I dream in formation

Well this was quite possibly the longest week of my life. Im not even sure where to start. I think were gonna go with list form.

Things I learned in basic training:

1. זמן זה קודש- Time is Holy. By this, they mean that we better freaking be on time and standing in formation so that we can wait a hour for whatever it is that we are supposed to be doing next. 

2. Akshev is a magic word. Like in "Simon Says" if you do not begin every sentence with "Akshev [insert rank of person you are talking to]" you have to go back and start again. Unlike "Simon Says", if you do this too many times they make you do push ups.

3. When the army doesnt know what to do with you they make you run. When you are going through basic training with a bunch of 18 year old girls, half of them manage to get notes from their doctors saying they cant run. So they do push ups.

4. After a certain point, it is in fact possible to stop caring about things like whether or not food tastes good, whether you and all your clothing stink, whether you are likely to contract a disease from your army issued blanket, and whether you have to shower naked in front of 20 other girls.

5. M-16 A-1's are incredibly cool to look at and incredibly less cool to have to carry around with you all day. Especially when that means that you have to eat, sleep, and yes, shower with it. Oh and more especially when one of your fellow soldiers gets sick and you have to carry (eat, sleep, and shower with) her gun as well.

6. That being said, taking apart and cleaning an M-16 A-1 is incredibly fun.

7. It is very difficult to answer questions you know the answer to in the wrong language. It is also very embarrassing when you ask whether we have murdered (רצחנו?) instead of whether we have washed (רחצנו?).

8. Most 18 year old girls cannot fathom why a 23 year old American would want to move to Israel, much less join the army. They find this especially hard to understand after we have been given 30 seconds to run back and forth to a stump and line up in the rain. 

9. I now know the Hebrew words for all the M-16 parts, all the bullet parts, bullet wounds, tourniquets, all the parts of your leg, and vomit. Oh and that it is a good thing to be a "shpitz".

I couldnt think of a number 10 so at this point I am going to switch back to paragraphs. All in all, I survived my first week and only have a week and a half to go. I am doing better than most of the girls there because I am used to being without my parents, ok with bad food, and mostly, I chose to be there. I also have a better understanding of guns (thanks Abba) and emergency first aid (thanks Ima) than most of them do. That being said, all the Hebrew tends to even things about a bit, but they are all being very nice to me and making sure I understand and know whats going on. They also let me write things on my arm so I can check when I forget. This week was pretty much split between being yelled at, learning the hard way how to stand in formation, cleaning up our bunks, and sitting through classes and lectures. We learned about the history of the army and how it is set up, we learned about the history of the M-16 and all the gun safety laws we need to know. We learned emergency first aid and how to work as a team. We learned all the things we can and cannot wear and do and finally we had an assembly on all the type of jobs we can have. I was given three job options which I requested in this order, 1. Airplane/helicoptor/bomb technician 2. Assistant to an Aluf (like a general) and 3. Creating mulitmedia educational material on how bombs and guns and planes work. My options might change depending on how well I do in BT, but we will see. 

They gave us off for Shabbat which was a much needed break and I am now dreading going back but at least rejuvenated by all the sleep, good food, and phone time (we only get one hour a night to talk on the phone, shower and get ready for bed). Thank god I am doing the lowest BT and only have to do this for 2 1/2 weeks. I dont know how the combat boys do this for 6 months (and they have to run alot more).

Anyway, we are in for the next Shabbat (which I am a little worried about being the only religious girl in my group) so I will not be able to right again until I finish BT. The good news is by then I will know where I am going. Anyway, wish me luck with this next week and I will talk to you all again when I can. Those of you who can call Israel can feel free to call my cell phone and leave me lovely messages of love and support (011-972-54-695-2703)

I got soul AND Im a soldier

I just want to warn you all that this story is somewhat anti-climactic.

Bright and early Sunday morning my two friends and lovely brother took me to Ammunition Hill and dropped me off with a plethora of teenage recruits. It was typically loud and unorganized (very Israeli). I wasnt really sure what was going on, but I saw my name pop up on an electronic board like a flight number and went through the doors where everything seemed to be happening. My friends took pictures, a strange lady gave me a hug and a lollipop, and some soldier crossed my name off a list. Then I waited (this would happen alot). Eventually they ushered our group of loud obnoxious teenagers onto a bus and we headed to Tel HaShomer, the big army base near Tel Aviv. We got there about 45 min later and waited an hour to get off the bus. The busdriver finally got so annoyed with us he jumped off the bus and started attacking officers until somebody came and told us where to go. We then spent another half hour being told to stand here and then over there and then back over here and "What the hell is wrong with you people? Dont you know how to stand in a line?" (we didnt) until they decided it was lunch time. 

Lunch was actually pretty good and after about 5 minutes of talking, everyone at my table had figured out I was an olah (immigrant) and proceeded to grill me with fascination. Except for one girl, she just kind of stared at me for the rest of the day. 

