Chicago: Home At Last

With my bro back at Wrigley Field.  Home at last!

My journey has come to an end.  I set out from my home on November 3rd, 2010 and returned July 15th, 2012.  My journey has come full circle; I am sitting at my desk chair just as I did nearly two years ago.  Most importantly, I can finally sleep in my own bed in the comfort of my own home.

On Sunday, I went to an FIDF fundraiser.  A few soldiers spoke at the event.  They were all in reserve duty at this point, and none were lone soldiers.  One was an American who made aliyah (immigrated) and his family soon followed.  He lost an arm during Operation Caste Lead in Gaza in 2008, yet he continued to serve and maintains his combat status.  Very impressive.  I also met another soldier from a Chicago suburb who was home on his meuchedet, his time off to see his family.  He was two draft cycles after me and has since returned for the final few months of his service.  It was weird to think how I would have viewed these soldiers two years ago when I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.  I hear their stories now and can easily relate.  I look at their uniforms and can identify which ones are combat soldiers, what units they are in, know their ranks, even guess their weapon assignments.

However, most importantly, I know what they are going through.  I know how they feel having to go back to base on Sunday morning.  I know how excited they are to wake up, no matter the hour, at the end of the week to go home.  I know how long the days and weeks can seem, how cold and lonely the nights, how joyous and heartbreaking the moments.  I know what it feels like to be on a march that will not end, a guard duty that takes forever, and kitchen duty that makes you want to be anywhere else in the world.  These are the important things about a soldier's service.  It doesn't matter how many times he jumped out of a plane, or how many kilometers he hiked, or how many months he has left; what matters are the emotions involved in every situation and every experience.

So where to go from here?  It wasn't easy getting back into normalcy.  For one thing, I seem to have too much time on my hands.  I'm spending most of my time looking for employment.  Not everyone goes to the IDF looking for it to be a part of a career, but that is the case with me.  From my college studies, I love politics, in particular foreign and international security policy, and want to continue to be an advocate for Israel.

The rest of my time has been spent enjoying life back in America.  My brother and I had a great outing to Wrigleyville to watch the Cubs, then had a few drinks at bars in the area, and met up with high school friends for dinner.  I've been to the city a few times to see friends, gone to the movies, everything I should be doing.  It's now incredibly easy to have a conversation with my sister in LA.  Instead of a ten hour difference, we're back to the normal two hours.  My parents, brother and I drove to Indiana when my parents rode their tandem bike across the state.  I've reconnected with Rabbi Alter (who just had a baby girl, mazel tov!) and we've resumed our weekly learning.

I still receive emails from prospective soldiers.  I try to help them out the best I can, even though I'm often thinking how could one go through all that?  But for me, I've done it and while it certainly was the best experience of my life, it is something you probably could not pay me enough to repeat.  Aside from the physical pain--the broken bones, bruised limbs, aching muscles--it is the emotional toll that military service takes on you that would steer me clear.  Yet, military service I have done.  And I do feel connected in a certain way to servicemen and women throughout history.  As Adam and I have discussed, before the army, we would watch Saving Private Ryan, Band of Brothers, or any military film, and be like, "wow, I can't imagine what it would be like to be in those situations.  I wonder how I would react.  How do those guys do it?"  Now, after jumping out of planes just like the guys on D-Day, after firing the same weapons, after being the same hummers and helicopters, after crawling through the same filth, I have a greater appreciation for what veterans have done and experienced, and I know how far from their grim and horrific reality my service really was.   We now know, more than any civilian, how much we don't know about war.

The army seems so far away at times.  But I look back at my pictures and video or read a blog post and am suddenly right back in that moment of excitement, fear, pain, joy, exhaustion, relief.  And of course I read the Facebook updates from the soldiers still in my company.  I am so thankful to be able to go to sleep knowing that no one will wake me up to guard in the middle of the night.  I like that the only dishes I have to clean will be the ones my family or I get dirty and it will take me minutes, not hours, to clean.  I am glad to have done my duty to be on guard for Israel and the Jewish people, I did my service, and passed the baton on to others.

