second view speaks to me because it says if we take something for granted, then we aren’t doing the thing for ourselves. We must believe we can move mountains and find the mental and physical strength inside to complete even daunting tasks such as this. This is what Dr. Seuss is stressing – confident, motivated, yet not cocky.

Almost 2,000 years ago this week on the 9^th of Av in the Jewish calendar, the Romans dispersed the Jews and tried to destroy the people and their culture. Almost 2,000 years later in the present, the Jews inhabit Israel and make her flourish. Tomorrow I take the next step to becoming a part of that land, that people. The Romans might have thought that was the end of the Jewish people. Think again – Israel is alive and well and I’ll be embracing her within one day. One day that will be overwhelming and exciting. One day between me and Israel.