No one eats green veggies on Thanksgiving

Aright, I have been trying to figure out a way to organize the random medley of events that happened to me this week and I am resorting to a food analogy. Please bear with me.

This week was a salad. Nothing fancy with purple cabbage or chicken strips, just your basic tossed salad. So going basic, we'll start with the lettuce. Lettuce is the base, it fills out the salad, holds onto the dressing and is basically the most necessary ingredient. In fact, Im pretty sure my brother Barak thinks that lettuce is called salad. My lettuce is living in Israel- without which none of the weird things that happen to me would make sense.

Next were going to throw in some carrots. Carrots annoy me because they take a really long time to chew. Over the years I have acquired the patience to actually chew my carrots, but when I was younger I used to just bite off small pieces and swallow them. So our carrots represent my patience. Which was really put to the test this week as I waited for buses to take me to and from Rehovot each day. As I sat around on my base waiting for someone to give me something to do. As I sat in army offices waiting hours for a piece of paper. And as I waited each painfully long day for the army to release me from my mind-numbing boredom.

Tomatoes- Tomatoes are one of those things that I have always eaten, but only started to really like a few months ago when I ate an absolutely amazing one at the Skversky's. I also like tomatoes because even though you know its coming, I still get excited when I bite into one and get that big juicy sploosh in my mouth. This week books were my tomatoes. The analogy is not perfect, because I have always liked reading, but this week I found myself picking up old classics (they fit perfectly into my uniform pockets) and even though I knew I had liked reading it the first time, I still enjoyed the big juicy sploosh that is quality writing (or in the case of the Harry Potter books, just fun stories). These books were my saving grace this week as I spent most of my days sitting in an army warehouse with nothing to do. Of the three days of work I had this week, I think I did a total of two hours of work. Not that I am lazy, they just had nothing for us to do after we folded all the flags and organized the silverware.

Avocado- Avocado is always the most exciting part of the salad for me and I go out of my way to pick them out. Now, I didnt go out of my way to pick these out, but there were a few exciting events that happened to me this week. The first may not seem so exciting to you, but at the time helped me retain my sanity. On our first day in the warehouse (they kicked us out of the armory because they were having inspections), our commander would give us about 10 min worth of work and then leave us there for 2.5 hours. So pretty much, we were bored out of our minds. We played catch with a tassel, found a lighter and after almost setting a box of flags on fire decided that was a bad thing to play with, attempted to sleep on a shipping crate, and then WE FOUND A BOX OF DOMINOES! Im telling you, it was really exciting!

Okay, my next story is a little better. As I was coming home on Wednesday the whole "soldiers know how to handle crises" thing was put to the test when a young yeshiva boy passed out on my bus busting his head open on the way down. Luckily there were other concerned citizens to do things like call the ambulance and talk to the kid, but I ended up being the one pressing the freshly bought dinner napkins donated by a nice old lady to the guys forehead because he had blood running down his face. He was still on the floor of the bus, so I sat next to him applying pressure trying to transfer all of the medical stuff I had learned about bullet wounds to this situation and eventually giving up and going for the "put something on the bleeding part" technique. I did this until some self-righteous woman suggested that this religious boy might be more comfortable with a man holding napkins to his head, because clearly, when semi-conscious and bleeding from the forehead having a woman apply pressure to your wound might lead you to improper thoughts. But I gracefully passed my duty onto another religious man and sood after got off the bus.

And the last, and most important part of the salad, is of course, the dressing. The dressing permeates every part of your salad, making it so much more exciting than a pile of vegetables. Well this week's dressing was Thanksgiving. Now, as I said last week, I was very upset to miss the madness that is my home on Thanksgiving, but apparently I am not the only American in Israel missing the taste of home (aka turkey and stuffing). But just as Jews in America celebrate two days of chag (holiday) due to an uncertainty born of a seven hour time difference, Americans here seemed a little unsure when to celebrate Thanksgiving. So they just did it all week long. On Tuesday night I went to a Sheva Brachot (post-wedding party) and had turkey and stuffing. On Wednesday I was invited to a party in Nachlaot and had, turkey and stuffing (and really good cran-apple stuff). On Thursday, my slightly less-confused roommate hosted Thanksgiving dinner and I had more turkey and stuffing (and made a really good pumpkin pie!) and I just found out that the people that are hosting me for dinner tonight are serving, bum bum bum, turkey and stuffing. So if I missed out on quality Covel time this Thanksgiving, I definitely made up for it in quantity.

Anyway, Shabbat is fast approaching and I must go prepare. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving and enjoy your long weekend! Ill be rising at the crack of dawn on Sunday and heading to training in Haifa. Oh, how I miss Sundays.

Life is like a box of chocolates

Remember that scene in Forrest Gump where he super-speedily dismantles and puts back together his M-16? Well this week I was Forrest Gump x200.

After some army craziness that I will elaborate on further, I ended up spending all day yesterday in the armory cleaning guns. There are two rounds of cleaning that the guns go through, the first  is simply opening up the gun and removing the Michlal (which I think is the bolt in english) and dipping the two of them in an oily, turpentine-smelling solution and brushing them down. I had this down to an art by the end of the day, they were teasing me for being so fast. The second, which is more fun and less smelly, is dismantling the michlal and cleaning and oiling all the smaller parts. I didnt get to do this as many times, but perhaps next week.

