A taste of Gaza

At this moment in time i find myself in an airforce base outside Beer Sheba. A four minute flight from the gaza strip. there is a serious conflict/operation in motion. constant rocket sirens and constant stress. its more than an underestimate saying that there is a lot of tension in the air. its almost unberable the waiting. Knowing that something will come but not knowing what it is or when it will come. For me personally it has been a new experience. so much stress that you dont know what to do with it. It controls you, overcomes your choices and desires. I feel...................exhausted, removed from society, scared and tense. 4 minutes. Thats what is separating me from the insanity of the gaza strip. im not exactly sure why i feel so stressed except for the obvious, but the work is not what worries me or makes me feel tense i think its just the pent up feelings of tension...the unknown no matter what im here together with my boys. itll be okay this is what we trained for. I knew this could happen when i came. when i signed up. now its time to follow it through if you want to protect what's going on here then you gotta live through this. The question is, is it worth it? When do we say enough is enough?

My surrounding world

I returned recently from a 30 day trip back to the United States. It was the longest period of time i have been home since before i started college 3 years ago. I was sure when i left that when i was there and during my trip i would have heaps to write about. To my surprise my mind was blank, perhaps just enjoying the fact that i wasn't obligated to do anything. When i was there i remembered and saw that life is SO different there, everything seemingly more easy. So much more affluence, so much more carefree behavior. But as i looked at the faces of people, whether it be in the streets of New York or on the Subway; there seemed to be something missing. when i was there i could not quite place it. Why is it that they are not happy? Even now that im back i dont really know. Who knows? maybe they are happy and just choose not to outwardly express it. Maybe i choose not to see it. My point in all this i think is just to say that it doesent really matter where you are sometimes, it is up to us as individuals to make the decision to be happy. I seems to me at some points that our lives are futile. Not in the sense thatour actual existence is futile but more in the way we lead our lives. The constant quest for whatever it is we are pursuing that period of time is meaningless. It is as though our lives are not even in our hands and sometimes even the smallest decisions lead to a paradigm shift. I do not intend to preach about living rambunctiously or being overly cautious but i would like to comment on the vast expanse between these two ways of life and how seemingly unimportant they at times. I recently saw a film, called Seven Pounds. It reiterated in a simple way how the smallest decision we make in our daily lives can alter ours and many others' lives for ever. However what struck me most about the movie was not so much what the consequences of the protagonists' actions were but the "good deeds" that he did to make up for what he did. The deeds that he did and how monumental they were are less important. What I saw in this film was that for the past few months, specifically for the past month I have been so wrapped up in myself that I have forgotten what is important in life and how fortunate I am compared to some other people on this earth. Not at all in an arrogant or elitist tone do I mean that. My only point is that my opportunities have not been numbered and I am blessed with incredible health and welfare. It is so clear to me now easy it is to be wrapped up in your own life, to forget about the community of people that are on this planet. How many challenges we face and how sometimes the only thing we can think about is where we want to have dinner? Where is our next traveling location or where is the best place to go to college? What I want to convey in this piece is the ability to be conscious. To be able to construct a balance in our lives where we can further ourselves but also keep others in mind. It is, make no mistake, a difficult task and requires constant diligence to keep ourselves in check and see where our compass is pointing. That is what I will try to keep in mind this week and as time moves forward. To keep a "zoomed out" perspective on my own life and more specifically my problems in relation to the issues challenges we are facing as a community. Perhaps for everyone else it is as least some food for thought for the new year? andrew

A little story

first time on call. Checked the gear and equiptment. arranged it all in the helicopter. got my radio and went on my way, back to normal life until, you know; "duty calls".  It was a thursday. Already in the evening as we had already driven to the south, had our swap with the other guys from last week and, finished dinner. I was tired. Not entirely sure why, because to be honest for the last few weeks my life has been pretty relaxed, relatively. But regardless i was tired. so i went to sleep. bam! 12:36 PM the siren wails twice. thats us. Hurl myself out of bed, look around at my two friends. They are waisting no time putting on their uniforms as fast as possible, i do the same. 2 min drive to the helicopter. 2 minutes to load the equiptment onto the aircraft. "gun bag!" "check!" "night vision!" "check!" "radio!" "check!" we all load up. the wine of the engine starts to get louder and the rotar starts spinning. thum, thum thum.  you smash earplugs into your ears and grab your flight helmet. The speed of the rotor  increasing by the second.  the radio flush with voices. the pilot" we are at full power, tower one. Cleared for takeoff." the in- flight mechanic. " clear" the control room; spewing details about the event: navigational point. who's there? how many wounded. someone on the ground we can talk to." pilot;" ok guys we got a 4 minute flight lets get ready. 4 minutes. to get all your gear on. the the belly of the helicopter ready for 2 critical condition patients, to arrange all the equipment. boot up the medical equipment. then a briefing from the commander: "ok guys we got 3 patients at least two critical, lets get in there get some details and get them on this aircraft asap."  (obviously thats not the actual briefing but its something of that nature. where were going who takes what. weapons? helemets?.  bam: pilot:" we are in final...on the ground" we run forward into the night. away from the noise of the chopper and into the chaos of the event. broken wreckage everywhere. a car in a heap on the side. 3 ambulances. rescue personnel everywhere. we end up taking two patients after being told the that third is not so bad and already on his way in an ambulance. I witnessed my first intubation on one of the patients and then it was off to the helicopter. 7 people in that little space. two unconscious patients. both not breathing on their own. internal bleeding. spinal and head trauma. long story short, they needed a lot of care. i attached a blood line and oxygen while i scrambled to put on my flight helmet. "7 minute fight to level one in Soroka, the pilot shouted( level one is the highest level of trauma care)" and then we were off. the fastest seven minutes of my life. clambering to do whatever we could, attach monitors see blood pressure, keep them breathing and get them ready to depart when we landed. bam! we were there. the door opens and the wind rushees in as i step off, helping to pull the stretcher off the chopper. we walk off the heli pad and into the hospital through a few wards and then into the ICU. it was like in the movies when they are running down the halls with a critical condition patient into the OR, except it wasn't a movie and i wasn't running. we walked down the hall, swiftly but not running, holding her IV bag in my hand and then ten seconds later it was over. the 40 nurses and doctors waiting took the so called "stick" and started working. Took her off the stretcher and onto a bed and then the head Attending starting asking questions and doing checks.  psheewww. thats it. my job was done. blood on my vest and pants and all over my hands. but we made it and it was the best care she could get. i had a last look and was sent back to the choper to start cleaning up. Because even though it was over, it wasnt really over. you see its a 24/7 thing we could have been on the flight back base and without warning another mission and you have to be ready for that so even though you want to stay and check up on the person that you just tried to save you have to go back and start getting ready for the next one. 

