Yom Kippur in Jerusalem

4:34 pm Thursday, the day before Yom Kippur. I get a call from Ariel (Ratner) that he is on the train back from Jerusalem, do I want to join him for the trip to Ra’anana?

4:45 pm I give Iris (Bar), my Israeli mother, kisses and run out the door towards the central train station in Tel Aviv.

5:01 pm Ariel and I are on the train together to Herzaliya.

6:00 pm Ariel and I arrive back in Ra’anana arriving just in time for Pizza with his family.

6:45 pm Daniel (Belik) comes over and after about an hour of conversion we decide what we want to make this Yom Kippur different: were going to Jerusalem.

Next morning at 11 am Daniel and I set out for Jerusalem. (Ariel had already committed to be at home with his family) After some VERY quick planning, Daniel, with some help from friends had arranged for us: 1. A place to stay, 2. A place to have the pre-fast meal. Apart from that, we were running free. We were told to try and arrive by 1 pm, we arrived at 1:55 pm. Just outside the Jaffa Gate in Old City Jerusalem we met Ari, a recent Ole Chadash (person who has just made Aliyah) from Australia. After a quick walk, he shows us where we will be spending our Erev Yom Kippur, the Heritage House, 2 Ohr Hachaim Street, the Old City, Jerusalem.

After an incredible pre-fast meal complete with delicious chicken soup and apple pie for desert, we bade ado to our hosts and walked into Jerusalem’s cool and calming evening. The weather was crisp, like fall, and the sky crimson as the sun set: starting the Yom Kippur fast. We made our way out of the old city and up to the Prime Minister’s residence, which sits on a hill looking over the Old City of Jerusalem. There, for the last three months, the family of Gilad Shallit has been camped out, outraged at the government at their inability to negotiate the release of their son after FOUR YEARS of captivity and isolation in Gaza.

Outside the white canvas tent that had been set up there, in front of the hundreds of flags, posters and prayers that had been left for Gilad and his family, there was a Tefillah (Prayer session?). Contrary to popular belief, the majority of Israelis are very secular and do not attend synagogue regularly, as such during this Tefillah there were only a few people singing/praying but that was not the aspect worthy of note. You could see in the eyes of all the people there that they wanted to pour their hearts out for this family. Their tear soaked eyes and sorrowed gazes revealing what they were truly feeling: but all they could do was stand, unsure of what to do. After the 30-40 minute service the praying had come to an end, so a few of us just started singing, wanting to leave the family with something with more energy than half sung prayers and long faces. Immediately, 100 people were singing at the top of their lungs in the middle of an abandoned street on Yom Kippur: The Shallit family in the background; standing outside the Prime Minister’s office. After the singing, Daniel and I made our way into the tent hoping to wish them Shana Tova. It was such an empty moment. Not from our side of course, but you could just see in those trauma ridden eyes that they suffer every second of their lives with the fact that their son is not safe.

The next morning we were awakened by the director of the Heritage House with promises of amazing Tefillah if we could just get ourselves out of bed. 6:55 am we arrived at synagogue to start our full day of praying. 9:30 am after two and half hours of morning prayer, the first lesson of the day started, its topic: “ A Moral Approach for the Existence of God.”

3:30 pm after three more hours of prayer and one more lesson we found ourselves at the first and only one and half hour break in our day. (*this time was spent at the Aish Hatorah Yeshiva next to the Kotel in Jerusalem.) After a little walk and a little sun bathing on the roof tops of the Old City we made our way to a different Minyan (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minyan) which was much smaller and much more musically inclined than the last, but still quite traditional in its prayer. There have been few other times in my life when I have felt so much energy in one room, people singing at the tops of their lungs, feeling so happy and blessed to be where they are, doing what they love most.

6:18 pm. After 25 hours the fast had finally come to an end. The entire men’s congregation danced around the cozy synagogue celebrating our success and wishing each other a sweet new year. The proletarian that I am, I was celebrating that we were done and about to leave when the rabbi announced that we still needed to daven (pray) Ma’ariv (This is the evening service done by religious Jews). So it was closer to seven when we finished that, and finally did Havdallah (The ceremony that signals the ending of Shabbat) and Sof Sof (Finally!!!) ate and drank for the first time in a day.

Ari, the mensch that had arranged everything for us to make this incredible trip possible, also found us a place to break the fast. It was at the beautiful home of Aba and Pamela Clieman. They treated us with unimaginable kindness and hospitality. When Aba was 48 years old he made Aliyah from Los Angeles, CA wherein after moving to Jerusalem he decided he wanted to be a religious Jew. Now, Aba and Pamela Cleiman are in charge of some of the most wonderful programs to help soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces, the most recent of which is called Momentum a program to help soon-to-be-released soldiers acclimate more easyily into the civilian world.

