How do you say "dual-action cylinder" in Hebrew?

Shavua Tov and a Happy New Year (of trees that is)!

This Friday was Tu B'Shvat, the Jewish new year for trees. It is a festival of growth and nature and in more recent years- environmentalism. Last year, I celebrated by going to a Tu B'Shvat Seder- a meal of sorts with lots of symbolism- with a lot of hippies. It was a pretty cool experience in which I contemplated a lot of fruit and heard some pretty cool spiritual thoughts about winter (my favorite being that we all have to go through patches of cold and misery because it is during that time that we are preparing for the growth and warmth of spring. It is that time that not only makes us strong, but lets us truly appreciate the happy flowery turnaround.)

This year was a little different. I met up with a friend and we quite accidentally stumbled upon the Jerusalem Municipality celebration. They had my favorite pre-pubescent boys choir singing in little white tuxedos with red cummerbunds, and even better there was a fleet of oddly decorated men on stilts. They were wandering up and down Ben Yehuda street personifying various aspects of nature. There was a man covered in flowing white cloth and cherry blossoms, another who looked like he had been attacked by the fake flower section at Marshall's, and one who was dressed up as a tree with quite impressive foliage. A woman dressed as a giant strawberry was giving a speech from a balcony and showering her spectators with flowers, while the balcony next to her held some sort of wood nymph blowing bubbles. I was pet by a man in a flower pot, but unfortunately the picture was not taken on my camera, so I will have to show that to you at a later time.

The rest of the week was not quite so exciting. After a few days with the english teacher in my office it became quite clear that I am not in fact capable of teaching technical english in hebrew to people who do not speak a word of english (which really makes me doubt the advisability of letting them fix airplanes when they cant read the manuals, but that is another issue). So after a few meetings with my commander, I am slowly trying to get through the bureaucratic process of switching jobs. As I am slowly but surely learning how things work in the army, I also have been calling everyone I know in the army (and everyone they know in the army) and trying to get someone important enough interested in me enough to pull me into their job. I have been talking to a lot of people in the IDF spokespersons unit as well as in the Foreign Relations unit. It is very unclear who might be able to actually help me and how long it might take, and well, pretty much all the details are unclear. But as I spent the week vacuuming bird poop off of chairs, I am getting kind of desperate. 

That being said, it was not a bad week, and while my job or lack thereof is still frustrating, I am not letting it get me down and I am trying to enjoy the time I am spending where I am. It is charming company when they arent stripping, and I actually think they are going to miss me. Boris practically threw a hissy fit when I told him. 

It is hard for me to feel that I am wasting my time when there are many more productive things I can think of doing, but as I learned last year from some smelly hippies in Nachlaot, sometimes we have to work our way through the hard cold patches to get to the good stuff. I have faith that there is a reason I am where I am right now, but also understand that it is up to me to make something out of what and where Hashem puts me. If I want my situation in the army to change, it is up to me and me alone to make sure that it does. So I am going to keep pushing, keep calling, keep bugging, and keep trucking on. I feel very much like the little engine that could or Dory from Finding Nemo.

I think I can and Ill just keep swimming and I wish you all a wonderful week!

Conundrum is an understatement

This week the army was in its prime. My temporary status finally ended and I was sent back to the Yamam, who is in charge of sending soldiers to where they are needed. I was sent there after basic training and they sent me to the helicopter course. I was sent there after they kicked me out of the helicopter course and they tried to send me to Eilat. I argued, and they sent me for a week to the base I have been at for the past month. Luckily I have learned by now to sleep in and take my time getting there, as inevitably you end up sitting outside on a bench for three or four hours waiting to hear something like your name shouted from the incredibly fuzzy loudspeaker. 

So on Monday I packed my book, charged my ipod, woke up late and headed to Tel Aviv to see where they would try to send me now. Keep in mind, that for the past month I have been talking to the commander on my base about being an English teacher there, and had seemed to have put together a plan for me. But alas, man plans and the Yamam laughs. So when I finally got called in to talk to someone, I, well I think its best if I transcribe it for you:

Yamam: We are going to send you to be a secretary.

My Head: WTF???

My voice: Really? I thought I was going to be an english teacher.