Before I drag on too much.  I want to thank you for reading.  If you've stuck with me from my first post on October 29th, 2010, or read just a couple, I thank you.  This blog was meant originally as a way for family and friends to keep track of my journey.  Then it was a way for me to record everything that happened.  And finally, perhaps most importantly, it became a medium to teach and inform others about the IDF and Israel.  This is the last post of this blog...yes, I may try to start another personal blog or a different one with the Jerusalem Post (negotiations are ongoing).  I meant for it to come a few weeks ago, but I pushed it off.  I plan to write a book about my experience, drawing largely from this blog.  (If anyone has any suggestions or helpful advice, that would be most appreciated!)

If I didn't persuade you to suddenly become a supporter of Israel, or to pick up a pen and donate money, or to fly over to Israel and join the army, that's fine, it wasn't my intent.  My aim was to inform: I simply wrote what I saw, what I read, what I experienced, and what I felt.  Whether you support the IDF and Israel or not, I hope you can understand why I did what I did.  I hope you can respect what I and thousands of others have done in the pursuit of our beliefs and our passions.

And, although my story as a lone soldier in the IDF story is over, there are still hundreds of others still serving Israel away from their families.  Continue to pray for their well-being and their safety.  If you want to get involved, look to the FIDF, Lone Soldier Center, or Lone Soldier Project as ways to contribute money, time, or simply well wishes.  I have links on the right for many of these outlets.

If you want to get in touch with questions or advice about joining, I am more than happy to help.  I will continue to respond to any comments.

Again, I thank you.

Aleichem shalom! !עליכם שלום

from the IDF to the USA

I smiled.  It wasn't the biggest smile ever; my cheek muscles weren't burning, but my lips were still stretched back to my ears, revealing two rows of teeth.  The smile wasn't as big as the one I displayed in December. That one I could not shake for days.  From the moment I left the base until I stepped onto my flight, the smile never left my face.

My recent July smile, however, was a more somber one.  The last couple weeks in Israel dragged on like an overstayed vacation.  When I bought my plane ticket back in February, I thought I would want to spend a few extra weeks in Israel to relax and finally enjoy the country.  By the time July 1st arrived, I was more than ready to go home.  In all honesty, my last few days in Israel dragged on.  My mind was already out of the country, it was just the clock that needed to catch up.

When I landed at JFK in New York, Adam was waiting to pick me up.  It was the start of a two-week layover on the East Coast.  On the drive to New Jersey, we stopped at a Wendy's.  American fast food!  Oh man was it good!  I was definitely missing the ability to order a meal at a drive-thru.  So American, so wonderful!

Over those two weeks, I soaked up everything that means to be American.  I relished every opportunity to do something I hadn't done in a while.  Even the most basic things seemed more incredible than usual, even more so than my time home in the winter.  Now let's see here, what did I do...

-Played catch with Adam, probably the most American thing possible
-Turned right at red lights
-Ordered food in English
-Went to an Iron Maiden concert with David and Lena, my first hard rock/metal concert
-Watched fireworks on the Fourth of July
-Went rafting on the Delaware River
-Went to a Yankees game
-Traveled the New York subway
-Went out partying in NYC
-Never had to speak a word of Hebrew

I stayed in Brooklyn for a few days with a friend from high school.  One day, we took the subway to southern Manhattan to see the progress on the World Trade Center site.  I was last in New York in 2008 when I was still in college.  At that time, the site was still completely under construction, with a lot of noticeable wreckage covering the entire construction area  Now, however, an incredible amount of progress has been made.  The site is turning into both a place of sacred remembrance of the nearly 3,000 innocent lives murdered by terrorists, and a testament to the American resolve to remain greater than our enemies.

                   

A main feature of the new grounds are two bottomless square pools of water at the exact location of each of the two towers.  The names of the victims are etched on the granite on each side of the pools.  Water flows from these ground-level walls down about thirty feet to another level, continues toward the center of the square, and drops off into the bottomless chasm.  It's a senseless waste of water, much like the senseless waste of lives.  They are forever drawn down into the depths of destruction so long as terrorism is allowed to thrive.

The US "war on terror" of the past decade is only one part of a larger struggle.  Unfortunately, in our uber-hysterical need to be political correct, we attach a misnomer to a very serious and real threat.  The struggle we face is against radical and militant Islam.  Our war on terror is really a war on the growing radicalism and ever-violent segment of Islam that wish harm on the West, the United States, and Israel.

I tried, but could not find, who first said the famous (or infamous) quote: "Not all Muslims are terrorists, but unfortunately all terrorists are Muslims."  While it is not completely accurate, it encompasses the gist of worldwide terrorist attacks of the past couple decades.  Israel knows this all too well.  The US has been engaged in deadly wars in Iraq and Afghanistan after being attacked in New York.  The World Trade Center site is becoming an incredible memorial to the lives lost on September 11th.  It is a hallow place.

