What Aren’t Americans Great At?

Last week the Giza Technology Consulting group had a group activity evening of bowling and dinner.  We headed out of the office at 4:30 and headed to the Herzeliyah mall for some good old 10 pin. At first, I could not understand why the entire group was so excited to see me bowl. It turns out that they were all under the impression that Americans are all incredible bowlers. I quickly debunked this stereotype.

When we arrived at the lanes, we divided the group of 8 into two lanes and got right into it. I was the last on my lane, lined up with Yamit, one of my best friends in the office, on the opposing lane. Our lane was kicked off by Tal, an Israeli girl that lived in Texas for several years in high school. Effortlessly, Tal rolled a spare to start off the game. I rolled a 4 (or maybe 7) in the first frame, and then proceeded to roll more gutters (almost all the left side) than I did balls that knocked down pins. The group was quickly disappointed to see that as I had promised, I SUCK(ED) at bowling. Yamit asked me “Yoel, how are you so bad at bowling? You are American.” Eyal, the manager of the technology group proposed “maybe it isn’t originally an American game. I hope so for your sake Yoel.” This of course led me to do some research. According to Wikipedia, primitive versions of bowling date back to ancient Egypt, but the game as we know it was created in New York in 1895. Alas, I have no nationality excuse. Towards the 6^th frame, I was about 10 pins behind Yamit. I said to myself “that’s it Yoel, you need to turn this around. You are going to beat Yamit.” As we both approached the ball rack to start our turn, I looked at Yamit and said “I may be 10 pins behind you, but I am going to beat you this game.” She gingerly accepted the challenge.

By the end of the first game, the taunting of the group had changed to pitty. I rolled something like a 36. I came in dead last of all 8 players. Tal rolled over 100, as did Ori, who turned out to be the best bowler of the bunch. Needless to say, it was quite shameful, and Yamit was loving it. But wait, there was a second game to be played. This was to be the one I was going to turn it around. I set off strong, and within a few frames, I had fixed my game, rolled a few spares and was above my 10 pin per frame benchmark, on my way to breaking a hundred. Yamit started off slowly, and I was on a streak. Of course, my streak had to end. Yamit picked up her game, and I slipped up. Suddenly I was 20 pins behind! I did not lose my cool. I kept focused and worked on shrinking my pin deficit.

The game ended dramatically. I was 24 pins behind, Yamit had finished her game, and I knew I had to make my 9^th frame count. I kept focused and BOOM, 8 pins down on the first ball. The second two needed a precision strike. Sure enough, I kept my cool, summoned all my very limited bowling skills and POW. Spare. I am in it to win it. All I needed on the next turn was 8 pins for the win. Before taking my 10^th frame, I started my trash talking “Yamit, pay attention you are going down.” Off I went – the shot started off right, but like most of my rolls for the day, the ball veered left. I ended up with a solid 7 on my first shot. Three pins remained, and knocking down any one of them would lead me to victory. This is where I think I psyched myself out. I looked at Yamit and said “look, we are tied now. How about I just shoot the ball down and call it a tie.” In all honesty, this was just hedge. I completely intended to win. Of course, I didn’t. My ball went left (again) and missed the leftmost pin by a few inches. Game over, we tied. At this point, I figured Yamit would say good game and we’d be on our way. As I turned to tell Yamit that we were in fact the same level of bowling and that I was just warming up for the first game, she says to me “I am still a better bowler than you.” Although I argued that we were the same since we tied, she wasn’t hearing it. After a bit of debate, I had a realization that I have presented in the table below.

The table above presents mine and Yamit’s bowling performance in our two games of bowling. Yamit improved a respectable 48% from the first game to the second. However, at the same time, I improved a whopping 131%. This led me to the realization that had we played a third game, maintaining out respective improvement rates, I would have blown Yamit away in the third game with a killer score of 191 versus her would be 123. I plan on going bowling at least once while back in the US to work on my game in the hopes of a rematch when I will be able to demonstrate my bowling superiority over Yamit, and at the same time, return national pride to the US.