Yamam: No, theres no chance you can be an english teacher.

My Head: WTF????

My Voice: Well, I was under the impression that I just spent a month on this base so that I could become an English teacher.

Yamam: Well who told you that?

My Head: You did you *&@#^*$&#*&@#!!!! Right after you wasted a month of my time sending me to a course I couldnt take. A-hole.

My Voice: Um, you did.

Yamam: Go wait outside.

So I went outside and immediatly called my commander and told him they had no idea what I was talking about. So he said he would call and I sat down to wait for another hour. Eventually they called me back in and told me to come back tomorrow and they would see if I could be an English teacher.

My commander called me back and told me that the English teaching office was on the same base and that I should go see them before going to the Yamam. So the next day I went and talked to them first and they told me all about the job- which is teaching english in hebrew (?) and then gave me a hebrew test that consisted of translating a paragraph. I then went to the Yamam, sat their until 2:30 and finally got called into the office. The man looked at me like we had never spoken of this before and said " We are going to send you to Chazor (my base) to be an English teacher, okay?". And I got my little paper and got all excited that I finally had a job.

So I go back to my base, spent all Wednesday meeting with all the various offices I needed to see to finish my clearance and showed up on Thursday ready to work.

On Thursday my commander called me into his office and said I had not passed my test and was not deemed qualified for the job they had already given me. But since he thinks I can do it, he will still let me, this just means I cant go to the course. 

So the army has given me a job they say I am not qualified for and therefore refuse to train me. Oh, the army...

Momma Week

This week was Ima Week. My mother arrived on Sunday and was super excited to see me despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that I was late picking her up from the airport. She was thrilled to be out of the freezing snow in Prague (where she had spent the previous week) and into the warm Middle-Eastern January of Jerusalem.

It was a quiet week ( I had off from the army, of course) as my mother was only interested in a) hanging out with me b) shopping and c) eating out. This was perfectly fine with me because not only did I get to see my mom, but I got lots of pretty new jewelry and ate like a kosher-abiding pig. Our days mainly consisted of: Sleep in, eat out, walk, shop, walk, eat, shop, walk, eat, shop, walk, eat, shop, eat, walk, sleep. It was pretty awesome. 

We did venture up to Tel Aviv on Tuesday where I took my mother to a dance show at the Suzanne Dellal Center for the Arts. The Center is located in one of the older neighborhoods of Tel Aviv that borders with Yaffo. It is beautiful and historical and after reading Exodus, I am much more appreciative of the fact that Tel Aviv was the first all-Jewish city built in Israel. It was also nice to get out of Jerusalem and join into the beautiful, exciting art scene up in Tel Aviv. I began to wonder why I don't spend more time in Tel Aviv. Then, after trying four different restaurants and failing to find any kosher ones, we finally sat down and had ice cream for dinner and I remembered why I don't like Tel Aviv. The dancing however, was quite spectacular. But then again, it was the Jerusalem School for the Arts...

Other than that, it was mostly shopping and eating. I got to have burgers, sushi, mac and cheese, salmon stir fry, ice cream, hot cocoa, donuts, poached fish on a bed of something fancy, squash soup and all sorts of delicious salads. I ate like a queen this week :)

I also got to hear from my mother all about what Jerusalem was like in the 70's when she was first here and how much it has grown since then. 

Anyway, my mother took off last night and all I am left with is a bunch of dirty sheets and some awesome new necklaces. (Not to mention the suitcase of supplies she brought me from America- Thanks Ima!!). It was kind of a whirlwind of a week. It felt so natural to have her here that I havent quite processed the fact that she is gone again. Or that it is almost Shabbat. Really didnt think about that at all this week, so now I have to go get ready.

Spacing out can be dangerous

Not much happened this week except for the ridiculous story that I am about to tell. It seems almost definite that I will be staying in the office I am currently in and will be trained to be an english teacher. I will be teaching officers, which should be fun, and thank the lord, there will be another teacher joining me. Why am I so excited for her to come? Well this week I truly learned what it meant to be the only woman in an office full of men. I was aware of this fact before, as the most common topic of discussion in our office is poop (which I unfortunatly cannot tune out as it is always accompanied with sound effects) but this week we reached a whole new level. The underwear level.