"So that Others may Live"

I thought a long time what i would write in this specific post. The post that concluded the two and half year milestone that i stand behind today. I describe those past two and a half years in many ways, but some of the words that come to my mind first are; yearning, struggle, failure, success and humbleness. 

My idea of what was in front of me when i made the decision to come over two years ago was so simple and naive. I could never have imagined the amount of work, effort, and sacrifice it was going to take. What suffering i would have to endure and at what physical and mental costs i was looking at. Today i can say that i do understand, in the most personal way because after it all here i am. I finished. 

But really this "finish' is the beginning. The beginning of something incredible and amazing. its the beginning of my opportunity to save lives and help people in a way that no one else can. This is an honor and a privilege, and i know as much as i try to understand i cannot until the day that it becomes real for the first time. 

Im sure everyone realizes at some level what it means to rescue someone. However i doubt and am quite sure that not many reading this blog know that it means to be somone's "only chance." That is the duty and privilege that I, and all the others with me, have taken upon ourselves. They (the commanders) have been telling us this from the very beginning. "there is no one else except us." When we go out there are no second chances and there is nobody else to call. We cannot fail, because there is no one to pick up after us. This is their motto, and when it becomes real i'm sure that responsibility will sit heavy on our shoulders. 

Andrew Edward Solomon. That's the name i started the army with. Now im EEnDRRU! or some form of that. No one can pronounce my name. As much as I insist on them trying, unfortunately,  i think thats one of the sacrifices i talked about before. :) But seriously, I have changed in the last 74 weeks. (thats the number of weeks i trained). Learned to take things in stride; and by things i mean; EVERYTHING. Whether you finish walking 40km in the pouring rain and sleet. No warm clothes. No food. Nothing is dry. You are in the first FEW stages of hypothermia and they say after 2.5 days of that. Okay your done. AND as soon as you take off your boots sopping wet and shirt. They come onto the bus and say."3 minutes and you guys are going back out." These are the moments that we are really tested. Can you find it within yourself to stand up put the sopping wet shirt back on, the pants and shoes slogged with mud, sweat and rain and go back down. To elevate yourself from one of the lowest points of your life and prevail. That is one lesson i have learned. (over and over again i might add). 

It is also about the people around you. To learn to love and learn them. To rely on them whenever you need them. They are your only family out there and over this period that is what they have become. My family. They were there every step of the way, in the bad the horrible and the gruesome. And all of us together smiled after it and said "we did it, together." That is family. 

Shavua Tov to everyone. hope everyone is enjoying the sumer weather.

Andrew

The Dotted Line

I signed on the dotted line. Not just to enlist but also giving up all my rights, ensuring that i am not mistreated. For example, 6 hours sleep each night and 3 meals a day among other things. This week it became clear to me what it means to be a lochem "warrior". What situations and conditions we are expected to deal with and why they make you sign upfront on the dotted line, giving up your basic rights.

I spent Tuesday through Thursday in a survival excersize that was supposed to simulate a situation in which you were left behind or crashed behind enemy lines and were forced to escape the enemy and survive on your own. Now let me preface this by saying that the weather was less than stellar this week. A temperature near 5 degrees Celsius at night and raining/sleeting 24/7. Now because it is a survival excersize it is not something that you are given adequate gear to use to cope with. You just have your regular uniform,vest and weapon. For the most part it included walking about 50km in two nights, through probably the most difficult field comditions you can possibly imaginable. Imagine a rocky mountainside inhabited by only 5-10 foot thorn bushes. The shrubery is so intense that it could take you 40 min to progress 200 m. Not only can you not see anything because it is in the middle of the night, but it is painful and humbling to crawl soaking wet through thorn bushes and over boulders in the middle of the night . Moreover imagine trying to progress with a human being on a stretcher thrusting them through thorn bushes and falling with them off boulders and hillsides. At day break you enter into hiding. spending the daylight hours in a bush hideout. now being in the rain all night you entire body is wet and you have no way to escape it. even with regular rain protection gear you get soaked after an hour or so. So you sit, your clothes, your hair, your boots soaking with water on the freezing ground, static for hours. You can feel your core body temperature drop as you begin to shake violently in the bush. No way to escape the wind, rain or anything else. Your extremities go numb as the blood travels to the center of your body; protecting your vital organs. So even when you get up to pee you fall over becasue you have no feeling in your legs.

This went on for 2 days. Only to be interrupted by a four hour break and then a 15 km march down the beach with stretchers along a storming sea. At some points trudging though water that was above waist level. Safe to say it was not a simple week.

At the end of the week we had the commander of our unit come and talk to us. He said that all the training excercises were concelled (except for ours of course) because the weather conditions were deemed too cold/dangerous to train in. He explained that in order to be good warriors we need to survive in any situation and that was why it was decided that we would stay out.

In the begining i was confused. I thought, how could that be?? how could he just decie that? if the conditions were too extreme than how were we allowed to be out?? and then i remembered "i signed on the dotted line." No matter how cold, how wet, how dirty they own me and can choose whatever fate they deem necessary for me.

Thats the message i take from this week, that and the fact that at this point i think i have a forever permamanent scar from the rain. One things for sure however, i definitely got tougher this week. for better or for worse i guess.

hope everyone is doing well this weekend.

