There Is More Than One Way to Skin a Cat

In all aspects of life there is diversity-- in plants and in animals, in people and in thought. Israel is an epicenter in many ways. A spiritual center for three of the world’s largest religions, the home of all the worlds Jews as well as a center of finance and technology for the entire world—Israel comprises of many cultures, languages and types of people but one thing that brings everyone together is the army. *For the more informed on the matter, I am choosing to refrain from including the non-serving population of Israel, in a small effort to withdraw politics from the discussion. The compulsory military service that each Israeli citizen faces is a unifying aspect of the state. Along with this unification comes a culture with its own ideas and expectations.

Among the thousands of meaningful jobs present in the army, the ones that command the most respect and honor are those on the front lines and in the most elite units. This surrounding ideology has caused much internal conflict and personal struggle for me, but has also allowed me to gain some very meaningful perspective about myself and Israel as a whole. On one hand I have the desire to be challenged and exceed expectations, and on the other I have my parents well being, ideology, and the knowledge of my sometimes “larger than life” outlook and ego. Depending on how well you might know me, you know that I have a serious problem turning down challenges and even more of a problem loosing. The conversation of whether to join a combat unit comes up in most conversation and due to that fact I have had it with a whole host of people: mothers, daughters, friends and military officers. Each with different advice and a different opinion. However most of what I have accumulated from these conversations is that this is a decision I will have to make for myself, and above all make it for the right reasons (which I can tell you is easier said than done).

A very close friend of mine once told me that there is “more than one way to skin a cat.” I think this quote is more than appropriate for this entry, not only because it relates to my personal dilemma about Kravi (combat), but also because it does such a great job of describing the culture here in Israel.

There is more than one way to pray, more than one way to greet someone, and more than one way to serve in the army.

As much as it might not seem like it, Israel is a land of compromise and peculiarities. You have eighteen year old orthodox Jews bearing M16’s on the public train on the way home from the army for Shabbat. You have Israeli Jews sitting around at a Shabbat dinner, and after saying Kiddush chow down on pork sausages. Life is different here. But as I said everything is a compromise. Everyone here wants peace but there has to be a perfectly-balanced compromise for it to become a reality. The same notinos apply to my situation, what will be my perfect balance? Which direction will it sway? The answers to these questions have yet come to light, but one thing is for sure—in the land of balance and compromise I am having my first milestone in a life of well weighted decisions.

Shavua Tov L’Kulam

Much love,
Andrew

“Who am I and why am I me?”

My brother Micah מיכה Bookman rhymed this week. He is not the typical artsy poet type, nonetheless what he said rang true with me.

Who am I and why am I me?

What am I now and what can I Be?

A brother, a son, a friend, and a Jew

A Garin Tzabar member and an Israeli so new

Names and labels, plenty I’ve had

But they are just words and fleeting as sand

I define myself by the people I love

And the way I relate to the Man up above

It’s the goals that I set that make me who I am

And answer the question of what makes me a man

Who am I? why am I me?

I’m not everything that I yet am to be

I think my brother had it right, we are who we love and what we love. As I spoke about last week, in Israel death is a part of life, just as it is in every country, but here it is a bit different because everyone knows someone who has died defending this country. In a lot of cases it is 18 year-old sons and daughters. But for some reason this element of life in Israel doesn’t make people abandon this dream the people live here, or for that matter even prevent people from coming to Israel. I believe this is a type of love. A love for this little piece of land that we can call home, as Jews and as people with love in our hearts for this land.

Today we rose to have Hummus (choomoos) lunch at 12 after a long night at the pub. We went around in a circle sharing what we liked/disliked and wished to comment on about the week. Micah, who earlier in the week sustained a hairline fracture in foot, said that when he was at the doctor getting a cast, that his dreams seemed to be disappearing before his eyes. All his dreams to be a soldier in the צבא vanishing before his eyes. Much to Micah’s delight Yarden (Jordan) showed up five minutes later Zionism and optimism intact as always to cheer his brother up. Micah shared that when Yarden got there things seemed to get better, the problems that he had been experiencing before seemed to just disappear. The following story, and I think that last one for this post is another about love.

Last night after the pub we inevitably got to talking politics. After some angry debate and even some inappropriate remarks, on my part as well, we were trying to take Micah back to his room. Because he is on crutches he needs a little assistance and after a full night at the bar more than a little spot is needed. Meanwhile Yarden, Micah and I were still yelling and arguing. Micah stops. Cold. Says to Yarden, quietly, over and over. I need you on my left side, I need you on my left side. After a slight bit of drunken confusion on which side is left, Yarden joined Micah on his left side. For me this is love. To be able to argue, quarrel, brawl, whatever it is that brothers do and be able to pick yourself off the floor and tell your brother you love him.

Despite our disagreement we are all here together, as brothers and we all love each other very much…. SO when its time to fight, we fight. When its time to hug, we hug.

Yarden was guarding Micah when he had his injury (They were fighting for a ball on the soccer field). But he was also there in the hospital to hug him and help him heal.

Even though Yarden, Micah and I tend to see things quite differently there is always love. A hand extended. And as Micah said last night. “Always extend a hand, no matter how many times its slapped away, you hold your hand out forever.” That is love for me. Always an extended hand, always an open heart.

Here in Israel there are a lot of open hearts, lots of hearts vulnerable to be broken. But in the end it’s love. Love is the worst and best. The good and the bad, the tough and the simple.

I pray that God blesses all of you on this Shabbat with all the good and none of the bad, but that if the bad comes, you will be in presence of family and that love will surround you.

From Israel, with all the love that you can possibly imagine or for that matter need.

אנדרו

Change, Joy, and Reality

Shalom m’yisrael. Shalom from Israel.