It started on Monday. I was sitting in my usual chair which faces the whole office and gives me a view of each of the three desks. There is one corner of the room that I cant see from there which is the space behind my commanders desk. There were a few people in the office talking, and I was reading my book as usual. My commander, Roi, apparently forgot I was in the room and began to change into his jumpsuit. As he was standing in that conveniently invisible corner, I was unaware of his state of undress until he walked out from behind his desk and yelled "Kfirah! I forgot you were here!" At which point I looked up and got a full frontal view of his red underwear. He is a briefs man, I learned, before running out of the office laughing. 

Now this was funny, it was an obvious accident (though I dont know why none of the other guys in the office didnt mention that I was there), and everytime Roi retold the story his facial expressions got better.

On Tuesday, I was wandering through the building looking for Boris, and stuck my head into one of the offices, to once again find myself facing an underwear clad man. As this was one of the older and religious men in the office, I quickly retreated muttering to myself about closing doors and didnt say anything.

Until Wednesday, when Almog, my other commander, proceeded to change in the room without warning me going so far as to shake his butt in my direction as he walked by. Luckily, Im a space cadet, and missed most of the show. But when they saw me covering my eyes (once I had noticed) and heard my short rant about too many naked men in the office, they seemed to remember that I am religious and that all the exhibition might make me uncomfortable. I did not discourage their thinking.

Almog apparently still thinks it is funny, for on Thursday he once again failed to give me warning when he began to change, but having become more attuned to the state of dress in the office, I noticed before the pants came off and turned away. 

It seems that my next nine months here will be fraught with more peril that I had imagined. 

Speaking of peril, I have another funny story. I dont know whether they are still broadcasting all those commercials about the dangers of texting and driving, but you should believe them all!! Texting is super dangerous. Had I been driving home tonight I would have died. As I dont have a car, I was simply texting while walking home, which proves to be similarly dangerous. As I learned when I walked into a tree.

So lessons of the week:

1) Pay attention to the presence of pants

2) Dont text while in forward motion

Warning: I get kind of sappy when I reminisce

Believe it or not, it has been a whole year since I moved here and started sending these emails. Crazy, right?

I was reminiscing a bit this week, helped in part by my four friends that just made aliyah on Wednesday. I went to greet them at the airport, and even though they had a much more impressive ceremony than I did, it was still a weird flashback. It feel pretty cool to be able to help them and talk to them about all the fears and worries and technicalities that plague new olim. Its kind of weird to realize that I am now the experienced one, despite the fact that it all still feels like a new adventure.

I was thinking about going back and talking about how I feel differently and what things no longer bother me and what things I have found that I love. But it came out kind of silly. Because the truth is, what I am figuring out more and more every day is that it doesnt matter if the banks charge you for everything or if theres not good cheddar cheese here or even if the army has lost me in their maze of paperwork and left me at a job where I dont really do anything.

Because last night I had a party celebrating my aliyahversary and I was surrounded by friends. I had old friends, and friends that are really family, and friends I barely know, and friends I have made in the past year. And they all came for me, they came because they are proud of me or support me, or just wanted to hang out with me. And that is all that really matters.

This was a hard year, I have told you some of it, but the worst moments never quite made it into email form. But I can look back and see where it started to change, where I started to be happier and feel more fulfilled, and it was when I- how did Ron put it- built a community of people around me that I care about. And that care about me. The hardest thing to leave was you- all of you that care about me and that I care about. And a year later, I can say that that circle has grown to include the geographic area in which I now reside :) 

"Patience, I say, there is no shortcut."

So first things first, my job. My job is... unclear. I am in a new office on a new base near Gedera, about a 40 min bus ride from Jerusalem. Which means it only takes me about 2 hours to get from home to my office, and they let me go home every night. I am working with a group of older male officers, who are incredibly funny and immature in all the right ways, not the annoying ways. It is in an office, which is not at all what I wanted, but its a very nice work environment, and no one asks me to make them coffee. As for what I do, well this week it was mostly reading (finished Call of the Wild and In the Land of Israel by Amos Oz- which I highly recommend), but if I stay there I will be doing some combination of a) teaching english, b) teaching Microsoft Office, and c) making a movie about how you have to make sure to check the air something so that something doesnt happen and the plane doesnt crash. I clearly understood the technical aspects of this movie.