Andrew

Three Hundred and Sixty Five

The outlier. Thats what I am. From my friends in the army, to my friends back home- I am somehow singled out. Whether its the way i look, the way i talk, the way i dress. who I am. where i come from? where I live. I cant be sure if i was an outlier my whole life, but as far back as i can remember i always felt a little different than most of my friends and other people in general.

My close friends flatter me with words of admiration and my acquaintances pelter me with questions about what i will do AFTER the army. On some level i can understand this question, how can i possibly expect them to understand what my life consists of, or what it is based on at this point. I find myself wondering that almost every day.

I feel lonely. Not because i am lonely, but because i allow my situation dictate my feelings. There is some truth in my loneliness, i am across the word from my mom, dad and the rest of my family. In a different country, with a different life and path, but as so many people love to remind me, that is what i chose. I respond by saying, "your right." "but i didn't choose to be alone ." Now, before i continue i must say i can already here my mom mumbling that I make these decisions for myself everyday. Let me explain.

When i wake up in the morning whether its out of a 30 year old sleeping bag on the floor of the Judean Desert or at home in my bed at the kibbutz, i make a decision. How will i start this day, what feeling will i let overcome me with this sunrise? will it be a simple feeling of cold, or a more comprehensive feeling like sadness or loneliness. As i described i can envision my mom saying, " its your decision how you wake up in the morning, how you want to start and proceed with each day." Do you want to take that day by the horns and make it your day, or do you want to let other influences make that decision for you.

If its cold, im cold. If its early, im tired. These are the natural responses to these stimulations. but there is still that decision. Or so she(my mom) says? I have struggled lately to make these more simple decisions. I dream about waking up with a smile on my face. Excited to start each day. I realize that achieving that in the system i am serving in is challenging, but i am determined to make a go at it.

People's questions of what i will do after the army test me. Not because i have no idea what i will do, ( I really have no idea) but because i am already struggling so much that confronting my life in the future is more than i want to deal with. I want people to delve into my life as it stands now, to be interested, to strive for knowledge and understanding of what i'm doing, but just as with many of my expectations in life, im shooting high. I suppose this makes me my own outlier in some way, i make myself standout. For this exclusiveness i also pay a price.

In every one of the last 365 days i have made my life different in some way, i feel like im making headway in life as difficult as it is to progress at some points. I don't think i'm an outlier all 365 days, but on most of the days that i am i realize it. SO i guess that is the price that I pay in the end, to achieve these goals and dreams of mine i must, at some points be alone.

when that thought sits on my mind, i am okay with it. If this is the price for this dream of mine, then thats what ill pay.

Andrew

PS i know this post is a bit stranger than the norm, but take it for what it is. I just thought i would share what is going through my head on the Saturday night before i head back into the movie that is my life.

Winter in Israel

Its winter in Israel. November the 12^th. There has been a few rainy days and the temperatures at night and in the early mornings have dropped to sweatshirt and beanie weather. It’s that sort of climate that you find in San Francisco in the fall-- breezy and crisp.

My teammates and I are just about one year in training. Six months to go. As far as the end seems, I know it will in some way creep up on me; and then instead of complaining about not being done yet I will be worried about not being ready to hold others people’s lives in my hands everyday. Our team is starting to come together; we are at Jump School for two weeks learning how to hurl ourselves out of perfectly good airplanes. It’s the type of thing that causes a lot of laughing because we spend the whole day learning how to fall on the ground. (Imagine singing strange commands and then launching yourself off a 15 foot platform all day for all your friends to watch as you hit the ground, face first and get yelled at by the instructor saying that your landing was poor.) A perfect bonding experience if I don’t say so myself.

It feels to me now that we are on the point on a climb where your hands hurt, the last two pitches look and ARE the most difficult and you know that there is cold beer waiting in the car. We have made it almost a year through training, probably the most trying period of any of our lives and yet the lack of satisfaction is astounding. It strikes me on a daily basis that on the day-to-day I am not very satisfied. Now, being the thinker that I am, that has bothered me greatly. But after thinking it through and talking to my “O so wise” roommate I have come to understand that what I do here every day isn’t about satisfaction or at least immediate satisfaction that is. No one ever say it would be fun, satisfying or enjoyable. On the contrary, people warned me that it would be like this.

One of the things that most frustrates me is that fact that we are, by product of the training and other elements, essentially treated like kids. They insist on complete secrecy on whatever we are doing so we never know what is to come or when it will end. Our lives are mysteries to us and our families. Our families and friends knowing far less than we do even. We have no contact with the outside world during the week, no phone; no news, we live in a hole Saturday night through Friday morning. Cut off from family, friends, girlfriends and apart from the people in the unit, humanity. Now that is not to say that I don’t understand why it is that way it is. Its perfectly logical if you are trying to form the greatest and most highly trained soldiers, that taking all their connections to anything but what we do everyday makes the list of distractions very short. There are sacrifices to this approach however, friends on the outside drift away, girlfriends seem distant at times and even when we do have contact it is limited to 24 hours. This is attacking the base of our support systems. Our families and our friends, the things we know about in our lives are taken from. I think this is a conscious decision on the part of our officers to test us at the highest level, when only ourselves and our teammates are there to live through it together. They need to know that even if you don’t have the support of anyone else except your teammates that you will not give up that that they can count on you 100%.

Now your either saying, “gees that sucks” or some of my more assertive friends might be saying, “suck it up, you know why your there.” Now usually that comforts me to know that I did choose this life for myself and this is part of the price that needs to be paid to accomplish my goal. But I have plateaued recently, not particularly sure on what, but I am sure that I need a sharp kick in the butt so I can stick it out through the end. I know the fire in me is still burning bright, I have just let it get away from me-- the flame disappearing behind the curtains. However as I write this post I start to remember why I wanted to have this challenge—to get to a point where I wanted to say, “okay that’s enough for me” and show myself that I could stick it out. Now not to get confused I don’t seriously think about quitting but I do think sometimes, “boy what have I gotten myself into.”

I know the next six months will hold some of the hardest challenges of my life but I know that it will also hold some of the most important pinnacles of achievement not only in training but for myself. I am positive that there will be a few moments that I can feel as though I am on top of the world and say to myself, “you did it.” This is the finish line and your standing on it.