Anyway, we finished up and then all the processing began. There were about 50 kids on my bus and at least another 5 buses had showed up while we were waiting to get off of ours, so there were alot of obnoxious teens about. (Just to clarify, Israeli teens are like 10x more obnoxious then Americans. I was kind of amazed with the backtalk going on) First we were herded into a room where someone yelled at us (no idea what he said), and then we were shuffled down some hallway and began the process of being sent into various rooms. My teeth were x-rayed and photographed, my hands were rather throughly fingerprinted, my picture was taken (and of course is horrible) and then I was sent to the vampires. First they asked us to "voluntarily" have our blood tested for bone marrow transplant compatibility because, good lord, who wouldnt want to save someones life?! its just one little prick! My next little vampire pricked my finger and had fun drawing on something that said DNA, and the next one gave me immunizations (no idea what kind) while I tried to translate "pincushion".

Then, with blood dripping down my arm because the army has no bandaids, I was sent to some sort of interview. I sat down with this woman, she opened my file, and then proceeded to yell at the guy that walked by- roughly translated- "WHAT THE HELL, DUDE?! THIS IS LIKE THE EIGHTH ONE! CANT THOSE IDIOTS DO ANYTHING RIGHT?!" Still have no idea what that was about but I signed some papers and moved on. 

Next I got my army ID and dogtags and was sent upstairs to talk to someone else. He typed away on his computer for a bit and then told me I was going to the Air Force. This, by the way, is a very good and exciting thing. Not only are our uniforms hotter and our bases better, but they just treat you better and give you cooler job options. So with a big smile on my face, I went back downstairs and somehow managed to skip most of the line of teens waiting to get outfitted. I got my duffel full of fun stuff like socks and undershirts and pepperspray, got my army shoes and sandals -no boots for Kfi :( and three uniforms. I then headed into the giant room of half naked girls and proceeded to make sure everything fit. I couldnt get the pants they gave me up past my knees so I spent the next 40 minutes trading in pants over and over again. And of course everytime I went back to get a bigger pair some tiny ass Israeli girl is standing next to me asking for a size smaller. 

I finally got outfitted and dressed and actually thought I looked pretty cool even though all the other girls were complaining that they looked fat. So we are all sitting outside waiting to be told what base we are going to when I get pulled aside and told I can go home. Apparently the Air Force training doesnt start until next Sunday. So I went home, appreciating the new uniform and the free buses that come with it. Anti-climactic, I told you.

I have to say I am actually glad to have this particular week off. Thank you all for your kind words and prayers, but my grandfather passed away soon after I sent that last email. Barak flew home on Tuesday, and I have spent most of the week on the phone with my family. It is hard not to be home at this time, but I am glad I was given this time to spend with the memory of my grandfather. And knowing that I am following in his footsteps- even if this Air Force is not American- comforts me.

For Zayde

I tried starting this email three or four times. I am starting the army tomorrow and I am pretty nervous and excited and kind of swinging back and forth between freaking out and calming down and seeing it as a grand adventure. But, honestly, that is not what is on my mind right now.

My grandfather is in the hospital, and my family is gathering around him while Barak and I wait by the phone. And I hate that I am not there with them. I hate that, though they are supportive and loving, my friends do not know him.

So what I want to do is tell you about my grandfather. I hope that is okay.

My Zayde is my grandmother's second husband and quite obviously the love of her life. She is his second wife as well and to hear him talk about her, it is hard to imagine he ever saw anyone else. Growing up, calling them was always a group event, as whichever one of them answered the phone, they would yell down to the other to join the conversation as soon as I told them it was me.

My Zayde is an artist. When they moved to New Hampshire, they converted an old slaughterhouse into their studio. Whenever he sent me a letter he would draw pictures of their house or the squirrel that had been feasting at their bird feeder. He once stopped me as I came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my head. I had reminded him of a Vermeer painting, and he went on to draw me as the Girl with a Pearl Earring. For as far back as I can remember he was teaching me things about art. He taught me to see the purple in shadows and showed me how one line could change the angle of an elbow. He is a brilliant painter.

My Zayde is a World War Two veteran. Growing up in a Jewish day school everyone had stories about where their grandparents were during the Holocaust, how they had escaped the Nazis, when they had come to America. But I always thought my story was better. My grandfather had fought in the American army. He had been the gunner in a B-17 and was shot down over Germany. He was a prisoner of war and weighed 70 lbs when the Russian army finally liberated them. He puts on his uniform every memorial day and participates in the town parade. One year he went and spoke to the veterans in a local jail. He loved having a "captive audience".

My Zayde tells alot of jokes. They are not very good, but they make me laugh. When my Bubbe hears them, her eyes crinkle up and she laughs and says "Oh, Russ!"

My Zayde is a father, a step father, and a grandfather. I was blessed with three grandfathers when I was born, but Zayde is the one that has always been a part of my life. He is the one I have spent my Channukah/Christmases with. He is the one that tells me stories of when I was little, he is the one I danced with at weddings, he is the one I wanted to introduce to the man I marry.
I love you Zayde. ברוך דיין אמת

Home is where the Hut is

So this week was Sukkot, a week-long holiday that Jews spend sitting in Sukkahs, or huts that we build in our backyards, in remembrance of the huts we lived in while traveling through the desert after the Exodus from Egypt. In Israel this translates into- vacation.