The exciting part of my week was that I got to go on two tours. The first was of my base- there was a group of visiting high school electricians (yes, they learn this stuff in hs here) that came to learn about the types of jobs they could have in the army. So I got to see all the electrical whatnots that they put in the plane and learn about all the smart bombs and cool technology that the Israeli army is using these days. And I got to go near the F-16's which was a little sad, but mostly cool.

The second tour was to the IDF museum and Etzel museum in Yaffo. Etzel is one of the military groups that fought before the War of Independence and eventually joined the Haganah to form the Israeli army. They are also the ones that blew up the King David hotel, and at one point managed to steal 10 tons of artillery from the British army with about 10 men. The IDF museum is in the old Turkish train station and houses basically everything military and historical, from Ben Gurions car (he drove a Ford!) to every tank and gun they could get their hands on. It was kind of crazy learning about each of the Israeli wars (from a non-Diaspora Jew perspective) and seeing the weapons that they were using. The War of Independence really is a freaking miracle- these people were armed with Mexican canons from the 1900's and weapons they designed, like the Davidka, which doesnt really do so much but makes a really big noise. And that was frequently enough to scare away the Arab forces they were fighting. And as we went forward in time through each war and the crazy odds we were against, its really amazing that we still exist.

And then we got to the war on terror, which we are still fighting now and I just started to get angry. Its ridiculous that 60 something years later we still have to fight to be recognized, still have to argue that we deserve to be here, still have to deal with people who want to deny our right to exist.

And the craziest part about it is that while I am getting all worked up and upset about what our tour guide is telling us, all these other soldiers are taking it in stride. True, some of them just arent paying attention, but for the most part, they are just used to it. They are used to the fact that this is how it is and even if they agree that it is unjust and unfair, it doesnt get to them because it is no longer fresh.

I feel like every day I learn something new about Israel or Israelis and every time I am shocked by the strength and endurance that they show. I have heard Americans be accused of being naive and optimistic, and I am beginning to understand why that is a bad thing to Israelis. I see how they can look at us and think we are silly for clinging so dearly to our ideals of fairness and justice for all when they are fighting nail and tooth to stay alive. But I also see how important it is, that there are still those who are young and idealistic and willing to sacrifice for what they believe is right.

I have long found myself torn between the democratic ideals and beliefs I have been raised with and the determination to help Israel survive and remain a Jewish land despite, and in spite of, those who wish to see us destroyed. Because the truth is, they frequently clash. The clash of democracy vs theocracy, of security vs. equality, nationality vs. humanity. And I dont have the answer for it all, I dont have any solutions, and while at times it becomes overwhelming and I just dont want to think about it anymore and dont want to argue about it anymore- I thank God that I have not become complacent. That I still feel the injustices, on both sides of the spectrum, and that I still believe that we can find some kind of equilibrium

Eight Holy Nights

So everyone Jewish knows, that unlike Christmas, Hannukah just doesnt have that many good songs. I mean, the radio stations start playing carols months before Christmas, but there is only one Hannukah song ever interspersed amongst them. Thank God for Adam Sandler.

One would think the situation would improve in Israel, but alas, they only have two or three Hannukah songs that they just put on repeat. And they arent as good as Adam's. Not only that, but since the Christian population in Israel is mostly Arab- there are no Christmas carols either! And I'll admit it, Im still American enough that I kind of miss the whole Christmas cheer- the lights, the songs, the strange men in red inviting children to sit on their laps...

So my friend Ari and I solved both of these problems by coming up with a Channukah Carol to which I am dedicating this email.

On the first night of Channukah, my Saba (grandfather) gave to me- 1 Channukiahhhhh

On the first night of Channukah, the good Lord gave to me- a last minute shuttle that got me to my Rabbi's house in Beit Shemesh just in time to light candles. He also blessed me with a Rabbi and wife who like me so much that I could call them six hours before Shabbat and invite myself to their already crowded house.