Eilat Beach Weekend

Back in New York, I had a penchant for planning beach weekends. I planned July 4^th and Labor Day weekend trips for the past three years. My love of group trips to the beach has not changed. Two weekends ago 9 friends and I headed to Eilat (southernmost city in Israel on the Red Sea) for a weekend getaway. After several postponements, we finally made it happen. Finding the right priced hotel and flights was challenging. A special thanks needs to be given to Jo (friend who came on the trip), who found the best hotel deal for us.

Eilat is about a 4 hour drive from Tel Aviv and 3 hours from Jerusalem (assuming no traffic). The flight from Tel Aviv to Eilat is an hour. Most flights leave from a small domestic airport called Sde Dov, on the northern edge of the city, rather than Ben Gurion, which is about 20 minutes from the airport.

Due to varying schedules, locales and budgets, the group arrived in parts. Shimon, Nina, Ruchie and I were able to leave Thursday morning. In order to get in as much Eilat as possible, we flew down on Thursday morning at 6:30. As we deplaned, the heat immediately hit us – temperatures over the weekend reached above 40° C (104° F)! When we arrived at the Vista Hotel, we were told unsurprisingly that our rooms were not yet ready, so we checked our bags in the luggage room and went our own ways. I hopped a bus to Marina Divers at Coral Beach, to begin my two day advances scuba diving certification.

After three morning dives, including a ship wreck and a navigation dive, I headed back to the hotel. As I returned, Ben, Daniel and Ilan arrived from Jerusalem. They drove down since it didn’t make sense to drive to Tel Aviv only to then fly to Eilat – It’d take almost the same amount of time. By that time, we were able to get into our rooms. We all dropped our bags and headed to the pool, which was by no means sizable but was really fun. Daniel brought a “lay low” (British for an inflatable pool mattress) and I a Frisbee. Between those pool accessories, a floating goal that the pool had and two waterproof cameras, we were set for an unending slew of pool games and shenanigans. Flipping people off the pool mattress was a way of life all weekend. We took turns launching each other in the water and made up a bunch of goal based games initially with the Frisbee and then with the Spider Man ball that Ben bought. [To all you Rehoboth Beach trip attendees, you should know this was by complete chance – Ben bought the ball when I wasn't around. What are the odds – Spider Man balls seem to be a beach mainstay.]

 Pool Shenanigans: Natan and I Launching Jeremy (above) Three Perosn Tower (below)

Chillin @ beach bar

After we all showered up and changed, we met in the hotel for a few happy hour drinks before heading to dinner. Ben and Ilan own a bar and brought a nice assortment of bottles with them from their stock. We sat in the lobby drinking our own drinks, out of cups provided by the hotel staff. All weekend they were SUPER accommodating and nice to us. This is a link to my review of the hotel, which I would highly recommend for group trips. After a few pre-dinner drinks, we headed out to town for dinner at a Shipudim (skewer/barbeque) restaurant. We then walked down the main promenade stopping at bars and shops/stands along the way. We relaxed at a beach bar, sang karaoke to a very non-receptive Israeli crowd and lead by Daniel, most of us got henna tattoos, which are for some reason sold all over Eilat. I got a little baby bunny… cute.

Tattoo time

Karaoke on the beach

The next day we all met up at breakfast and shortly thereafter I headed back to the beach with Natan and Daniel for the second half of my scuba diving course. Natan and Daniel are also divers, and they went to dive the wreck I had dove the day before. Later in the day, we all dove together during the last dive of my course. The group came out to the beach for the morning and the whole group spent the afternoon around the pool.

Shabbat was remarkably relaxing. We had an excellent dinner in the hotel, shortly after which everyone went to sleep. We rendezvoused at breakfast and after service and lounging by the pool for a few hours had lunch together. The rest of the day was spent reading, playing Settlers, lounging by the pool and napping. By the time Shabbat finished, everyone was refreshed and rested.

