1700

Four years and eight months. Sunday marked the 1700th day in a row that Hamas has held Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit (click HERE) captive in the Gaza Strip, without access to the International Red Cross, Doctors Without Borders, or any other international aid organization. The last time proof of life was established, was on October 2, 2009, when Hamas released a short video. He was captured on June 25, 2006. At the time, he was nineteen years old.

I don't want to offend anyone, but if you would please allow a short prayer for the soldiers of Israel:

כל בית ישראל, הנתונים בצרה ובשבוה, העומדים בין בים וביון ביבשה, המקום ירחם עליהם ויוציאם מצרה לרוחה, ומאפלה לאורה, ומשעבוד לגאלה, השתא בצגלא ובזמן קריב. ונאמר: אמן

"Our brothers, the entire family of Israel, who are delivered into distress and captivity, whether they are on seas or dry land--may the Omnipresent One have mercy on them and remove them from distress to relief, from darkness to light, from subjugation to redemption--now, speedily, and soon--and let us say: Amen."

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My last full week at Mikveh Alon. It first started with a trip to a base near Rishon LeTzion, a city just south of Tel Aviv. I've been trying to get my profile raised from a 72 so I can do infantry and that required getting an appointment with an IDF eye doctor. My appointment was for Sunday morning. I was able to get an extra hour of sleep, which is always appreciated, hopped on a bus packed with other soldiers, wandered around the enormous base for a while, trying to locate the right building, and finally had my appointment. I tried to b.s. my way through it, explaining that I only wear glasses at night, intentionally neglecting to tell him that I wear contacts all the time, but he inadvertently called my bluff when he told me to put my glasses on a read an eye chart. I had to say that I currently had contacts on, otherwise my sight would have been blurry out of control. That prompted the doctor to do a full eye examination, and at the end, he concluded that my eyes, in fact, have not dramatically improved over the past two months. Big shocker.

So I'm stuck with a 72. But that's ok, so far. On Monday, I go to the Tzanchanim gibbush (Paratroopers tryout). It's overnight and I won't find out how I did until a week or so later. On Tuesday this past week, officers from the Bakkum (the base where every soldier goes for their Tzav Rishon, then later to decide what units to go into, receive clothing and equipment, etc.) came to Mikveh and each soldier told an officer what units he requests. I put down Nahal, Totchanim, and Givati. Nahal and Givati are both infantry units. Technically I should not be allowed in because of my profile. However, as I am Mahal (volunteer from abroad), generally speaking if I request Nahal I go there (many refer to Mahal as Mahal-Nahal). If not, then hopefully Totchanim, the artillery unit. I threw in Givati just as another infantry unit in case. Still, we'll see how I do at the Tzanchanim gibbush, if I pass, and if I decide to do it, and also if I have to sign on for more time. But one step at a time. I need to complete the gibbush and be accepted.

Also, this week we had our final Hebrew exams. Once again, soldiers (cute girls) from the Bakkum came and tested us on our Ivrit. It was the same thing we all did at our Tzav Rishons. A few things. I have one of the best Hebrew language abilities in my machlekah. Also, I know that they are (most likely/hopefully) not going to make anyone "re-do" Mikveh. So, I wasn't really nervous about the test. It also helped that the girl who administered my first test was assigned to me this time. Being flirty is always a fun relief from army life. Long story short, the test was hard, but I made up for it by throwing in a lot of extraneous talking (in Hebrew). Whatever. I'm done with the Alon.

Later that day, we finished our Tzionut. It culminated in a fun and exhausting race around the base between three teams within the machlekah to find their team's color coordinated question about Israeli history, answer the question and sprint to the next location on base. Conveniently, each successive question was somewhere on the opposite side of the base. At the end, the entire machlekah was allowed to climb to the top of the massive water tower/observation post that is the iconic (or infamous?) symbol of Mikveh Alon. It rises about 150 feet and provides a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains and valleys, cities and towns.

Thursday morning we had our "sport test." In true IDF style, it was at 5:15 in the morning. What a great time to see how physically fit our bodies are, especially after having cold muscles and tight limbs from, I don't know, sleeping! Remember we had one at the beginning of tironut? Same thing here. I honestly don't know how I didn't do less pushups or sit-ups than last time (87 and 70, respectively). I also ran a good 2k, about 8:05, which gives me confidence for the 2k I'll run at the gibbush. Afterwards, everyone changed into their Bet uniforms, except for me! I had a doctor's appointment to get to in Nahariyya. Afterwards, I was told to go home! Sweet! Home on Thursday! The best part, aside from not being on base, is that the next morning I wouldn't have to wake up at 3:30. Sometimes, life just works out.