Today is Yom Shishi or Friday. Today marks my first Shabbat as an Oleh Chadash (New Immigrant) in the state of Israel. I arrived this Tuesday to Ben Gurion Airport at 7:50 am local time. After two days of travel my thinking was that that nothing but cries of exasperation and starvation would escape me. I could not have been more mistaken. On my second flight, the Aliyah flight from New York’s JFK, I was seated in row 23 of the Boeing 777 bringing us Israel. Now, row twenty-three, seemingly, is a fairly non descript and unimportant detail and row but it marks a very unique part of this particular flight. Beginning with row twenty, the first and business classes end, and this next section marks the beginning of “common folk” seating. Seated in the two rows ahead me was Garin Dati. (for all the Goyim J we still love you too, this means the religious group) I am not entirely sure why, perhaps it is because of all their prayers, Garin Dati are marvelous singers. As such about one and a half hours out of Tel Aviv they started to sing. The singing I speak of is not out of anything other than excitement and love. (Take a look at my Facebook profile for a short video). A truly incredible thing to see, 85 young people from all around North America, all choosing to join the army, same as me and here they are after hours of grueling travel, singing with the most unbelievable joy. Perhaps the most wonderful thing was that the flight was also filled with board members and staff of all the supporting agencies and programs and rather than discourage or even forbid this crazy behavior they joined in, singing and dancing with the 85 soldiers coming to serve Israel, helping us to make this experience a great one, helping to introduce the warm welcome we were about to receive.

When we landed an astonishing spectacle greeted us. The President of Israel Shimon Peres came to THE BOTTOM OF THE PLANE STEPS to shake and give a kiss to every single soldier getting off the plane. Perhaps some of the younger readers, or even the more wise of them have heard the term “show me the love.” Well let me tell you one thing, the love was shown and let me tell you from the bottom of my heart—it felt so wonderful. Even as I write this post seated in my home at Beit Ha’emek I cannot comprehend the words I just wrote. Tell me the last time the President of any country (including the United States) came to the bottom of an arriving plane of soldiers and immigrants to give love and thanks to each and every passenger.

After a much publicized press spectacle, we arrived at the terminal. TWO THOUSAND VOLUNTEERS and guests were there to greet us with cheering, singing, sings, food, drink-- One of my very good friends from when I previously lived in Israel came to greet me at the terminal and let me tell you when I saw Sherry & Dani Cizin fighting through that crowd to cheer, hug and help me with my ridiculous excuse for luggage. I knew I was home.

ברוכים הבאים Welcome Home.

This was the prolific message that I remember greeting us at every screen. Welcome home. Not happy you’re here, not “come in.” Welcome home. Israel is a country of family and by that I mean not strictly that family is very important, which it is, but that everyone here is part of one bigger family and that day more than any other, I felt unimaginably happy and proud to finally be apart of it. At one point one of the speakers we had during the welcoming ceremony said, “this is a gift for Israel.” This quote has stuck with me until today because for me when I give a gift it is a sign of love and caring, I give to that person because I was to demonstrate to them these sentiments. I am so happy that someone from the leadership has recognized that the service we are all doing is a gift. Despite being a bit crazy, all of us from the Garin love this country and for that reason we give this gift. On this past Tuesday and every other day in this beautiful country the love is “shown” and it is my honor and happiness to return the favor.

Kibbutz Beit Ha’emek is about a two hour drive North and East of Tel Aviv. You leave the metropolis on the water and find yourself in the serene quiet valley of the Caramel Mountains-- orchards of bananas and avocados surrounding you for kilometers. The Caramel Mountains and the towers of University of Haifa glowing in the distance. After some group activities and a few conversations on our first morning we were introduced to our Kibbutz Mother or Em’Beit. We are all Chayalim Bodedim (Lone soldiers) here in Israel so our sponsoring program (Garin Tzabar) attempts to provide every comfort a soldier in Israel would have including a family for each Garin member and a mother for everyone’s dilemmas, issues and needs. Elaine is from South Africa and as we did, made Aliyah some years ago. Elaine was once an Oleh Chadash as we are, although now she has taken up her residence here at Beit Ha’Emek raised her kids in Israel as well (three sons). As we are approaching our first Shabbat here in Israel she is the only thing on my mind. Elaine posses a very unique and sad story, one that I am choosing to share with you so that you may understand what it is to love something, an idea, a country. As I said she has three sons, the two eldest were both in the most elite units in the army (in Hebrew we call these Sayerot). There is much honor and pride that comes with this service, in the United States it would equivalent to something like the Navy S.E.A.L.S and Delta Force. Elaine’s youngest son however, Mayan, entered the army and during his basic training (typically your first 4-18 months depending on the unit) was killed during a training exercise. All twenty of the Garin members plus a few staff were sitting in a make-shift circle in an ordinary building in the North of Israel. Each one going around telling about themselves and where they were from. After Elaine’s story however I was transfixed. For minutes I sat and watched the emotion and pain on Elaine’s face. Elaine, much like me, left her home in South Africa to make Aliyah-- to believe in this idea, and live the dream of Zionism along with the rest of the country. She gave her life back home away, she went through eight years of constant worry and no sleep as her sons served this country with valiance and honor. Elaine lost her youngest son at the age of 18, he died of all things in an accident. With the relentless laughter and happiness that we have all been experiencing these last few days I wanted to share a bit of reality with you today as you enter Shabbat, so that you may ponder and think about what this means and why it is that Elaine is still here at Beit Ha’Emek helping soldiers from North American join the army and serve this country. Elaine and her son Mayan are in my thoughts this Shabbat, and when I light the Shabbat candles and welcome this 24 hours of relaxation and contemplation into my life this is what is on my mind.

Shabbat Shalom L’kulam and as always more love than you can possibly imagine,

אנדרו