Saturday night was mellow and enjoyable – Italian pasta dinner, beers at a beach bar and live 80’s music at the Three Monkeys. The next morning, Shimon, Jeremy and I left the airport at 6 am for a 6:40 flight back to Tel Aviv. We were all back at our respective offices by 9 am feeling like we had returned from a much longer trip. Eilat was all in all great. I’m excited to return. My next travels however will be to the United States on August 10^th.

Paradise on Earth – Gan HaShlosha

My friend Ari, who I mentioned in an earlier post is visiting Israel from the States for the summer invited me to join him and two friends (Momo and Yossie) on a hike last Tuesday. The plan was initially to hike Nachal Darja – the hardest day hike in Israel. Unfortunately, the plan fell through – we left too late in the day (you need to be on the trail by ~7 am to complete a good chunk of it before the mid-day desert heat sets in. The hike is ~5-7 hours long). Instead, it was decided that we'd head to the north to Gan Hashlosha (“The Park of Three”), also known as Sachne, to hike around a bit and take in some sun and swim. My friend Adam, also visiting from the States, but only for a few weeks joined us as well.

Gan HaShlosha is a little less than two hours north east of Jerusalem, near the top of the Jordan Valley. You may recall the blog post I put up months ago on my first half marathon in Israel, which ran through the ancient city of Bet Shean – the race started and ended at Gan HaShlosha.

The nature park is comprised of three large pools which feed into each other via waterfalls. They pools are surrounded by lush grass fields, beautiful topography and the hills of the Galilee in the distance. When we arrived at the park, we decided to check out the area around the park for a hike before heading to the pools. Right behind the nature reserve, we found Nachal Kibbutzim “The Kibbutz Spring”. After about five minutes of hiking alongside the clear, flowing spring, we quickly called an audible, returned to the car and changed into water clothes and hiked/waded up the stream. The cool water was waist deep and we were surrounded on both sides by tall reeds. We joked that the scenery was right out of Forest Gump in Vietnam. It was really gorgeous.

Nachal Kibutzim

Funny/terrible sign

After about 20 minutes of working our way downstream, we turned around, headed back to the car and drove to the park. Ari and I scoped out a great, somewhat secluded patch of grass that rolled right to the water front, where we “set up camp”. Momo lit up the grill, we threw on some sunscreen and headed to the water. The ‘pools’ at Gan HaShlosha are more like ponds. The water is clear and cool. In the pools, there are little fish that nibble on your feet and snack on your dead skin. You can get a live, free, natural fish pedicure at Sachne. The sensation was very ticklish and I could not help shrieking like a school girl every time the fish went to work. Thanks to my new waterproof camera case, I was able to snag a picture of the fish in action.

After swimming for a bit, we got out of the water to barbeque. After our cookout, we took Ari’s medical advice and skipped the half hour between eating and swimming and got right back in. We swam to a waterfall and then checked out the other pools, and swam some more. When we had our fill of swimming, sunning and lying about, we headed back to Jerusalem.

Sachne was serene and beautiful and is definitely worth a visit, but be warned – on holidays, especially Passover, the place is PACKED and is probably not worth visiting.



Momo swimming with a beer... the good life



Fish eating at my feet

A cave off of the top pool

Happy British Nakba Day (July 4th)