I know this post was relatively brief but I just wanted to check in with everyone, tell them what I was up to and let them know that no matter what, I am gonna give this thing everything I got until I have nothing else to give, and then keep giving.

On a less serious note I hope this note finds everyone happy, healthy, and smiling—because no matter what at the end of the day a smile and a laugh cures it all.

May god bless you with love, life and happiness.

Andrew

One Year In Israel

Yesterday was one year in Israel. Not one year ever. One year since I made Aliyah, and came to live and serve in this country as a soldier of the IDF. I know everyone (my Mom particularly) will be shocked that I have actually posted a blog, but I figured an anniversary is quite a milestone and a perfect opportunity to look back and see where I started this year and where I find myself now.

Lets start with the location: Israel, Beit Haemek. Now lets get to what I have accomplished since then. ONE: I am in the army. (I started October 10, 2010), TWO. I am in the IAF’s Elite Unit 669, THREE. I have short hair(okay that one was just for kicks).

In the past 365 years of my life, I have learned what it is to be a soldier in this country. A country of war and (as my commander puts it) preparation for war. I have suffered unimaginably, been to unbelievable downs, that in my prior life I thought not possible. I have been at the point in which I thought all was lost; That I had reached my point of quitting, and wanted to give up more than anything in the world. But I didn’t, not because I didn’t want to, because I couldn’t. I still haven’t been able to place what it is exactly that keeps me from giving up, but I have something in me that no matter the suffering I seem to find myself at the end of the road.

I learned to be a Field and In-Flight Combat Medic, How to fight with a team of 4,6, and 12 people and take over mountains in the field. I learned what it means to sprint with a stretcher on your shoulder and what it is to carry someone on your back for a full kilometer in the middle of the night after the hardest week your body has ever suffered through. I learned to cable wounded soldiers/people up and down hovering helicopters and soon I will be learning how to scuba dive to further expertise my abilities to rescue people in the ocean.

One year ago I was civilian just like everyone else fresh out of my first year of college and already planning to intern in Manhattan over the summer. Now I find myself doing 18 hour days…everyday, exercising 4+ hours a day and spending the rest of the day learning how to be an elite soldier in one of the world most expert evacuation and rescue units. I used to talk about calculus and which party I was going to after Hillel on Friday nights and now I talk about how to cable rescue pilots behind enemy lines after a crash. How much has my life changed? Drastically. How much have I changed? I don’t know. I still feel like me, but I think I stand taller. Not out of arrogance, but out of pride for myself and my teammates. I think I have matured and become a bit tougher, for better or for worse.

I have an unbelievable amount of satisfaction at the end of most of my weeks, something that I never before experienced in my life apart from days I spent climbing the mountains and cliffs of the Sierra Nevada’s. (There is no better satisfaction than that, but this is getting pretty close.)

The past year has flown by, which I am sure everyone’s has but I think for me it is a little different because since the first day in the army my team mates and I have been looking forward to “sof maslool” (being done with training, ergo: to be operational), to being a Lochem(warrior) and being able to be on call for active operations. I’m not saying I’m anywhere near that, but it feels so much closer than it did in December and just by the training we are doing I can tell in my mind that I have come a long way. I still remember my first visit to an army base that lasted about 3 hours. I sat in an unbearably hot auditorium still in use from the British control of the Mandate ,almost assuredly, and read brochures about the army’s elite units, of course day dreaming about being in 669, day dreaming about doing the things that I am now training to do. Because of the nature of the unit I cant talk too much about what were doing especially the details of it, but its safe to say that its not walking in two straight lines to the lunch room anymore.

I think that I cannot fully understand where I am and what I am doing because I am in it. I live it and breathe it 24 hours a day and there is not ever time to really zoom back and see my life from above and over time, like one would have to understand who I am, where I came from and where I am now. It was always my dream to save people out of the ocean and the thought that I am getting somewhat close to that(closer than 99.99 percent of the people in the world) I am on the whole very satisfied with where I am. However that is not to say that I cruise at all or that it is easy at all for me, I struggle most days with one thing or another but I believe that this is how we got stronger, if your not struggling your not getting stronger. So I guess, just so everyone is clear I am having a very difficult time, but in a good way I think. I feel that I am stressing things that could use some stretching and learning things that can only help me to learn and become a more enriched and enlightened individual, two things that interest me greatly.

One of my greatest friends left me a voicemail yesterday that motivated me at the deepest and greatest level to pick myself off the ground and propel myself to the end of this thing. She told me not forget that even if I am not proud of myself, that she is and there are so many people that are, and are praying for me everyday and only wishing for my success. I think one thing that HAS happened in the last 12 months is that I have lost touch with where I came from and why exactly I came here in the first place and why I find myself in the unit that I am in. I believe it has to do with idealism but I think it also has to do with humanity, wanting to contribute, to help. “So that others may live” (U.S. Coast Guard Rescue Swimmers) this is my favorite quote and describes what I want to do. I came here to serve and this is the kind of service that I want to do. I want to reach down and get that victim that no one else can get, that no one is fast enough or strong enough to get, I want to reach down and get them.(The Guardian) To rescue someone from near or sure death and bring them back to their families, to me, in my mind, that is the ultimate mitzvah.

I’m sure if you are reading this, you have read either some or all of my previous posts so you might or might not remember the story about the kids in Haifa from the nursery, but I just wanted to let everyone know that I still think about those kids; and I think if one of them was in trouble or hurt I would want to be the one that came to help, and that is why I choose to make the choices I make. To take the consequences of being in this unit, being disconnected from my friends and family, not using my full rights as lone soldier (going home for a month every year), not going to the opening ceremony of the next Garin Tzabar year because I am busy doing training that will help me get to that end game.

I have a thousand stories I could probably share about the time between when I last wrote, but the most important thing that needs to be heard and expressed is what I have just addressed, so for now I will leave it at that. But know that I will keep on trucking and that all your thoughts, prayers and love are helping me enormously and giving me a lot of strength—so keep sending them.