On the second night of Channukah, my Savta (grandmother) gave to me- 2 dreidels and one Channukiahhhh

On the second night of Channukah my Rabbi's wife gave to me- a pair of fuzzy toe socks that I got to enjoy for a total of five minutes before her daughters stole them. But it was a really nice thought.

On the third night of Channukah, my Saba gave to me- 3 Sufganiyot (jelly donuts), 2 dreidels, and one Channukiahhhh

On the third night of Channukah, my Momma gave to me- a giant basket of cookies, chocolates, balloons and a teddy bear. Which was just what I needed, as that day I had returned to Haifa to be processed off my base. I spent the whole day waiting around for the people I had been really excited to have teach me, process the paperwork to kick me off base. It sucked. (The base part, the cookies were actually really good)

On the fourth night of Channukah, my Savta gave to me- 4 potato latkas, 3 Sufganiyot, 2 dreidels, and one Channukiahhhh

On the fourth night of Channukah, the good Jews of Israel reminded me why I am proud to serve in the IDF. I spent the day in Tel Aviv arguing with somebody important and eventually landing some sort of job that involves English. Neither she nor I really understood what this job is, but they are letting me try it out for a week, starting on Sunday. This also meant I got a Channukah vacation :)

That night, the group I used to volunteer for- Standing Together- sponsored a Channukah party for lone soldiers (those of us volunteering with no parents in the country). I got a free dinner, a lovely package of socks and men's deodorant, and most importantly, I had some charming elderly Americans and adorable South African teenage boys tell me how proud and thankful they were that we were serving in the Israeli army. Also, the man I used to volunteer for was shocked that I had switched sides and was incredibly proud of me. To put it simply, it was really good for my morale.

On the fifth night of Channukah, my Saba gave to me- 5 pieces of gelt, 4 potato latkas, 3 Sufganiyot, 2 dreidels, and one Channukiahhhhh

On the fifth night of Channukah, Tamara Fine-Skversky gave me the opportunity to see the holiday lights- Israel style. Ari and I went and volunteered where Tamara works, in the depths of Mea Shearim and spent most of the afternoon cutting vegetables (with which they prepare healthy meals for the elderly). We finished just as it was getting dark, and as we walked out into the incredibly charedi (ultra-orthodox) neighborhood, we encountered dozens of religious families standing outside their homes lighting their Channukiahs, singing, and dancing. While the small oil-burning candelabras may not be as impressive as a giant blow up Santa or a block of bedazzled rafters, it was pretty cool to walk through the windy back streets of Jerusalem and see candles burning at every doorstep.

It was also the first night I had someone else to light with, as Ari and I picked up Thai food, and lit together at his apartment. Its way more fun to light with friends.

On the sixth night of Channukah, my Savta gave to me- 6 Sidrei Mishna, 5 pieces of gelt, 4 potato latkas, 3 Sufganiyot, 2 dreidels, and one Channukiahhhhh

On the sixth night of Channukah, the awesomeness that is Caroline Battle (www.carolinebattle.com) gave me a much needed kick in the pants and I pulled out my art supplies for the first time in too long. I spent the day getting ink on my shirt and glue on my fingers and charcoal, well, everywhere.

The creative streak stuck with me, and that night I made latkas for the first time, smoked up our apartment (just like home!) and forced my roommates to eat them. We lit together, chowed down on oily potato pancakes and applesauce, and exchanged giant pieces of gelt. It was almost like family :)

On the seventh night of Channukah, my Saba gave to me- 7 Maccabis, 6 Sidrei Mishna, 5 pieces of gelt, 4 potato latkas, 3 Sufganiyot, 2 dreidels, and one Channukiahhhhh

On the seventh night, oh, well, thats right now. On the seventh night my friend Daniel gave me a party. Well its not really for me, its for him, but I get to go, so its kinda like a present. One that I have to go get dressed for now. So I will quickly conclude.

On the eight night of Channukah, my Savta gave to me- 8 pachs of oil, 7 Maccabis, 6 Sidrei Mishna, 5 pieces of gelt, 4 potato latkas, 3 Sufganiyot, 2 dreidels, and one Channukiahhhhh!!!!