להיות עם חופשי בארצינו

This week was both Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day) and Yom Ha'atzmeut (Independence Day), coming one week after Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Memorial Day) and three weeks after Passover. This is my second year here experiencing this transition of holidays as an Israeli, but I think this year was more real for me in many ways.

This Passover involved alot of firsts for me, including being in a completely new environment for Seder. For the first time I was not with my family (or adopted family), and I had never been to such a small Seder before. But it allowed me to share new thoughts, hear new thoughts, and experience Yitziat Mizrayim (the Exodus from Egypt) in a whole new way. The Rabbi on my base also told me something this year that allowed me to look at Passover and Yom Ha'Shoah in a whole new way. We were talking about faith in the truth of the events that are described in the Torah, and he told me the following:

Despite the photographs, the physical evidence, and the recorded testimonies, there are still those that deny that the Holocaust ever happened. There are still survivors of that atrocity alive and yet there are those that say there is no proof that it really happened. What will it be like 50 years from now? 100? Imagine, if each Yom Ha'Shoah, all the Jews in each community gathered in one room, ate some sort of symbolic food like what they had in the camps, and told the story of the Holocaust. They read testimonies from during and after. They told their children the story of the Holocaust and acted out parts of the story using certain foods or symbols to accentuate their points. If we did this every year, the Holocaust would never be forgotten-  but would our children ever reach a point where they thought it was just a weird tradition about a fictional story? When Bnei Yisrael left Egypt there were no photographs, no videos, no paperwork, and the survivors died out long ago. All we have is stories, written testimonies and the tradition to sit and retell our history to our children every year. This is our proof. Believing that Hashem took us out of Egypt does not need to be an act of faith. 

As I stood in silence with the rest of Israel as the sirens went off around the country and we remembered all those who have fallen in the fight for a Jewish homeland, I knew we would never forget what it cost us to be here. And as I wandered the streets of Jerusalem that night, surrounded by Israelis from age 4 to 90, all out celebrating the creation of a Jewish state, I knew that we would never stop appreciating what Hashem has given us. Last month we relived the exodus from Egypt, we remembered what it was to become a free people. Our journey to become a nation was not a simple one. Over a hundred years of slavery followed by a hurried chase to the Red Sea and a spiritually and physically challenging trek to Har Sinai where we recieved the Torah and officially became the Jewish people. But even than, our journey was not over and we had to wander through the desert for 40 more years before we were prepared to start fighting for our country. The Torah describes the generations of trials and difficulties we went through to become a nation. It tells us of the spiritual cleansing we had to go through to earn the Torah, and the battles we had to fight, amongst ourselves as well as with our enemies, before we earned the Land of Israel. It took hundreds of years to become a nation of Israel with the Torah of Israel, in the Land of Israel.

And then our kingdom faltered, our country was conquered, our Temple destroyed, and our nation dispersed. For two thousand years we fought to hold on to our Torah, we fought to hold on to our nation. We survived the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, and even the Holocaust. We have lost parts of our nation, and parts of our Torah, but we had lost all of our land. We fought to maintain a presence there, in Jerusalem, and Tzfat, and Hevron. Herzl and the Zionist Congress fought to keep the idea of Jewish homeland alive. And then, 62 years ago, the Jewish people once again had a country. 

I cannot imagine how it felt to celebrate our first Yom Ha'Atzmeut, to commemorate our first Yom Ha'Zikaron. But I do know what it feels like, as a Jew, as an Israeli, and as a soldier in Tzahal, to celebrate our 62nd. And being a part of this nation, being a part of this country, we are never going to forget how we got here and what it means to be a free nation in our land– להיות עם חופשי בארצינו

"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

When I am married and old I will wear ridiculously large hats

This week has been all about enjoying the small pleasures of being an adult with no job. There was alot of dancing around my apartment in my pajamas, alot of sleeping in and staying up late, and alot of cereal because I didnt feel like cooking. Twas wonderful.

I did get out of the house occasionally, and went to the arts and crafts festival outside the old city. They have booths from all over the world selling clothes and art and jewelry (I got to try on some craaazy hats- see attached pic), and performers set up throughout the fair. I got to watch some Korean dancers shake it to "Celebrate", and most importantly, I finally got to go to a fair where I could eat the food. Unfortunately no one in this country has ever heard of funnel cake :( but I had some excellent cotton candy AND I got my face painted :) Yehudit Ravitz was also playing, but I got there too late and couldnt get into the concert, so I had to dance outside with the few hundred other Israelis that didnt make it in.

Today was a day for Israeliness. I spent the morning at the Shuk marvelling at the hairy Israeli men trying to outshout each other and the Bubbe's pushing their carts through the crowd, while loading up on the amazingly fresh veggies. Then I prepared an Israeli salad for 25, cutting all of my vegetables into very tiny pieces (all 11 cucumbers and 9 tomatoes) and eliciting quite a few "my how Israeli of you" compliments during dinner. Why, you ask was I making salad for 25? Well tonight, four friends and I hosted a Sheva Brachot for David and Davida. (The week after a Jewish couple gets married there are seven meals hosted for them, at which, if you have ten men, seven blessings are said for the newlyweds.) Unfortunately, this was a Sheva Brachot for all of Davida's friends, and we ended up with only four men and were not going to be able to say the brachot (blessings). But, as the determined young souls we were, we did not give up. First we called the Rabbi and made sure that we couldnt do it with ten women, and then, we scoured the park where we were eating trying to wrangle up some Jewish men. After about twenty minutes and a slightly awkward interruption of a Tai Chi class, we had gathered the necessary men (we even got one extra!) and were able to say the Sheva Brachot. My favorite part was knowing that we could walk up to strange men in a park and tell them we were trying to make a minyan (a group of ten men), and not only did they know what we were talking about, but they eagerly came to participate.