This upcoming week is going to be busy, but also go by fast. I return to base on Sunday, as usual. However, on Monday, me and a bunch of other guys are going to the Tzanchanim gibbush. I'll return to Mikveh on Tuesday. On Wednesday is our "graduation" or "culmination" ceremony of officially completing Mikveh Alon. Then I return home on Thursday. Technically, Mikveh owns the soldiers going into kravi units until the following week, so I'm have to return the following week to Mikveh simply for shmirah duty. It kinda sucks, but won't be that big of a deal. The following Sunday or Monday, I go to wherever it is I will spend the rest of my time in the IDF.

On Wednesday, my machlekah gathered in a classroom for our weekly sum up of the week with our commanders. Michael, one of my friends in my tzevet, commented that Mikveh sapped him of his motivation to go into a kravi unit. Truth be told, I definitely agree with him. I am certainly pumped to finally go into the "real" army, to be with Israelis and become a legit soldier. But the past month and a half at Mikveh has lulled me into a sense of complacency about military life. I don't really consider my base to be actual military life for a number of reasons. First, the commanders are all girls. Hold on, I'm not sexist! The commanders in the army are all guys, even though I hear that girls teach soldiers specialties. Also, there are no Israelis (apart from the commanders/officers). Everyone is like me: a foreigner. Even if someone is legally Israeli, it's because he made aliyah recently. In addition, those of us at Mikveh Alon are at the bottom of the IDF barrel. Our time there certainly counts for my overall service time, but, for example, it doesn't count towards promotion time or being considered a "veteran" soldier. Bottom line, I am a soldier in the IDF, but don't feel like I'm in the IDF.

In addition, even after almost four months in Israel, and not for sight-seeing or some tourist program, but for joining its freakin' military, I definitely don't feel like an Israeli. But I'm also not expecting to feel like someone who's lived here for their whole life. I only bring it up because, for one reason or another, the topic of feeling like an Israeli has been discussed multiple time in different settings over the past week. My Mefakedet brought it up, as did my HaSammelot, and also a few friends. The army is perhaps the strongest influence in creating the Israeli identity and ethos. Everyone serves, everyone has stories, and everyone knows someone who's seen combat. In the IDF, teenagers grow up to become young men and women. While the same generation is going to college in America, Israelis are serving in the military. How can it not have anything but the strongest influence on a young Israeli's psyche? For better or for worse, the IDF shapes Israelis' mindset and consequently Israeli culture. This includes a great appreciation of time and learning to live for today (especially now that Iran is working towards a nuclear bomb, because tomorrow might not be here); impatience; respect for authority, but not blind respect like we often find around the world; and other traits which I will certainly discover over the next year.

(Last night, as I was talking with Kimberly, I finally watched "Don't Mess With the Zohan" on my computer. While it is certainly not one of the best movies ever made, I did laugh a lot because it definitely hit on a lot of stereotypes and comical things about Israel and Israeli culture. Kimberly couldn't believe that I didn't think it was the stupidest thing ever. Maybe I would have if I wasn't so "in tune" with Israeli life.)

What else shapes the Israeli mentality? How about rockets being fired from the Gaza Strip into Beersheva, a city in southern Israel? Yeah, I think that helps, too. On Wednesday, the Islamic Jihad, a terrorist group that operates in Gaza, fired two rockets into Israel. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, rightly, ordered the IDF to conduct a counter-strike and publicly stated that Israel will not stand for this, just like any other nation would never stand for the unprovoked attack on its cities. It is likely that Egypt's current political (and national) instability is opening the way for more arms to be smuggled into Gaza. In addition, in a show of force, Iran just sent two warships through the Suez Canal, the first time since the Islamic Republic took power in 1979, en route to Lebanon. The more instability in the Arab world, the greater influence Iran will wield across the region, or at least make a play for regional supremacy.

But at Mikveh, the world does not exist to us. Our Mefakedets still have us by the balls, but their grip is certainly loosening, both by their own accord and ours. We expect them to "break distance" with us in the next few days. They'll cut the commander-soldier relationship and re-assume their normal teenage girl personas when in uniform as they do, I'm sure, when out of uniform. They'll start treating us like equals. And I'm kinda curious to find out why my Mefakedet's Facebook network (yes, we found her on Facebook, as we found all our commanders) is from the high school twenty minutes from me back home.