Last Monday, my roommate Shimon hosted his annual July 4^th Barbeque. It was quite the event, with somewhere between 70 to 100 people in attendance. Shim had 3 grills going and we went through a ton of burgers, a heap of hot dogs and a few beers. The party featured a special Shimon crafter “America” playlist (Shimon takes his playlists very serious… don’t touch his iPod at his events... or ever for that matter) that even featured a few country tunes that he allowed me to contribute in order to really encompass all that is good about the US. The crowd was a mix of Americans, Canadians, Australians, Brits, New Zealanders, South Africans and even Israelis. Yamit, my Israeli friend and co-worker, later commented that there were not enought Americans at the party. I justified the crowd in explaining that the barbeque was the ideal venue for Americans like Shimon and I to showcase how amazing US is to foreigners from around the world.Jeremy and I made a nice bon fire and I cooked up an again slightly overly sweet pot of poike – I am getting better at it – no burn this time. Next time I’ll go easier on the coke and I’m sure it’ll be my best poike yet. Sorry I don’t have a lot of pics from the event – here are the two that I do have.

Aviva Honoring the Flag

Patriotic Poike

Happy Belated America Day. Or as a friend from London called it, the British Nakba Day. Nakba means "day of the catastrophe" in Arabic. The Nakba is annually observed by Israel's Neighbors and Palestinian and Israeli Arabs to commemorate, mourn and re-threaten the birth and existence of the State of Israel. I thought it was a cute joke on what is otherwise a terrible and hate filled concept.

Air Force Wings Ceremony

I received an email a few weeks ago from Nefesh B’Nefesh (“NBN”) offering busing to the Air Force Academy’s Wings Ceremony, in which pilot cadets graduate from flight school and “receive their wings”.

Being a pilot in the Israeli Army, is just about the most exalted position there is. In order to even qualify for the course, draftees must have very high test scores and a perfect physical profile. Only after several rounds of testing are a few select cadets admitted to flight school. The program is three years of rigorous studies and super demanding expectations. Only 10% of flight school cadets complete the three year training course. Since the army invest so much time and effort into its pilots, all pilots are committed to a twelve year army service. Once they have completed their first three years, they reach the rank of officer and have relatively cushy living conditions, at least on army standards. They also complete the army with both undergraduate and masters degrees, everyone in Israel’s respect and an incredibly strong network of successful businessmen, politicians and army personnel. When a cohort of cadets graduate flight school, the army does not treat it as a regular tekes (ceremony). The celebration is no holds bar. The army puts on one (several) heck of a show for friends, family and guests to celebrate the occasion. The pilots actually had three ceremonies, all of them were relatively similar as I understand. The first two Sunday and Tuesday were ceremonies where they were promoted to officers, and Thursday’s was the official Wings Ceremony, which was attended by the President and Prime Minister as well as many politicians and army generals.

In the past few weeks, a few friends from the States have come to Israel for the summer, and they all have relatively flexible schedules. Ari is in medical school and came to do research in a hospital. Since doctors employed by the government (a lot of them) are on strike, he has found himself with a lot of free time. Ruchie just arrived last week and is checking out Israel for a few months, trying to figure out if she wants to move here. Sarah is here to study for the summer at Pardes, a Judaic studies school in Jerusalem, which did not start classes until the day after the Wings Ceremony. So, lucky for me, I had a fun group put together for the trip.

We all met at the central bus station for a food court lunch before heading to the NBN bus.

After a 2 hour bus ride, we arrived at an air force base outside of Be’er Sheva (largest city in the South of Israel). As we pulled into the lot, we were told to have a look around the meuseum exhibit and that the graduation ceremony would start in about two hours.

The exhibit housed an array of aircraft used by the air force in the past and present. Everything from a firefighting plane to an F-16. It was pretty sweet. Stationed at each plane and helicopter was a pilot or museum representative that was speaking about the aircraft. The exhibit also had several missile defense systems on display, including an anti-missile system and the Iron Dome (previously discussed here). I thought it was kind of funny that there was an anti-rocket defense system on display, when I read in the news that Israel has not deployed enough batteries to defend all the residents in range of terrorist fired missiles from Gaza. I asked a soldier who worked with the Iron Dome system why this one was here and if there were in fact enough to defend from Gaza. He told me that that information was confidential. I took that to mean that there probably shouldn't be a rocket defense battery on display.