Anyway, I am headed up north tomorrow to go camp on the beach so I am going to go to bed now. OH! I forgot to tell some of you. I am flying to America next week :) I will be landing in NY on the 20th, and heading to boston for the weekend. I will then be visiting the g'rents up in NH, coming back to NY for shabbat and from then on Im all MD!! Ill be in the DC metropolitan area for about three weeks and would love to see everyone! So email, fb, after the 30th I will have a cell phone. I should warn you, that I cannot plan anything too far in advance. So sorry if that makes me kind of flaky.

השיבינו ה' אליך

Yesterday was Tisha B'Av, the anniversary of the destruction of both the first and second Temples. It is a day where we mourn the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temples and the sins that brought it upon us. We physically mourn, by fasting and not showering, and sitting on the floor. We read Eicha (Lamentations) and are supposed to spend the day feeling sadness for what we have lost.

Wednesday night, I went to the Kotel (the Western Wall) to read Eicah with my roommate, Davida, and her brother, Nadav. Despite this being a sad day, the Kotel tends to be a bit of a social scene the night of Tisha B'Av. There are alot of people there, as it is the closest spot to where the Temple once stood that Jews can go. Some come to mourn, some come to pray, and some come because its what everyone else is doing that night. They extend the mechitzah, the divider between the mens section and the womens section, and the plaza is patrolled by what I like to call the "Mechitzah Police". These are religious individuals who take it upon themselves to ensure that nothing "inappropriate" is happening and that all genders are on their appropriate side. I have encountered them once before, on Yom Yerushalayim, where they were creating physical barriers (Red Rover style) to ensure that women were not dancing with men. To put it simply, they pissed me off then, and I felt no need to listen to a bunch of teenagers that were trying to tell me where to stand. Anyway, Davida, Nadav, and I sat down towards the back of the plaza so that we could read together. Before we could start, we were approached by a woman in a neon vest (Mechitzah Police) and told that we could not sit there together and if we wanted to sit together we would have to leave the plaza area. Pointing out the dozen or so men wandering about the area and clarifying that Nadav was Davidas brother did not seem to help, and as she refused to move until we did, we eventually got up to look for a new spot. I was, shall we say, angry. Which, in turn, upset me because it was Tisha B'Av and I didnt want to be angry at another Jew. Our Sages say that the first Temple was destroyed because of three things: sexual immorality, murder, and idolatry. That lead to 70 years in exile. The second Temple was destroyed for one reason, sinat chinam, baseless hatred. And we are still in exile for that today.

It pained me to fight with another Jew on this night, and as we read Eicha, I struggled with my reactions to this encounter. She upset me because I felt that she did not respect us and the way we connect to Hashem. It upset me that she felt the need to push her religious standard on me. But if I argue with her, if I refuse her request to move, how am I respecting her connection? She is doing what she believes is right, trying to protect the holiness of this evening and this place. I did not want to be angry with her.

We had settled down next to one of the mechitza walls (on the mens side) and after reading Eicha, I went over to the womens section to pray, leaving Nadav and Davida sitting there. When I came back, there was a Mechitza Policeman arguing with Nadav and a woman sitting near them, while Davida was crying. Apparantly Davida had been lying down with Nadav sitting next to her and this man told her to leave because she was being immodest. Now there are hundreds of people walking around, sitting on the ground, and lying on the ground all around us, but, he said, that because Davida was a woman it was not modest for her to be lying on the ground. Davida sat up and said that she wasnt moving, and that she understood that he said what he needed to according to his principles and that she was going to stay there because of her principles. He didnt really like this answer and then turned to Nadav to try to get her to move. I am not sure what happened after that, but when I walked over Davida was crying, Nadav was sitting with her, and a random woman was arguing on Davida's behalf. This was one of those moments where I wished I was more eloquent in Hebrew, but I basically said, "It is Tisha Bav and you are making another Jew cry." to which he replied "It is good to cry on Tisha Bav" and walked away. He later returned to give us flyers about baseless hatred.

We read about all the horrible things that Bnei Yisrael did to Hashem that brought about the first destruction. Our nation is compared to a whore and as I read about the sins we committed and how we turned our backs on God, I understand our punishment. The sins that brought about the second destruction are not as present in our biblical texts, but it is when things like this happen that I see why we are still in galut, in exile.

These past few months at PresenTense we spent alot of time discussing modern day Zionism and how there is still so much that needs to be done. Jews are supposed to be a light unto the nations, and in the modern world, Israel is not. We are not. We are so divided, and so busy fighting with each other, how could we be a light unto others? It was inspiring to see so many individuals coming together and trying to change the face of the Jewish world. These are people that see problems in where we stand as Jews or as Israelis and are working to fix them. That man was right, it is good to cry on Tisha B'Av, because those tears helped me realize what we are mourning. We live in a world where too many people do not respect each other, let alone love each other. Rav Kook teaches that "Ha'ahava tzricha lehiot male balev lakol"- literally, "The love needs to be filling your heart towards everything/one". Baseless hatred can only be fought with baseless love. But how can we learn to love each other when we cannot even respect each other?

Sending my love, and hoping it spreads,

Kfi