But it already feels as distance has been broken, at least on our end. On Tuesday, my mefakedet left the base for whatever reason (as she has done often) and we had a replacement, the machlekah's MaMach (ממח). (I still haven't figured out what that position is exactly, but it's common for MaMach's to fill in for Mefakedets.) We've had this girl as a stand-in before. It is almost excruciating how painfully clear it is that she is green. She does not know how to properly command a tzevet, especially mine, with all of its difficult personalities. By "properly" I mean that she does not know/follow the method of ordering us everywhere. For example, our commanders tell us, in Hebrew of course, "You have seven minutes to go clean your room. Seven minutes, seven minutes, move!" Then we respond, "Yes, Mefakedet, seven minutes!" But this new girl, she'll just say, "You have seven minutes to clean." And we're left standing there, waiting for her to finish her command. At first, her "style" was off-putting. At this point, as we now expect this method, it's quite comical. And that obviously does not help her attempt to command our respect.

In addition, the MaMach decided to do something new with our tzevet. We gathered, as usual, before the flag in preparation for singing Hatikvah with the entire plugot. However, my tzevet showed up a good twenty minutes in advance. Why? Because, in her infinite wisdom (and experience) the MaMach ordered us to run into our rooms, put on our combat vests, and report back outside. She then proceeded to show us how to shoot our guns in the schiva (prone) position. What the &$%@! Seriously?! First off, we're done with tironut. We've BEEN done with tironut. Second, our Mefakedet showed us, seemingly to no end, how to fire in the three different positions. We don't need someone new to try to teach us. Also, the MaMach's teaching did not help her; she had nothing of the confidence required to show soldiers how to use their firearms. She was uncertain of proper positioning, stumbling over her words, not commanding our attention, etc. What's more, she decided to make us go through this pointless exercise on the day we were to have our Hebrew tests. At this point I was getting fed up with the MaMach's incompetence. I said to her how it was wrong for us to go through this worthless exercise, especially on the day of our exams, that our time would be better served practicing our Hebrew. It wasn't going to change anything, just to let her know what I thought of her decisions.

To end this on a positive note, we finally had another krav maga session! That's why we had our guns. And this is also stupid: we picked up our guns from the armory on Monday for a single session of krav maga on Tuesday and had the M-16s for the rest of the week. We needed our guns because we learned how to use them for krav maga. There might be times when we can't fire our guns. For example, we may be in a crowded place and Israeli soldiers don't fire indiscriminately into crowds; or we may be too close to the enemy to get off a shot; or there may be the risk that the 5.56 caliber round, if fired too close, could pass through the enemy, and, because of its rounded tip (as opposed to the bluntness of a handgun's bullet), be redirected and hit a civilian; or any other reason. We did some difficult and exhausting exercises, as is the custom at the beginning of krav maga, then learned the reasoning behind and practiced a few different moves; how to hold the gun properly and stabilize it with your arm, use a quick, snapping motion, and always be ready to advance for another blow or aim your gun if the enemy falls to the ground. I thoroughly enjoyed the session, but don't think it was worth getting our guns for the entire week. Anyway, that's army life.

I was on the bus today and behind me was a guy rocking out to Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" on his iPod, singing along and everything. Classic. Israeli.

Shabbat shalom.

And the days go by...

Over halfway done with Mikveh Alon. The days are going by. This was, in a word, a fast week. I think that's mainly because I am used to the routine of each day. Oh, and of course because we learn Hebrew in a classroom as opposed to basic training activities. But in all seriousness, the daily grind isn't so much a grind anymore. The hardest part of each day is waking up. My "bed" sags and I feel the metal bar of the frame digging into my back as I lay in my sleeping bag. By time I wake up in the morning, my body aches and it often takes a while to loosen up. But we get dressed, brush up, shine our shoes, shave, report outside before the sun rises, and then clean our rooms.

Breakfast is always roughly around 7:30 in the morning. After that, often the morning is a crapshoot. For example, as I mentioned last week, one day the entire base gathered for observance of Tu Bishvat; another day we go straight to our classrooms to learn Hebrew; oftentimes we now gather as a machlekah to raise the flag and sing Hatikvah, the Israeli national anthem.