Here are some of the pics from the exhibit. Thanks to Nina S for showing me how to upload an album slideshow.

We headed over to the seating for the ceremony and air show. It started with several pilots taking off in stunt planes, then several groups of soldiers marching in, followed by the pilots. Seeing the whole procession was very moving and exciting. Large groups of families and friends came out to cheer on the pilots, many of them in matching T-shirts or hats cheered wildly as their pilot’s name was called. I got a kick out of the short profiles they gave on each pilot “Avi from Tel Aviv, son of Mark and Malka, brother of Zev and Shira, boyfriend of Sarah.” I thought the girlfriend was a funny touch – it was of interest to note that very few pilots were single. They are indeed a hot commodity.

After a few speeches including a blessing from the pilots’ commander, the air show began. The air force put on an awesome display showcasing everything from a historic Spit Fighter from World War II to F-16. The F-16s performed a bombing run with bombs willed with water. It was incredible to see how fast the F-16s flew – blink and you missed them. The accuracy of their bombing at that speed was also dazzling.

Apache helicopters fired guns a targets, the air force simulated a recovery of an injured soldier and an extraction of a ground force with Blackhawk helicopters landing and picking up the ground troops as Cobra attack helicopters stood guard and fired missiles at “enemy targets” over a kilometer away.

The demonstration ended with the performance of a high ranking air force general that has been flying for over 25 years in an F-15 fighter plane. He performed a few minutes of aerial feats turning the plane sharply in loops and circles, spinning and corkscrewing until each person either felt nauseous or was dying to get in the navigators seat.

The pilot’s graduation ceremony is held twice a year (and there are usually several practice/minor ceremonies before the official graduation. Each of them has an air force demonstration. If you ever have the chance to see on in person, I highly recommend it, especially to my former roommate Yaakov - I was thinking about you the whole time I was there.

Kite Day

A little over 6 months ago, my friend Gideon and I bought coupons on dealhayom.co.il (“deal of the day” site like groupon) for paragliding in Netanya, a city on the beach north of Tel Aviv. For those of you that do not know, paragliding the activity of strapping oneself to a giant kite in windy conditions and flying through the air on the pull of the wind.

The coupon had a six month expiration window, and due to our busy, travel smattered, conflicting schedules, we were unable to pick a day that we were both able to make the trip and paraglide. Luckily, the owner of Israglide, Udi, was super flexible and told us not to worry about the expiration date. Gideon and I finally made it happen this past Friday, about a week and a half after the coupons expiration date.

Udi turned out to be pretty laid back about everything. He told us we could come more or less whenever we wanted on Friday. When we arrived, the whole flight was so informal that I didn’t have to time to think that what I was doing was madness. I was directed by a guy at the entrance to go to “that guy”, who turned out to be Udi. Udi promptly handed me a helmet and told me to put on a large backpack contraption that would in a few minutes be clipped to him and hold me firmly to the kite. As we stood 10 feet from the cliff side overlooking the Mediteranean beach below, I was surprised that I was not asking myself if this was a bad idea. Instead I was excitedly strapping in as Gideon snapped pics of me. Within minutes of our arrival, I had my helmet on, pack clipped in and was strapped to Udi and the giant kite/parachute. My flying lesson went something like this “lean and walk forward. Do not walk backwards ever. Once we take off, sit back into the pack.” He told me some other rules, but it was all told so quickly I simply figured if it was that important I just heard it, or its not that complicated. Suddenly, the parachute was up in the air and we were walking towards the edge of the cliff. Before I could decide if I was game to jump up and hope the chute caught us, we took off. We soared above the cliff drop, gliding north and south along the coast. As we flew past a nearby hotel that was hosting a wedding in the back, Udi started singing traditional wedding songs to the crowd below (it was cocktail hour, not the reception). Kids waved to us above as we swooped down accelerating and climbed slowly to our initial elevation.