May god bless you and keep you safe,

Shabbat shalom from Israel.

Always,

אנדרו

Some Forward Progress

Its march third today, this means two things to me. First and for most this is the month of my birthday (22nd) and much to my disbelief I will be turning twenty-one years old. Secondly, and also to my disbelief I have been in the Israeli army three months now, and finished basic training. This past week I have been on a week-long break from the army, which has been incredible. I have had time to reflect on the last few months and come to a few conclusions on how I want to continue. Although before I get to that I will share a little of what I have been up to on my time off. I surfed in the rain with my buddy Daniel at Hasharon Beach in Herzaliyya, had a trip with all the guys from my unit in the Golan—filled with a river walk, hummus, BBQ and beer drinking; it was a great time. I also had some great nights in Tel Aviv with some friends and a couple days at the kibbutz just having some personal time and really relaxing. Now to the “blog worthy” stuff.

The past three months have been by far the toughest of my life, not so much physically (also) but mentally. It’s a different world being in basic training, someone controlling every aspect of your life. Asking permission to use the bathroom, being told when to sleep, eat and every other action in your life. It is not really something that you get used to, but you make your peace with it after a while. Now that I have finished basic I feel that I have turned a corner, however small as it may be, I feel I have accomplished something. I now call my commanders by their first names and don’t have to salute them every time I see them. Nonetheless at the end of the day they are still my commanders and they still order me around and what not, but there is something really good about being treated as somewhat of an equal. Being able to call them by their first name puts you on a similar level with them, maybe not an equal one but at least it’s a big step up.

I start Sunday at combat medic’s course. It is a two and a half to three month course that teaches you to basically to be a doctor in the field. It will be refreshing to finally learn something that is specific to my unit and more than that do something that is without a doubt progress in the right direction.

Its funny when I started this post I thought I would have gobs to say and write about but funnily enough I think I have covered most of it. To conclude ill say this, the weather here is starting to warm up, and everything is green throughout the entire country which makes it breathtaking. I hope that everyone back home is surviving the real winter, especially those that find themselves in Michigan and Nevada.

Much love to everyone and be in touch,

אנדרו

One a Half Months in the Army

Firstly, I apologize to all the readers for the lack of posts, I vastly overestimated how much free time I would have to write a blog during my army service. But I guess that’s not the only thing I underestimated.

During this first month and a half in basic training I have experienced the shock of being in the army, but also started to understand what it is to be a soldier in this country. It has been a hard month and half, but also a rewarding one. I have crawled though the thorns and rocks in the middle of the night with a full pack on, learned what happens if I don’t shave well enough in the morning, but best of all I have learned the feeling of finishing a full week in the army and having the incredible satisfaction of getting on the bus home on Friday morning SO ready for a restful Shabbat.

I have learned a lot of life lessons and things about myself, just in these first six weeks. I think one of the most important things I have learned has been that the army has a lot of ups and downs. When you are sprinting and crawling and being woken up four times a night from sleeping in your hole with no sleeping bag or anything to keep you warm, you feel like you have hit rock bottom. But when you finish that week and wake up Friday morning and put on your dress uniform on to go home, there is no better feeling in the world.

I don’t have a whole lot of time to really go into detail about how these few weeks have been and like I think I have posted before, I cant talk in any detail about anything that is going on so I will just give a bit of an insight of how it is going for me personally.

It has been hard both mentally and physically, but when each day is over you have some sort of satisfaction. One of the hardest things is never knowing what is to come. When you are in college or really most other places in everyday life there is some sort of schedule; classes that you know you have to go to, meetings that you have to keep. For us it pretty much up in the air, you wake up every morning having no idea what to expect. Apart from that there are amazing things as well. When you pray for the first time in the field, still in your sweaty smelly uniform, gun hanging down next to your hip, it is an amazing feeling. You really feel like you are where you dreamt you would be, doing what you dreamt was right for you.

In a week and half I have my Tekes Hashbaah, (swearing in ceremony) in which we take our guns home for the first time and are presented with a copy of the Tanakh along with our unit tags. Is is a big ceremony at the Kotel in Jerusalem and should prove to be quite a scene. It is looked upon here as one of the milestones in the army so I cannot honestly believe I have already made it to this point. I can still clearly remember the say I started the army and how nervous/excited I was getting on the first bus to the base.

One thing I realized this week, which has helped me dramatically is that I have so much support in this journey. Not just my friends, family and my garin, but all the people that you meet and learn of your story and your life. This last Thursday I was on a “Yom Kef” (fun day) for Lone Soldiers, (this was instead of parent day for the rest of the soldiers) and at the end of the tour the tour guide, who we had spent probably one and half hours with, invited every single soldier on the bus to Shabbat at her home in Jerusalem and read out her mobile phone to everyone and said if they ever needed anything not to hesitate to call. That was my lesson for the week, when it is hard for me and when I want to quit or not be there, remember all the amazing people that are behind me, who care, support and are so proud of me. That thought, and those people will be what I use to get through my future challenges—now to all of you reading this post: you are a part of that strength and support so for that I want to say thank and remind you that you are doing a Mitzvah helping me though this time of learning and hardship.

I pray that everyone has a restful, safe and relaxing Shabbat.

Shabbat shalom and much love, strength and prayers from Israel.

אנדרו

The Army this Week

On Thursday of this week i will officially begin my service in the Israel Defense Forces. Despite the fact that I am long way from being an active soldier, meaning finished with training, it is a huge step forward in this long journey that I have undertaken.

For me there are two waves of feeling. One of immesurable excitement, and other of fear. Not fear of what is to come, but fear in the fact that we have no idea what is in store for us.

One thing I am truly excited for is getting my uniform. I have been waiting a long time to put this uniform on, and now that it is so close I can't hardly wait. To the best of my knowledge we will get beige airforce uniforms as our dress set or as it is here (Madeh Aleph) and the regular green for our day-to-day (Madeh Bet) set. Because the unit is a part of the Airforce I would also assume that we will get black boots, not the red ones that accompany the Tzanchanim and Nachal Brigades.