Our base is situated on a hill and it shares the area with supply depots for the army. One of these is an area lined with armored vehicles....at least we're almost positive they are armored vehicles but not certain because they're under tarps. One morning my machlekah went to this open area (the same location where we used the lasers for our rifles a few weeks back) and they demonstrated one of these vehicles. The driver drove around, picked up speed, made tight turns, climbed embankments. Someone mentioned that the vehicle is called a "Scorpion" in the US military, but that has not been either confirmed or denied. After ten minutes, the driver stopped and half of us went to check out the vehicle as he explained what it's used for, how many soldiers it seats, how many operators, etc. All I can say is, especially being over six feet, it does not look comfortable to sit in it, even as a transport. And add to that the sharp turns the caterpillar tracks can make and the jolting of the vehicle every time it hits a depression or embankment; needless to say, it would not make for a comfortable ride. But all in all, it was pretty cool.

They also had a few heavy guns on display, which they talked about, but didn't demonstrate. These guns were likely ones attached to tanks or other armored vehicles. They also had a sniper rifle. This was, I think, all thanks to the artillery unit that was spending the week on our base. Remember that's what I am likely able to join because of my profile.

But I am still considering Tzanchanim (Paratroopers). Truth be told, the initial glamour that came with thinking about the red boots and red beret, of being a paratrooper, wore off quickly this week. I admit I am starting to think critically about whether or not I want to try out for this elite unit. Can my body handle it? I'm 23, not old (at least in the real world), but certainly four or five years older than the Israeli soldiers. Do I want to put myself through a more rigorous basic training and service time? I'm not Rambo. I don't even know if I have what it takes inside to push myself to that higher level. Fortunately, when I come back to Tel Aviv on weekends, and just sit on the couch and watch TV, have a few (or more) beers, and check up on current events (as far as I am concerned, the world outside the base doesn't exist during the week), I become reinvigorated and excited to be a part of Israel's military. I have become lulled into a false sense of ease and sometimes become lackadaisical about my service while at Mikveh Alon. Life isn't hard. It's even becoming easier. I don't even consider it the "actual" IDF. It's still service time, but it's not with Israelis and we're learning Hebrew in a classroom! I might as well be back at Champaign! Anyway, I have friends who were in Tzanchanim and will learn more about what's in store for me if I decide to take the gibbush.

Anyway, we always have at least an hour or two of Hebrew before lunch, which is around 12:30. Then we often return to the classroom for four to five hours. One major part of our lives now is Tzionut, Zionism. My mefakedet spends about an hour a day with us going over the history of Israel, starting with the aliyahs of the 19th century. I have a confession here: I don't like Tzionut. Don't get me wrong though; I consider myself a Zionist, and a strong one at that (as if you couldn't tell that already). And I love learning about Israel, Jews, and our history. However, Tzionut often comes right before dinner or right before we have our break in the evening, and the concepts being discussed are very important and not understanding the language makes understanding them even more difficult. Personally, I've studied a lot of this and know exactly what the mefakedet is saying. But it also takes away from learning Hebrew.

However, on Wednesday, for our Tzionut, our mefakedet brought us to a classroom that had been converted into a pseudo-Holocaust museum, with a paper railroad taped the floor, candles lighting up the tracks, and pictures on the walls. We all sat down and she asked each of us how we felt. In my improved Hebrew, I mentioned how I had family who didn't make it through the war. Namely four of my grandmother's siblings (the fifth sibling is David's grandfather, remember?). I also said that it's good to be reminded of the Holocaust, to see pictures, because it reminds me of why I am in the IDF and it empowers me. (Also, Thursday was International Holocaust Remembrance Day.)

Each week of course Ivrit has a theme. Last week was Israeli music and this past week was the IDF. We learned about military terms, slang, and other phrases that will help us in the future. Next week is about important figures. And next week is a very good week. I report to base as usual tomorrow, but we go home Wednesday afternoon because Thursday is Yom Siddurim, a day for lone soldiers to take care of personal things. It's nice because the following week we'll be on base for nearly two straight weeks as my machlekah stays the weekend for guard duty.

I've written a lot more than I thought I could about this rather uneventful and quick week. One final thing: Egypt. It appears as if the government is going to be overthrown and President Hosni Mubarak will step down. Nothing certain yet, though. But there has been rioting for days now and the situation as reached a fever pitch. What does it mean for Israel? Many of the articles I have read do not point to a bright future. Mubarak has been in power ever since Anwar Sadat was assassinated for signing a peace treaty with Israel in 1979. The leaders and their backers of these riots do not have the nicest things to say about Israel. Some people think the peace treaty is doomed. While it's a great thing to see people trying to overthrow a dictatorial government (like in Tunisia the other week), the situation in Egypt does not mean good things for Israel.

As usual, thanks for reading. If anyone wants to hear more about any particular thing, just let leave a comment and I'll work it into the next post.