During my 25 minute flight, I got to talking to Udi. He was a pilot in the army and had been flying hiw whole adult life. I asked how long it took to learn to fly a paraglider, and was surprised to hear that certification took 100 hours until a person was competent to gl it alone. The idea seemed cool to me, but the time commitment is prohibitive. During our flight, we passed and flew alongside Gideon and his buddy pilot. When we came in for the landing, Udi told me to simply prepare to stand. Embarrassingly, the landing wasn't so easy for me… I fell over, taking Udi down with me.

           In we come...                                               For our smooth landing

                                                           Fail!!!

After the flight, Gids and I took advantage of the location and headed to the beach. We rested, swam, played Frisbee and flew my kite. I keep a small keychain kite (see pics) in my backpack, and am proud to day I was able to make it fly out to the point that there was no more string without getting up from my beach bed, a true accomplishment.

The Paragliding was a really fun and different activity that I would categorize as a calm extreme sport, similar to scuba diving – nothing moved too quickly, and yet you are in a perpetual environment of danger as you enjoy the activity and take in the unique scenery and sensations that come along with it. The price of 550 shekel (~$160) seems a bit high for the 25 minute flight, but Gideon and I both agreed that at 250 shekel (~$70), it was a good worthwhile time. In case the post and pics haven’t done it justice, take a look at this short video:

What Gilad Missed

A few days ago, I posted Gilad Shalit 5 Years in Captivity. I mentioned in the post that I shared the presentation with several friends that led Birthright trips. My friend Elissa B, was the first person to use the presentation on a Birthright trip (we lead trips at the same time, she used it before I did), and gave me very encouraging and appreciated feedback.

Elissa happens to also be one of if not the biggest fan of this blog, and in response to my post from earlier in the week, she sent me to the site http://www.whatgiladmissed.org/ and video, which I had not yet seen or would have otherwise included in my post.

What Gilad Missed from JCPA on Vimeo.

The video tries to make people realize the magnitude of five years. While I think that some of the things the video points out that Gilad missed are not such big events (Lady Gaga, Royal Wedding, Nintendo Wii, and Brett Farve's career track - although this one has some humor and perspective - he retired three times in 5 years), the reality of 5 years is brought out through the video and is sure to strike a chord with younger, generally more apathetic population. A demographic that needs to be captivated and familiarized with the injustice and horrific treatment Hamas has dealt Gilad Shalit, the Shalit family and Israel as a whole.

Another interesting point I’d like to share while I have the floor and am on the topic relates to a recent condemnation of Hamas by a group of human rights organizations including Amnesty International, human Rights Watch as well as both Israeli and Palestinian. The released statement  condemned Hamas’ illegal treatment of Gilad, for not allowing him to contact his family or be visited by the Red Cross.

While some view this as a huge statement, especially from Palestinian human rights groups, it was terrible to see that the statement did not call for the release of Gilad Shalit – while the organizations want him treated fairly, they did not call for his release. This is a terrible shortcoming. Interestingly, I read an article (I’m sorry I can’t find it), which discussed how Hamas is furious with Palestinian human rights organizations for saying the treatment of Gilad Shalit is inhumane.

In response to Hamas’ continued refusal to abide by international law of prisoner treatment, the Prime Minister announced last week that he was imposing a series of crackdowns on the liberties given to Palestinian prisoners. These include high speed internet access and access to education to receive higher degrees. Just to once again put things in perspective, while Gilad Shalit has been held in isolated captivity for the past five years, a Palestinian could have completed his PhD and would now be afforded the title of doctor upon his release. The injustice is nearly too much to bear.

Thanks again for the link Elissa.

Going to the Movies in Israel

Jerusalem is a very social city. On the average Thursday or Saturday night, there is often a party, get together, dinner outing or other happening(s). As a result, going to the movies, is not a popular activity in Jerusalem. At least that is what I told myself was the reason I had not been to the movies in Israel since I arrived in August. Additionally, when I came to Israel, I brought with me a projector that I have used several times to host movie night in my apartment. Having a nice screen and arrangement at home also contributed to the streak of not going out to the cinema.