The 10:15 bus from Jerusalem’s central bus station marked the end of my time in the Old City, but most certainly did not end my weekend’s experience. On the bus I met a wonderful religious young woman from Ra’anana and had my first “first encounter” all in Hebrew. We spoke about everything from how I got to Israel, to Israel’s problem with public image. All in all my Yom Kippur was absolutely incredible and exactly the break from normalcy that I was hoping for.

I hope that all of your Yom Kippur’s were the same, and for those who do not observe this holiday I wish that that love, health and happiness are finding you constantly.

Unimaginable love in this New Year,

אנדרו

Shana Tova

Shana Tova L’Kulam. I realize it’s a bit belated but I figured I would give it a shot nonetheless. My Chag (holiday) was spent, in part, eating my weight in fruit; going to Shul (synagogue); and reconnecting with old friends. I stayed with the ever kind and welcoming Belik family in Raanana, (the city I lived in when I made Aliyah with my parents) which is in the center of Israel about twenty minutes from Tel Aviv. The Belik’s and all my other friends in Raanana made my new year as sweet as it could possibly be, filled me with food, love, and spirit. They treated me as family and for that I want to say from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

There is an atmosphere of community in Israel. Here people say whatever is on their mind to whomever they want, because there is a connection that all Israelis have, as if we are all part of a big family: and just as in a family, there is criticism and there are congratulations. Luckily for me the weekend consisted mostly of congratulations and compliments, the criticism was spared for the coming meeting. Israel is a country of direct communication. You always know where you stand with Israeli’s, if you have done something they don’t like they will tell you, very frankly in fact, that they didn’t like it. One of the best examples of this phenomena is on the main train that runs throughout Israel North to South. People loudly talk on their cell phones about whatever topics interest them, irrespective of anyone else’s wishes not to hear their conversation and irrespective of their own embarrassment over personal details. I have heard Thursday night sex gone wrong, why you have to clean up the cat poop…literally there is really nothing that would be strange to hear. This is the chaos of normal life in Israel, but as the sane goes, “there is never a dull moment.”

September is an amazing month in Israel. The heat of the summer is finally starting to pewter out, holidays run throughout the month separating most of the month into long weekends and breaks from work. The community and people of Israel come together for these few weeks to celebrate together the holidays of their ancestors. For these few weeks there a slight let up in the chaos of normal life to enjoy the holidays. But even that is a bit of an exaggeration, Israeli’s even argue about the holidays.

The people that opened their homes and hearts to me this weekend in Raanana really displayed to me one of my favorite things about this country, and as a matter of fact one of the reasons that I want to serve this nation. They treated me with unbelievable kindness and gave me the warmest welcome back home I could ever have asked for. Every meal was cooked for me, I had a place to sleep, with more people offering their homes to me every day. I especially want to thank the Belik, Ratner, and Cizin families for the unimaginable effort they made to make my holiday and return home as comfortable and love filled as possible.

Also to all my friends from Tali, it meant more to me than you can ever imagine that you welcomed me back into your amazing circle of friends. It really made my new year special and made me ever so happy to be back in this country with you. To Ariel and Daniel: know that you guys are my boys. As American as this might sound I want you guys to know that I love you and that being back with you guys after all these years felt so incredible. I never dreamed I would be blessed with that opportunity; so for your everlasting friendship and love, thank you.

I could write for pages about the incredible things that happened to me this week, but as usual I want to leave some things to the imagination and as teasers to visit, but I will tell all those who are worrying about me and are thinking of me, I am happy. Not in the way that I expected I would be…better.

I wish you all health, happiness and love in this New Year.

אנדרו

The Ying and Yang

The weather is starting to change here in Israel. The unbearable heat of summer is finally giving way to the cool beginning of the fall. This past week was spent in Sde Boker, a kibbutz in the southern part of Israel whose claim to fame is the former resident Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion. We were there for Gadna: a weeklong “simulation” and exploration of army life. For the duration of his life, Ben-Gurion chose to live in Sde Boker, because he believed that Jews should also live in the desert, “suffer a little” I believe is how he put it. His memorial site is a five-minute walk from the base, surrounding it are vast canyons of sun bleached sand and rock. The climate is dry and relentless. Hot during the day, cold at night. However in that first hour, none of us really knew what to expect. However after the four and a half hour bus ride from the Kibbutz it seemed like a more than fitting spot to start my army experience.

We stepped off the bus, finding ourselves staring down at 19-20 year old soldiers that were about to become our commanders for the next four days. After being split up into groups, we were introduced to a few new things. First, how to stand properly—at attention. Second, to say yes, sir, (In Hebrew obviously) after everything that is ordered.