I felt my journey came full circle and then some.  In Israel, I was trained to fight an enemy that more-often-than-not resorts to terrorist tactics; they want to instill fear and change people's actions and mentality through violence.  I return to America and see the consequences of their actions.  I return and remember that we must always be vigilant.  I remember that we must always fight for what is right.  If not through guns and force, then through words and speech.

So what does a lone soldier do when he returns home?  He may move on to other ventures like many of my friends.  Or he continues to defend what he fought for.  He continues to defend his people and his nation, both in the US and Israel.  He continues the fight.

Ending an Era

There was a scaled map in Yafo on the ground outside
a cafe; here is the distance to Gibraltar from that location

Of all my time in Israel, starting with my Birthright trip over two and a half years ago, I have never been farther south than Beersheva.  That means, I am yet to see even half of this tiny country.  Truth be told, however, that half is virtually all desert with nothing to see or do.  About a half hour bus ride south east of Beersheva is a tiny town called Dimona.  It's an open secret that Israel's nuclear facilities are located on the outskirts of this desert dwelling.  Southwest of Dimona, and an hour's drive due south of Beersheva, is Mitzpe Ramon.  It's a tourist attraction, a place for Israelis and foreigners alike to start off on desert hikes, enjoy the flora and fauna of the Negev, or gaze in amazement at an enormous crater.  And then finally, a few hours drive further south, is Eilat, Israel's port city on the Red Sea and the number one tourist destination.  In a country full of religious and historical sites, Eilat is neither.  In a beach country, with dozens of great spots to lay out on sand, frolic in the warm Mediterranean waters, and ogle at the beautiful, gun-totin' Israeli babes, Eilat is still above and beyond a choice getaway spot for anyone with a little extra time on their hands and a few extra shekels in their pocket.

For me, Eilat has been that one elusive place in a country with few locations that can be called difficult to access.  Granted, in the army I've been to some pretty remote locations, but on the whole, every town is simply a couple hours drive form virtually anywhere else.  Except for Eilat.  From Tel Aviv, it's a forty minute flight on a jet plane, an hour on a propellor plane.  A bus ride is five and a half hours.  That's actually about the same distance to Kiryat Shemonah in the north.  However, instead of making multiple stops in densely populated cities along the way, the bus ride to Eilat traveled to Beersheva, through Dimona, then hugged the Jordanian border the entire way south, with only a few random structures along the way for company.  The two lane highway added to the feeling of isolation in a foreign world.  The beautiful lush green of the northern half of Israel begot the incredibly dull, brown sand and rock of the Negev.  But it was a beautiful ride.

Amy and I, on our bike ride

This trip had been built up for quite a long time.  After initially wanting to travel to Eilat after finishing my first three months in the army at Mikveh Alon, then attempting to go with a group of guys during my week break last year in July, then planning to go during a long weekend in November when I moved to my apartment in Jerusalem, and finally deciding on the second to last weekend in Israel.  The imperative to visit Eilat became even greater after my best Israeli friend Sam moved down a year ago for a job.  I had been to his home in Petach Tikvah virtually every Friday evening for dinner with his family since moving out here.  Since he moved to Eilat, I had barely seen the guy.  Now I could kill two birds with one stone.  The only question was which weekend would work for both of us.

After I was officially released from the army on June 14th, a few of us lone soldiers met up Thursday evening in Tel Aviv for one last night out.  It was a great plan in theory, but the execution didn't turn out so well.  Not everyone could make it because a couple guys were actually leaving the country within the next twenty-four hours and needed to pack or get to the airport.  The few of us who did make it out were split up, and more enjoyed seeing each other for a last time than actually being out in Tel Aviv for the evening.  Either way, it was one of my last nights out.
I stayed the rest of the weekend in Tel Aviv, went to the beach with David, Amy and the girls in Herziliya on Friday, then with my friend Tomer on Saturday in Tel Aviv.  On Monday, Amy and I took a nice bike ride from their apartment to the Mediterranean, then south along a bike route to Yafo/Jaffa, then back, stopping for lunch and a quick dip in the sea.  That evening, I made it back to my apartment in Jerusalem for a couple evenings to organize my things.  Quick story: since being released, I am no longer able to ride public transportation for free.  My teudat lochem (fighter ID) expired, however, because the bus drivers to and from Jerusalem simply glanced at the card in my wallet and didn't check for a second ID or the expiration, I got two rides free of charge!

