Adi's Amazing Adventures

Thursday, May 6, 2010

From Sadness to Celebration in 62 Seconds: Part II

Country-Wide Party

While I usually like to travel around and get a taste of everything, I decided to stay in the capital for the entirety of Yom Ha’Atzmaut and really enjoy my Jerusalem experience.
And that, I did. I went from party to party seeing what it was all about. With Josh, Danielle (and some Nativers), we ventured out. We took a journey through the generations:

Tayelet – for young families
Fireworks over the merkaz for everyone to enjoy
Down town (Rehov Hillel) – for high schoolers
Shuk – for 18+ - this was spectacular! Mahaneh Yehuda was literally jam packed with people just having a good time. The area was so crowded it was hard to move.
Rikudai Am in Safra Square – for the older crowd (but not really). Even arriving at 2:30am, this is one of the most amazing things I have seen during my time here. It was a municipal plaza filled with hundreds of people of all ages dancing Rikudai Am(both folk and modern) together (WATCH HERE)! I have never seen so many people, from all walks of life, be so coordinated and dance together. This, I believe, was a TRUE Israeli moment.

There was just something about the celebration that made it very different than July 4^th. Here, there is simply a lot of national pride and people celebrate the country’s independence like their best friend’s birthday.
The next morning, after waking up to Yerushalayim Shel Zahav on the radio, we set off to make a mangal. Lee, Danielle, and I organized a group of our friends and BBQed, like everyone else in the city, in Gan Soccer. Thank you to the Epstein Family for sponsoring this event. It was a blast! In true Israeli spirit, since our Mini (crap) Mangal stoves didn’t work, we borrowed our neighbors’.
Although the polls say that Israelis entered this Yom Ha’Atzmaut with few expectations for peace and their government in the coming year, the sight of a park filled with every type of citizen – black, white, eastern, western, Ashkenazi, Sephardi, doctor, and driver – all celebrating side-by-side (admittedly a bit of a rosy picture), gave me a glimmer of hope for the future of Israel.

From From Sadness to Celebration in 62 Seconds

Mishlachat Extravaganza

Speaking of Israeli spirit, if there’s one thing we don’t understand in Camp, it is Mishlachat. Well, I didn’t until this year…

In February, I, with some other Berkshires peers, helped conduct interviews for the Summer 2010 Mishlachat. After many forms, tests, and other interviews, this was the end of the application process for them. But, for me, this was the beginning of understanding a different side of Camp. The shlichim we have in camp are essentially the best of the best Israelis (which is why many American kids think that all Israelis were commanders in elite combat units).
Once the Mishlachat is selected, they must go through intense training before coming to America. The main seminar, with over 500 shlichim, took place two weeks ago. They learn how to be representatives, work with American campers, and most of all they are psyched up for an amazing summer. Josh (Goldberg), Lee, and I were privileged to see this in action.
It was an incredible Shabbat!!! Now that I have seen almost the entire process forMishlachat, I have a new found appreciation for them. We had the opportunity to hang out with returning members of Mishlachat with whom we never got the chance to speak in camp. This year's group is wonderful!
We hope to convey what we've experience and seen on behalf of the Mishlachat to the rest of the American staff. I think if they understood what the Israelis have to go through in order to come to Camp they would better appreciate, befriend, and utilize these fantastic and talented people. In addition to gaining more appreciation for Mishlalchat, being at the seminar made me super excited for camp!

With the spirit of Am Yisrael,

Adi

Befuddlements

· I don’t get it, it takes 6 million Jews to perish for Galgalatz to play three Hebrew songs in a row!

· Israelis love the tekes!

· I’m a native English speaker and have no idea what this means...