I spent Shabbat in Efrat with my brother Barak, and we pretty much spent two whole days sitting in the Sukkah. The sukkah is supposed to be a temporary structure (you have to be able to see the stars through the "roof" of dead branches), yet you are supposed to treat it as your home, eating there, sleeping there, and sitting in it as much as possible. Well, the Auerbachs take this pretty seriously, and moved their whole living room into the sukkah. And I mean the whole living room, the couches, the lamp, the coffee table, and come Saturday night, the TV. On Sunday they moved the network cable into the Sukkah so that they could play Age of Empires on their laptops. I feel that I can safely say I spent more than the required amount of time in the Sukkah.

As for the vacation part, Im pretty sure I got my share of that as well. I spent Sunday lying on the couch (in the Sukkah) reading, went to a free concert on Monday and rocked out to Moshav Band, Shlomo Katz, and Adi Ran (who is an awesomely crazy old man), and then went on a bike hike on Tuesday. While my knees and butt are still recovering from upwards of 5 hours spent on a bike (which is probably more bike time that I have had in the last 5 years),   I got to bike through these old dirt paths away from all people, got to wander through a vineyard, pray in a field, and make friends with cows. And when we finally got back to the moshav (small farming village) where we rented the bikes, I got to meander through their neighborhoods in the quiet of the night (except for that one street where I got chased by dogs). 

I spent most of Wednesday recovering (aka sleeping) and Thursday socializing. There is nothing like happy three hours at my favorite pub IN A SUKKAH.

The only bummer of the week was that I found out that my friend Kieffer will not be going into the army the same day as me. They moved her enlistment date to a month from now, so come next Sunday I will be all alone with a bunch of Israeli teenagers. Oh yay. Anyway, the countdown has begun, and Im kind of nervous about it, which has translated itself into me not thinking about it. But next week is my last week of freedom and I plan on enjoying it to its fullest. 

Now Im off to prep for the next awesome holiday as I will be partying it up with the Torah tonight. Im gonna miss Chabad's dance across campus, but hopefully Jerusalem will have something just as good to offer :)

I am going to live on a hilltop with a shotgun and a giant dog

Ah, my first full week back in Israel and it was soooo good! I got to hang out with my brother, I got to see my closest friends, I got to go hiking, I got to waste hours lounging on my couch reading, and I got to eat sushi :) Oh, and it started with a holiday and is ending with one. I love holiday season!

So starting with the beginning, Shabbat with Barak was chill and nice and I beat him 3 of 5 times at Yaniv. We went out for sushi Saturday night, and oh, how I had missed the restaurants here! Sunday Barak went back to Yeshiva and I slowly realized that throwing together last minute Yom Kippur plans would not be as easy as I had thought. So I went to Efrat and my adopted family welcomed me with open arms and lots of food. Services on Yom Kippur were beautiful. The chazzan (cantor)

sounded like he was in an opera or a musical. And not in an annoying "I wish he would stop trying to show off his voice and let me pray" kind of way. He sang with such feeling that I truly felt like he was leading us, helping us reach inside ourselves for true repentance and send our prayers up to God. It was an uplifting Yom Kippur that left me looking forward to the coming year.

On Tuesday I had a meeting with the army to discuss my financial and familial situation and got to once again straighten out some small clerical errors like, "no, I did not become an Israeli citizen when I was five" and "no, I am not joining the army for two years". Still dont know what I will be doing though.

Wednesday Barak and I headed to Efrat to go hiking with Eli and Judy (from my adopted fam). We had planned on a short morning hike, starting at 10am. Well, we left at 1:30 for Tekoa, a settlement near Efrat, and got back at around 6pm. Our short hike wandered past some old caves from the time of the Chashmonaim (when the Jews were rebelling against the Romans) and we ended up crawling through caves for about 2 1/2 hours. When we had finished the hike we drove through the four neighborhoods in Tekoa, and I have to admit, I fell in love.

Tekoa is a settlement of religious and non-religious Jews that was started in the 70's. The town is small, isolated, and has one pizza store that is open once a week. They are one of the many settlements on the chopping block for disengagement (making it next to impossible to get a mortgage there) and most of the homes are converted caravans and shacks that make it difficult to tell where their house ends and their sukkah begins.

They sit on a hilltop with one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen.

I am going to live there.

Thursday, we spent the morning helping the Auerbach's build their sukkah and then went to a ceremony for their son Shlomo. He just finished his army training and is now officially a paratrooper! The ceremony was on Ammunition Hill in East Jerusalem and Barak and I ran around in the trenches pretending we were fighting Jordanians while someone important droned on in Hebrew. If you count the caves as battlefields (which they were in a way, all twisting and confusing so as to lose the Roman soldiers), that was two battlefields in two days making me an incredibly cool sister for my war-obsessed baby brother.

Sukkot starts tonight and all of Israel will be partying it up in the huts for a week. I have been watching little huts pop up all over Jerusalem- one of my neighbors has built one to perfectly fit in his parking spot, and more than half the restaurants I walk by now have little shacks perched on the sidewalks. Anyway, lots of good things to look forward to next week :)