For the next couple of days I will be focusing on getting all the gear I need, trying to mentally prepare, and above all else relax, becuase once I start idle time will be a luxury . Tomorrow I am going to the draft of a very close friend, so hopefully that will give me a little bit of a first look at how its going to be. Other than that im passing the time by reading, writing and catching up with friends from back home.

I realize this is a turning point in my life but well have to see which way im turing and where it takes me before I can make any opinion or comments.

Regards from Israel,

אנדרו

PS i'll be sure to post some pictures of me in uniform in the coming weeks.

Determination + Tuna + Sand = Israeli Air Force

Day 1-5 Lunch: Tuna and Sand. Evening consisted of Running, Crawling, well a bit more running. Carrying sand bags, and yes, you guessed it more running. In short Gibush Matkal was perhaps the hardest week of my life, both physically and mentally but i can definitely feel that i got stronger both physically and mentally from it.

Day 6: Home. Dinner: Coconut Curry Soup, lentils and chicken, Israeli Salad, Ice Cream, Coffee and Rest.


Today is Sunday, last Thursday afternoon I finished Gibush Matkal in an army base on the sea not to far from the southern city of Ashdod. The day started later than usual, at about 6 am. After having 2 minutes to get up, go to the bathroom and eat our moring "meal" (two pieces of bread with a dab of jelly in the middle) we started a day chock full of many meaningless tasks, and of course as is present in all army activities-- waiting around. In the end we cleaned and packed up the entire base, and for the four and a half hours remaing hours just sat around and waited for the caravan of commanders to come and deliver the results of who was accepted into these top three army units.

4:00 pm the commanders from Sayeret Matkal, Shaldag and 669 showed up. Results in hand. In the most Israeli of fashion, all of the 160 or so men who finished the Gibush (it started with 400) sat in the dirt in the middle of a shooting range and looked longingly up at the Major from "the unit"(Matkal) to deliver the results. It was announced in order from Matkal, to Shaldag and then 669. My name was interestly called for Shaldag, and pending a psychological interview I was in. Honestly i was shocked. Even in my interview with the commanders I had said I wanted 669, not Matkal or Shaldag so the fact that my name was called for Shaldag was very suprising. I only found out later the I was also accepted in 669 and pending my performance at a "pool day" for 669 there was a possibility I could be accepted to both units and have to make a decision of which to go to.

This moring I had my interview for Shaldag and ill know by the end of the week how it went. Tomorrow is my "pool day" for 669: a one day Gibush to test how you handle yourself in the water. \

If I neglected to mention it before, the feeling of being accepted after such an inimaginable week was suffering was like some gift from god. I feel so blessed that I was able to perform at such a high level and perservere adversity to arrive at my goal.

Our garin hosted a huge part on Friday night, in which we organized a bus to pick up people from a few other Kibbutzim in the area and bus them to our party. It was a fantastic party and we were up until 6 am celebarting everyones succeses. (A bunch of the other guys in the Garin went to Gibush Tzanchanim on Monday and the ones that were able to participate, finished the Gibush in good position.)

At this point im praying that my Yom Brecha (Pool Day) tomorrow goes really well, and I will be accepted into the unit with that final stamp of approval. If i am so fortunate I will start my army service on December 2nd of this month with basic training in either the Nachal or Givati Brigade. Although, I will be with my team of guys that will move forward with me for training in 669/Shaldag.

The majority of this week will be taken up by a Garin trip to Eilat, so next week nstead of reading about sand and tuna in my mouth you will read about it squeezed between my toes while I sip on some beers.

I know this is a short post but I very much wanted to give everyone a wuick update on where im at, so they can know and not worry.

שבוע טוב לכולם

אנדרו

Blessing.

Firstly, I apologize that I have been lacking in writing these last two weeks. It has been very hectic and I have not found the time to write. Now though, I have a little time and I want to give everyone a little update.

If you have been following the blog or been talking to me you know that my goal in the army is 669 (an elite rescue and evacuation unit). One of the first steps is getting to this unit is going to a day called Yom Sayerot. It is a 24 hour try-out for all of the IDF’s elite units. So getting to Yom Sayerot usually comes with an invitation from the army, but in my case because I had decided so late to do combat, getting this invitation was proving extremely difficult.


Thursday afternoon, the week before Yom Sayerot, playing on the rocks at the beach I got my foot caught in a rock hole and twisted my knee. Friday morning woke up and I could barely walk. Sat, Sun, Mon, Tue, spent nursing my hurt knee. Complete rest. Tuesday night I was sitting with all my boys around the table talking about my other options because even if I would have the chance to go to Yom Sayerot on Thursday there was no way that I was going to sprinting up and down sand dunes 30 times and carrying a stretcher full of 80kg of weight, or for that matter trotting up and down the dunes with a 30kg sand bag on my back. At this point I was looking at plan B. Depressed was not even the word to describe my feelings. I was heartbroken. It was like my dream had been snatched from my utter grasp. Now another thing to add is that at this point I still had no idea whether I would even get the opportunity to go because the army still had not decided whether or not I was going to get an invitation. My rakaz (director) was working tirelessly with the army, on the phone literally the entire day with them trying to set things straight. For his immense effort I will be forever thankful.

I went to bed that night thinking I would just go to Gibush Tzanchanim like a lot of the other guys in our group and try to make it to Sayeret Duvdevan or Maglan (One is a counter terror unit that operates in the territories while the other is a deep reconnaissance and ambush unit that operates deep in enemy territory).

Wednesday Morning (the morning before Yom Sayerot is planned to start). The entire Garin except for me heads to the Golan Heights for a trip including: a wine tasting and pick nick, meeting with a famous war hero who with his division of 40 tanks overcame a Lebanese division of 500 or so tanks in a the valley of tears עמק הבכא, and following that a live tank demonstration with two Israeli Tank divisions. They also had the opportunity to go an army job fair where people from all different units in the army had set up booths to hand out information and talk to people about their units. All this time I was home, going to a doctor's appointment to get an idea at what I was looking at with my knee.