Finally, I was in touch with Sam about visiting him in Eilat and bought tickets for Thursday morning to travel south.  Regardless if one is in the military or not, no bus ride to Eilat is free.  Roundtrip from Tel Aviv cost about 130 shekels.  I have a friend who traveled to Dimona via train (he was still in the army so it was free) and then bought a bus ticket from there to minimize the cost.  Anyway, long story short, the bus is pulling out of the central station in Tel Aviv when Sam calls me and tells me to get off the bus because he is on his way home to Petach Tikvah for his mom's birthday on Friday.  He thought I was planning on coming down the following week!

I continued to Eilat and finally arrived at the last major destination I was yet to visit in Israel.

And Eilat is hot!  But it's a semi-enjoyable heat because it's dry.  Tel Aviv and the rest of israel is very humid.  Eilat, at the far end of the desert and at the tip of the Red Sea, is very hot but very dry.  Temperatures often exceed 100 degrees, but the sun feels good and it's easy to breathe.  The city itself is very small; everything is concentrated along the beach front and does not extend into the desert.  It reminds me at the same time of Las Vegas and Venice Beach.  Enormous, luxurious hotels are sprouting up everywhere, yet with the heat and Israeli small-town feel to every city, it feels very much like Los Angeles.

Eilat is situated in a very interesting and precarious position.  Less than a kilometer to its east is Jordan and the resort of Aqaba.  A few kilometers to its west and south is Egypt and the city of Taba.  Sam told me that on a clear night, it is possible to see lights from Saudi Arabia.  A large Jordanian flag towers over its waters.  It's interesting to note the juxtaposition of these three nations, both of whom have peace treaties with Israel, yet which are hardly friendly.

One unfortunate thing about Eilat is that I heard more Russian and Arabic than English.  I was really looking forward to running into some American tourists, but evidently, as Sam explained to me, they generally come in the fall when the weather cools down slightly.

On Sunday, we went to the bus station and I extended my ticket for an extra day so we could go snorkeling.  A major attraction of Eilat is its water sports.  Sam owns all the equipment, so it was free, and a lot of fun.  It was my first time snorkeling and I had a blast.  Eilat boasts the only coral reef in the northern hemisphere, and we swam out to see parts of it.

And as a last parting moment, we went up into the mountains overlooking the city, Jordan, and Egypt, and shared a celebratory cigar and beer, saying farewell to each other for a long time.

I came back to Tel Aviv on Monday, and on Tuesday went with my cousins to Lena and Kaya's end of the school year party in Herziliya.  I was saying goodbye to them the next day and wanted to spend as much time with them as possible.  I was also able to have a few beers with Shmaya that evening.

And the next day, David, Amy and the girls flew to Madrid.  It was weird saying goodbye to them.  It was just as if they were leaving for the army instead of me.  It also helps to know that I'm going to see them in a few days when David, Lena and I go to an Iron Maiden concert in New Jersey!

On Thursday, family friends of theirs drove me to Jerusalem to pack up the rest of my things.  I said goodbye to my roommates, and returned to Tel Aviv.  I enjoyed the last few days in the city, walking around, eating a shwarma.  At this point, on Saturday evening, I'm already packed and ready to go.  It doesn't feel real.  Maybe that's just because I'm pretty apathetic to being here.  I've been bored beyond belief, ready to be home and start the next stage of my life.  I want to that to happen already.

Of the lone soldiers I drafted with way back at Mikveh Alon, I've kept in touch with a handful.  Most of those guys have gone back to their home countries by now.  A couple left a few days after they were released.  Adam left a few days ago.  Still others will leave by the end of the summer.  Some guys will stay in Israel.  Even of those who became Israeli citizens, not everyone will stay.  More will come on all that later.

For all of us, however, it's the end of an era.  It's the end of a time we came, enlisted and served in the military for the State of Israel.  This story is still not over.  All of us carry something with us to the end of our lives of a time we were soldiers in an army that served a cause greater than ourselves.  That story will continue.

For now, this is my last post in Israel.  This lone soldier flies to America at 10:15 am, Sunday morning.

Shia, Kaya, and Lena: gonna miss you guys!!!