For most Israeli’s, Gadna is something that is done in the 11^th grade as a sort of introduction to the army, to try and get people prepared for what the army is going to be like. For us, about two months before we enlist, it was a bit different. However one thing that Gadna is famous for is the fact that after two days of lessons and training, the cadets are taken to a shooting range to shoot exactly 11 rounds of live M-16 ammunition out of the same guns some of us will carry during our army service. For a lot of people this is the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, for Gadna. That is why they suffer through all the dreadfully boring lessons and activities so that on the last full day at Gadna they can hold that M-16 in their hand and squeeze off the first rounds of their army career. For me it was quite the opposite. I had/have absolutely no interest in shooting the gun, and it was not something I was particularly looking forward to. This, however, just like everything in Gadna; is not a request but a requirement.

After going through the motions and getting into position on the weapon, resting it against my cheek, the butt of the gun in my shoulder, the magazine in, the gun cocked. I laid there, prone to the ground looking at targets that had been laid out 25 meters ahead. They were human shaped: Heads, bodies and legs. All with paper targets taped to them. As the commander of the shooting range commanded me to shoot off the first round, I hesitated. She repeatedly said to me, “Esh esh” (in Hebrew this means Fire! Fire!). Eventually I squeezed off the first round and felt the gun recoil as the gunpower exploded and bullet rushed out of the gun. Ten more times I did this, each time in my mind I thought, that is someone’s flesh I’m shooting through. Someone’s body I could, with each one of these bullets; be taking a hand, a foot a life. For that reason, I did not particularly enjoy the shooting. I have come to realize that it is naïve to think that we can get rid of all the weapons in the world and just live in peace. I guess I just never thought I would have to be the one doing the dirty work. After the shooting was over, I found myself thinking, why is it that people are so excited to shoot these guns. I know that no human being wishes to take another’s life, but for me this is the only thought I have when I am shooting off rounds.

As I sit today in the kibbutz, on this beautiful Shabbat afternoon I realize that the calm I feel around me has been made possible by the use of these weapons, and the sacrifice the people have Israel have made, to carry weapons and keep this country safe. I have not yet fully decided how I feel about having these weapons, but I do realize one thing now—without these weapons this life of calm and safety would not be possible.

The third night at Gadna my Mefakedet (Commander) told me in our closing formation that she would like to speak to me after lights out. We sat near the obstacle course, on two telephone poles that had been out in place as make-shift benches. She asked me to tell her why I was in Israel, why did I come here to join the army, and where did I want to go in the army. I told her everything. I am here for the little children in Haifa that smiled at me at the Bahaii Gardens—their adorable faces and eyes glimmering in the warm daylight. I am here for my parents and everyone else I know who loves this country and what it stands for. I am here for Gilad Shallit, his family and all the other soldiers and families that have sacrificed so much to keep this country, and this idea alive. I told her I was here to do the best I possibly can, to give all of what I am capable of to this cause. Commanders in Gadna are trained to be firm, never smile and act like army commanders at all times. For some reason however when I explained to her, in my slightly broken Hebrew about the beautiful children at the Bahii gardens and my dreams for my children to someday be like that. Her mouth squeezed into an incredibly beautiful smile. Her eyes were glinting in the moonlight. I’m not exactly sure what it was that she was thinking about at that moment but it was clear that I had touched something special in her life.

That was the best part of Gadna for me, to finally be able to share with an Israeli in the army why I am here. To be able to not only communicate it, but to finally know that why I am here has finally become clear in my own mind. For that I only have one thing to say, “Toda le’Elohim.” Thank you god.

The second night we were in Gadna, there was a Pigua (a terrorist attack). Militants presumably Hamas ambushed a car with Talia and Yitzhak Ames, along with Avishai Schindler and Kochaca Even-Haim. The car was shot off the road and after the terrorists exited their own car, all the victims were shot repeatedly at close range. Talia Ames was the mother of seven children, all of whom are now orphans.

I have two waves of feelings about this massacre. First of all I want to understand why. Why would someone do that to another human being, what could persuade someone so strongly to massacre four civilians, two mothers; one of whom was pregnant. The other is to find those murderers and make them suffer for what they did. However as I write those words, it does not feel right. Something inside me just says that making them suffer wont do anything.

This week was Ying and Yang for me. I had civilian life and army life. Safety and terror, hot and cold. For me this week was about choices. As my mom always told me, “there are no bad decisions, just different consequences.” What happens to the terrorists will depend on our choices. My decision of what to do in the army will depend on what end result I desire and what choices/sacrifices I am willing to make to get there. In my heart this week, are the wonderful children of Haifa and the children of the Amnes and Even-Haim families, may their minds and hearts be blessed with all the love and prayers from the people of Israel.

All the love in the world,

אנדרו