8:30 am my phone has been ringing off the hook for about an hour, but not having heard it, Avner (my rakaz) has to send in additional support. Elaine came to the door, yelling my name, suddenly waking me up and telling me that I need to answer the last three calls I got and that Avner, Ziv, and the army was trying to call me. Five minutes later after returning all my other calls I get a call from someone in the army. She says, Do you have asthma? No. Do you have glasses? No. "Weird" she says, we were sure you told us that. "Nope", I said 'I’m healthy as a horse", "Okay" she said now I need to check your Hebrew level, we need to make sure you will understand if we offer you an invitation. Two minutes later she said to me, "Congratulations, you will have Yom Sayerot TOMORROW."

I went into my doctor’s appointment thinking two things: one, he was going to tell me I needed another week or two rest, and second, holy sh&% I can't believe what just happened. I got into the doctor’s office, 45 minutes late of course, because even in Israel doctors are not on time. I sat down across from this doctor who could not have been over 35, but who had come very highly recommended. He told me to lie down on the bed, I did. After two or three minutes of twisting my knee around and pushing it in and out and asking questions about pain and tenderness in certain places he sat me down again. (I was there with our Garin mother, Elaine, thank god. So I was not devoid of moral support) He said to me: “look, there is no serious injury in your knee.” “You did some sort of strain, and it has not healed completely yet.” I said to him, “Okay, well this is my dilemma-- I got an invitation this morning to Yom Sayerot tomorrow and it’s my dream to be in 669 which I can only reach from there. Will I be looking at permanent damage if I go, and how do you think with will hold up.” He answered: “In an ideal situation I would tell you to wait until it is completely healed, but since this is your only opportunity and it’s your dream I am going to clear you because there is no serious injury or tear.” “You will know very quickly if your knee is going to hold up, but you need to have the maturity to stop if it does not feel good.” I came out of the doctor’s office, armed with Ibuprofen and a knee brace, charging with excitement and happiness. As soon as I said a deep thank you to Elaine and was making my way back home, I let out the loudest scream of joy anyone has ever heard.

The next day I travelled with one of my boys Yarden to do the Yom Sayerot. It started at 3 pm in the afternoon with a 2k run. I finished 16th of 90. The next morning after sleeping next to nothing, alongside some of the loudest Israeli's I have ever met, the real work started. We were split into groups 15 and for the next few hours did some of the most intense exercise I have ever done. The first thing they do is sprints. It is all on the beach, on very steep sand dunes. They line you up, show you the top of the dune and then you sprint, over and over and over and over. The first sprint I was very worried how my leg was going to hold up so I took it a little easy. I came in fifth. This did not make me happy at all, so after that I just went for it. After about 20 sprints and up and down the dunes we started with the sand bags. 30 laps later it was time to dig. We dug with the tiniest shovel on earth but the holes were meant to be about a meter in depth and width and as long as you could make it. The last thing we did was more sprints, although this time instead of getting down and waiting the 3 seconds before they sent us off again we would race down and the first four would have to carry the stretcher on another lap before starting the process again. It is very demeaning exercise, over and over and over again. No idea of when it’s going to end. They also play with your head a lot, asking if your going to be okay, ask you if you want to quit. They sometimes even ask you strange Israeli trivia or whatever else they can to get you doubting yourself, they want you to struggle and see how you react to different situations. That is the point of the entire exercise, to see your level of mental strength. In the end I was fortunate enough to get the stretcher all but two times and also performed very well on the other activities. At the end of the 3-4 hour activity, after cleaning up the camp of course, everyone sits in one bug group (about 250-300) people and they read the 35-40 numbers (we were all assigned one) that were accepted into the Sayeret Matkal, Shaldag and 669 Group.

I sat there very depressed as all the names of all the groups were read and I did not here my number once. Thinking, well at least I gave it my best and preparing to go home. A female soldier came over to the group and asked, "Is 175 here?" I said, "Ken Ken!!" She said, “hurry over to the Matkal group, you were supposed to be there 3 minutes ago!” With the biggest smile of my life I went to join Yarden in the Matkal group. I gave him the loudest and best high five ever when I got there, even causing the senior officer already giving the presentation to crack a smile. I sat there dumbfounded, I could not believe it. Here I was in the group accepted to do Gibush Matkal, when a week ago I could not even walk. How was I so blessed? The first part of my dream was complete. I was on my way to the weeklong try out for Sayeret Matkal, which is also for Shaldag and 669. I have included a link to a blog post about what I will be facing there, it is fascinating and I would highly recommend you to read it. (http://sonicinbeijing.blogspot.com/2009/11/gibush-matkal-sweat-sand-tears.html)

On November the 7th my Gibush starts. Until then I am training hard, physically and mentally. Working out at least twice a day and mentally preparing myself for perhaps one of the most difficult challenges of my life.

On another note, we had another Garin trip to the Golan Heights; we went to Tel Chai (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tel_Hai ) and also went rafting on the Jordan River, followed by pizza and ice cream to celebrate our first Garin member joining the army. Mazal Tov Ilana!!! (She will be doing International Relations in the Territories).

I hope this update was interesting and put some of your minds at rest. I wish everyone a peaceful and reviving Shabbat.

Much love,

אנדרו

PS pray for me November 7-13 I’m going to need all the strength I can get.

Why we Fight

For those of you who know me well, you know that I always say that you should fight for what you believe in. This was among the many reasons that I decided to come to Israel in the first place, to see if I had the courage to truly fight for what I believe in. In amongst this decision I had another choice to make, which in the end ended up being the harder one to make by far. I had to choose whether or not, I wanted to be in a Kravi (Combat) unit in the army.