As for how I found myself wearing a pitiful plastic apron and dipping guns in oil- it is a story that makes everyone that has served in the IDF sigh and say "Welcome to the Army, Kf".

Sunday morning I showed up at a base an hour late, which turned out not to matter because no one noticed, and sat around for a few hours until I finally got called into an interview. Ten short minutes later I was jumping for joy because I got the job I really wanted and they are going to train me to be an airplane technician!! This a) means I get to not only get to touch an F-16 but become intimate in a way that makes my brothers drool. Ha. and b) I get to go back to the base where I had basic training and talk to my Mefakedet's like we are both normal people which not-so-secretly thrills me and c) I get to wear a cool jumpsuit.

But as my training doesnt start for another week, it also means they had to find something to do with me so I dont go soft with a week's vacation. So they sent me to a base that is close to home (only two hours by bus! oh joy) to do, well, busywork. 

So I get to my new base on Monday, thrilled to see at least 8 F-15's flying overhead, and spent another few lovely hours sitting around before they were like "Uh, we cant process you today, too much going on, come back on Wednesday". Sweet.

I enjoyed my time off, and then headed back again on Wednesday, this time an hour and a half late, and it once again didnt matter In fact, I had timed it perfectly because about 20 minutes after I got there, they needed the room we were waiting in so they sent me and six other girls off with a man named Michel. Michel gave us to his adorably nerdy secretary who then spent the rest of the day shuttling us around the base to get our clearance form signed. They sent us home at 4:30 with instructions to be back on base at 7:30 every morning. I am still trying to get them to give me a place to sleep as this means I have to be up by 5 am.

Anyway, by now its Thursday, I arrive on base and after making me sweep the dirt for like 40 minutes they sent me to the armory where I became Forrest Gump. Oh and they also made me mop the dirt. Dont really know whats with them and trying to clean the ground. Especially since they kept making me use horribly corrosive un-environmental chemicals. 

Anyway, I am off for Shabbat and enjoying all my free time although it does feel really strange so fresh out of the lock-down that is basic training. But as I am very quickly learning, nothing the army does makes sense but is working out ok for me so far so I am not going to complain.

Oh and to the 30+ people who are going to be in my house for Thanksgiving- I MISS YOU ALREADY! My roommate is planning a small Thanksgiving dinner, but it is just not going to be the same without my Momma's massive turkey and my dad's mashed taters, and Shosh's biscuits, and Aunt Z's sweet potatoes. And Nat, I am making pumpkin pie just because I cant imagine Thanksgiving without it. In fact, its hard to imagine Thanksgiving without the family craziness, so YOU BETTER CALL ME!

Basic training is like learning to be a duck

 I had an epiphany the other day while marching after my Mefakedet and realized that soldiers are basically well-armed ducks. How so, you ask? Allow me to elaborate:

Firstly, the first and most important thing we learn is how to follow the leader. If you were to peek onto our base during training you would find our mother ducks/mefakedets marching around closely followed by their ducklings/soldiers. And woe unto she who falls behind or out of line, because Mama Duck sure knows how to scold.

Secondly, the ability to wade through lake-size puddles is an important trait come winter-time in Israel. While we lack that nice oily sheen that keeps us dry, that does not stop us from standing, marching, running, and sitting in the rain as if being perpetually wet was the most natural state for a human being.

Thirdly, not only do 18 year old girls tend to eat like birds, but the army loves to feed us nothing but bread and will frequently regurgitate breakfast and serve it as dinner.

Okay, enough of that analogy. I am done with basic training and that is the exciting part. I have finished all of my tests, am now certified to carry a gun, and most importantly, I got my first piece of army bling- the awesome Air Force pin I put on my beret.

We had our ceremony on Monday (which I unfortunately have no pictures of), and I was named the Mitztayenet of our Machlaka. Which means, that of the 61 girls in my group, my mefakedets' all thought that I was the best soldier. And the coolest part was the girls all agreed and told me I deserved it. So at our Tekes (ceremony), I and the four girls chosen from the other Machlakas went up to the front, saluted the general of the base and received certificates and handshakes and "Good Job"s from the big man with all the knots on his shoulder. There was some embarrassment during practice while I tried to perfect the Israeli version of "Hut" in order to signal to all the girls when we should salute, but it all worked out in the end.

After that, we all swore ourselves to the army, first repeating the oath as a group, and then each individually being handed a gun and Tanach (Bible) and shouting "I swear!" to our Mem'Mem. I cannot even begin to describe how it felt to walk up there and shout my allegiance to the Israeli army. I cried, of course, because I was just so overwhelmed with emotion it had to come out somehow. At that moment I really became an Israeli soldier and all the running through the rain and crawling through the dirt and standing for hours in the sun- it was all worth that moment. I don't even know what I will be doing for the next year, but thats okay, because whatever it is, its going to be for the IDF and thats all that really matters.

I have to say that at that moment I also very much felt like a lone soldier and wished my parents were there so my mother could cheer so loudly I would blush and my father could watch us march around in formation and salute with our guns. My friends came to support me, but missed the whole ceremony (thus no pictures). They did however bring love and cookies and a much needed show of pride and emotional support.

Anyway, I am off for Shabbat and headed back on Sunday to hopefully find out what I will be doing for the next 11 months. I am thrilled to be home where I can shower alone and wash all my clothes and eat whatever I want whenever I want. And of course, so I can come online and catch up with everyone. Because even though its only been 2 1/2 weeks, it felt like months. Its crazy how life can change in such a short time.