AYS

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

From Sadness to Celebration in 62 Seconds: Part I

Days to Remember

Yom Ha’Shoah

The week following Pesach life went back to normal, but not for long. On Monday, April 12, a siren sounded at 9am and the country commemorated the Holocaust. I took part in a Rothberg ceremony. Click here to see photos.
(In case you didn’t know, Israelis take ceremonies and their preparation very seriously. If you are ever in need of a good ceremony, find an Israeli to run it. For a simple Holocaust reading, we had 4-hour rehearsals into the late night and starting in the early morning, decorations at the entrances as well as on stage, and sound checks galore.)
Although during the siren I would have preferred to be at a major intersection to see the traffic stop or at Yad Veshem the night before, in a way it was very interesting to participate in an international ceremony. We had students read in their native tongue, totaling 7 languages, including German.
Nonetheless, since I missed the observation opportunity this time, I was committed to seeing the country freeze the next week on Yom Ha’Zikaron.

Yom Ha’Zikaron

Well, needless to say, next Sunday night this plan didn’t exactly work. I was with Lee and his parents in a taxi on our way to the national tekes at the Kotel. Many streets were closed and our taxi could not get too close to Zion Gate. So, we had to walk. What we thought was going to be a quick loop into the Old City, became a ½ marathon, leaving us in the middle of nowhere, between the City of David and the Southern Steps for the siren. While there was nobody around except for the four of us standing at attention, it was quite interesting to watch East Jerusalem traffic continue with business as usual.
We eventually made it to the Kotel. Although I couldn’t hear or see much, it was still an amazing site. Hundreds of people gathered to remember the countries heroes. After the ceremony, we were pleasantly surprised to see our friend, Dave Teitelbaum, who graduated college in the U.S. and (after being Rosh Al Hagova this past summer) came to Israel to serve in the IDF. Now as a tzanchan, there he was, in uniform, vest, and M-16 in hand, not in the tekes, but just doing his assigned guard duty. This was a moment to schep nachas!
There is a striking comparison between our Memorial Day sales in the States and stores closing on erev Yom Ha’Zikaron. Here, the streets become quiet in the afternoon as everyone goes home to prepare to attend a ceremony. You can’t even get a cup of coffee. The obvious difference is that in Israel, everyone, unfortunately, has been affected by the army and war in some way. Whereas many of us in the suburban northeast don’t even know one soldier and our closest connection to the U.S. Military is a grandfather who may have been drafted in WWII.
It was at this time that my personal conflict with being in Israel at my age was most strongly reinforced. As I have mentioned before, throughout the year I have felt a bit displaced in society. In anything I do, be it eating at a restaurant, studying in university, going to a concert, or attending a ceremony, the people are either older or younger than I. How can I merely enjoy the benefits of Israel, while everyone else my age is risking their lives, serving their country and protecting me? Moreover, while here, I have gained a large appreciation and felt very patriotic for America. Should I serve my country? If so, which one? And, is the army the only way to do so? For now, I continue to struggle with these questions.
Monday morning I was determined to watch the streets come to a standstill. I boarded Bus 4. While riding, a debate broke out. The bus could not follow its normal route because of protests in an ultra orthodox neighborhood. One old lady yelled out “blame the religious for all our problems.” Another more senior man replied, “it’s not them, it’s the Arabs!” Before we knew it, half the bus was involved in this classic left-right battle. Fear not, it wasn’t long before Lee and I got involved as well. But, the heated argument came to an end when an even older lady sitting in the middle of the crossfire shouted, as her dentures fell out, “stop making so much noise!”
At 11:00am we were at the intersection of King George and Jaffa St., a perfect place to be. It takes a moment for everyone to realize the siren is sounding, but just then, even though we had a green light, the bus driver stopped and stood up. Everyone on the street, even half way through crossing just stood at attention. Then, as the siren wound down, life continued on as normal with traffic flowing (or not), horns blowing, and shopping at the shuk.
Later in the day, we visited Har Herzl. Each grave was laden with flowers, candles, and flags. It was remarkable to see the site filled with visitors, including Israelis, foreigners, family members, and people with no connection to any of the buried. Har Herlz probably gets more visitors on Yom Ha’Zikaron than Arlington Cemetery all year.
One of the most noticeable changes in pace is on the radio. Yom Ha’Shoah and Yom Ha’Zikaron are the only two days when Galgalatz plays only Hebrew, and specifically sad music.
The most bizarre thing, however, is that within in seconds of sunset, the entire country transforms into one big celebration.