This past Shabbat the garin went together to a Holocaust museum in the Golan called lochme Ha’ghetteot (The Ghetto Fighters). Unlike Yad V’Shem and other holocaust museums Lochme ha’ghetteot has a very special story. Founded by survives of Poland Ghettos, these heroes took it upon themselves to tell their story, and the stories of others like them, so as to not only preserve the memory of the ones they had lost, but to tell the stories of those who had been saved. Most of you I’m sure, have seen the movie Defiance, but as an aside I will explain a bit about it. It is the story of The Bielski Brothers who, after their family is killed start a camp/resistance in the forests of Belarus. They create a camp, fight the Nazis, rescue more people from the Ghetto and in the end save over 1800 people from the death camps. These brothers made a choice in this movie, a choice to fight against the forces trying to exterminate their people, to keep the people that were still with them alive. They decided it was better to fight for what they thought was right, rather than give up as say that all had already been lost.

I have been thinking about this decision of mine ever since I decided to come to Israel, it has easily dominated my sub-conscious and conscious mind for the past five months. However in the end my decision came down to a few simple ideas. Firstly, the reasons that I came here in the first place: I want to serve this country to the best of my ability, both for the betterment of the country and of myself. I want to be challenged and fight for what I believe in the best way possible. Lastly, I wanted to have a meaningful service with a team of guys that I would emerge with from my service as family. Each day I went back and forth between combat and non-combat, always doing my best to keep an open mind and have the most information possible to make an educated decision. I talked with EVERYONE about this decision. Israeli’s, non-Israeli’s, old people, young people, friends, strangers—each person offering a different perspective or opinion. In the end with some help from both my Israeli mothers Rain Wieselman and Iris Bar I came to understand that after all is done, this will be 2-4 years of my life, in which it is up to me to accomplish the tasks asked of me and to live the life I want to live. To progress towards the person I want to be with the character I want to emulate. In the end I had to look past everything else, much like when driving in the rain—looking past the rain droplets on the windshield to see the road ahead, in the end it was my road and it would be my decisions that determined what lay ahead.

I am an adventurous soul, constantly wanting to be on the move, so that I may experience the world, and share whatever I can with it. A part of this is taking every opportunity given to me, I can’t say no to anything new, it just is not a part of me. I also feed off challenges. When I am faced with something that is outside my comfort zone, I want to experience it. This is not to say that I blindly do anything that is presented to me, I obviously think about my actions and each decision before I make it, but when it comes down to it, if I am not doing something because of fear I take that leap of faith. I prefer to bear the consequences of a conscious decision, rather than bear the ones of indecision. At least in this case I know that I was present in my own life, still making my own decisions.

That is what it came down to in this decision, a conscious decision, for myself, that demonstrated the reasons and ideals that I came for. It is with this prologue that I have the great honor of telling you that I have chosen to serve in a combat (kravi) unit in the Israel Defense Forces. I know this is probably not the decision that most of you would have made for me, but that is because you worry and fear for my safety and as much as I understand that this was one time in my life where I had to do what was best for me.

I am excited, frightened and apprehensive about my decision, but I am happy with it. I am proud to fight for what I believe in, to move one step closer in becoming the person I want to be, and to do my personal best in the service of this country. I realize that this might cause some hardship for you( my friends and family) but in my mind that is the price you pay for being in my family. This country is my life and by being a part of my life, you are sacrificing too, so from the bottom of my heart let me say thank you, both from myself and from this Eretz Yisrael.
As you have probably realized by now, I am not a particularly gung hoe or violent person but I finally come to understand that there are times when after all other options have been exhausted, there are times when weapons are necessary to defend ourselves and the people of this country. Although keepin the fact that I am not so “gung hoe” in mind I have my sights set on the elite unit 669. It is an Airborne Rescue and Evacuation unit that is part of the Israeli Air Force. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unit_669) I have attached the link to let those of you who are interested read more about it but it is an amazing unit. In war time its missions include rescuing pilots and other soldiers who have fallen behind enemy lines, and in non-war time its missions include a lot of civilian related work, people that get lost in the desert or fall into the ocean or any other such emergency. As it is such an interesting unit, it is also EXTRODANARILY difficult one to be accepted into. I have to pass multiple physical testing days, about four levels of them actually. The first round of these tests is Yom Sayerot a try-out day for all the elite units, which B’ezrat Ha’shem I will have in the second week in October. If I succeed there I will have to be offered Gibush Matkal (basically the try out WEEK for the most elite commando unit in the army) *Sayeret Matkal is the most elite unit in the Israeli military focusing on deep enemy territory reconnaissance and counter terrorism. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sayeret_Matkal) IF, and it’s an enormous IF I pass that six day mental and physical battle of a lifetime I will have to be asked to try out for 669. At that point I will have to pass a one day “pool day” which I am sure would be one of the hardest things imaginable, and only then would I qualify to be INTERVIEWED for the unit. As you might have guessed these units require a full background check so even if I make it all the way there I could be turned away because of a security problem. Regardless, I will do all I can to make it as far as I possibly can.

On a bit of another note this week we had our Garin “coming-out ceremony.” It is a profile of sorts of our garin, in which we created the entire evening from programming to food, and presented it to our friends, family and the kibbutz. It was enormous success and I have the honor of telling you all that we named our garin, Maayan, after Elaine and Mark Rothenberg’s son. (for those who are starting to read just now I wrote about him in an earlier post, but here is the link to his website) (http://maayanrothenberg.com/). Maayan as you might know means spring or fountain, it is a word that conjures an image in your mind, an image of growth and progress, both things that were important to everyone in the group. I want to take this time to thank Iris, and Gal Bar for trekking up from Tel Aviv for the Tekes and of course Daniel Belik for making the journey was well.

After an incredible night of celebration Daniel and I made our way down south to a kibbutz near Eilat called Ktorah. The six hour journey was more than worth it. After travelling the entire distance of Israel, we were greeted by friendly faces, food, and a day at the pool. What a way to end such a dreadful trip. It was a wonderful Chag in the desert and as always Daniel, Ariel and I had the time of our lives, trekking, eating and dancing all day long.

For Shabbat I am back in Tel Aviv with the Bars, looking forward to some training and relaxation before Sunday, which is the day I officially becoming a soldier of the Israeli Defense Forces. (Although I become a soldier on that day I don’t actually start my service for a few more weeks).

I want to wish everyone Chag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom. May this writing find you with happiness and health in your life.
Unimaginable love from the holy land,
אנדרו

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

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