A few weeks ago, The Hangover 2 was released globally. Generally movies come out in Israel a few weeks to months after they do in America; however, some films, usually blockbusters like the Harry Potters, are released on the same day worldwide. Despite hearing mixed reviews on the Hangover 2, my roommate Shimon, friend visiting from America after leading a Birthright trip Elissa, and friend from Tel Aviv Chaim and I headed out to the Binyanei Haumah Movie Theater to see for ourselves if the original masterpiece's sequel could hold up the to the same level of humor as its predecessor. Unfortunately, this was the only cinema in the city showing the movie. At the end of it all, I enjoyed the movie a lot, but had one of the most “Israeli” experiences of my 10 months here, which has led me to swear off ever returning to that cinema, and possibly the movies in Israel at large.

We arrived to the movie theater with only a few minutes to our show. As we entered the lobby, I was shocked by the chaos that stood before us. Rather than standard lines of patrons waiting in a civilized line, there was a swarm surrounding the ticket booth. There were not ropes or dividers in place, only 50+ people sticking their arms out over the person in front of them, hoping that the employees behind the counter would take their cash or credit card next. To me the scene was pandemonium. To Shimon and Chaim, it was a Saturday night at the movies. Now I have been top the movies in Israel in past trips – namely when I studied here for the year. While you always needed to be weary of people trying to cut you with a slew of excuses ranging from “Oh I didn't think you were in line” to “my movie is starting in X minutes”, there were lines that were for the most part respected. Here however, there was nothing.

I took to the side of the counter hoping to circumvent the large crowd facing the front as Shimon started working his way forward from the front end. In Israel, movie theaters have assigned seats.a This ensures that people can sit together, provides people who come early with the best seats and efficiently seats patrons in the cinema. Also, if this were not the case, theaters would be full of people saving seats for their friends who would show up 20 minutes late it at all, people moving all about during the movie and all sorts of other inconsideration. As a result, a transaction that in the States takes 30 seconds takes all together here as the ticket seller asks the customer their preference on front or back of the cinema, isle or middle of the row. Also, a large percentage of the customers were students and soldiers. These patrons receive discounts, which the ticket salesperson needs to manually enter for each patron. In the end, it took us about 15 minutes of “line” jockeying and maneuvering to get tickets. Shimon got to the front of the line and made the purchase as the ticket girl ignored me from her side.

We entered the theater to a slew of disappointments. The actual theater room was a bad shape – really wide at the back and small in the front – the screen was impressively small. As we sat down, I immediately noticed how loud it was in the room – everyone was speaking. It was okay though, because we were only in the previews. Coupled with the loud volume in the room was the low volume of the speakers... the sound system sucked. Again Shimon was un-fazed by all of this.

The lights turn darker and the movie begins. The crowd does not stop speaking. A series of “SHHHHH”s are followed by a round of “NU”s and “SHTOK”s (shut up). Within a few minutes the room reaches the quietest it will get throughout the movie, which for the most part is quiet with the smattering of jerk teenager talking on his phone and inconsiderate couple talking to each other. No later than the lights dimmed did latecomers start arriving to the cinema. Rather than trying to “keep it down” and quietly slip into their seats, these folks put their cellphones to work, turning on the flashlight iPhone app to make sure they could see where they were going in the otherwise dark movie theater – as though there was going to be something in the isle just waiting to trip them up. Several groups that came late decided that instead of sitting in the open seats that they were assigned, it was absolutely okay to ask people to slide down so two couples could sit together. The inconsideration had no end.

American movies in Israel have Hebrew subtitles. Many of the jokes are projected on the screen seconds before the lines are said. This leads to about half of the crowd laughing before the joke is delivered, which makes the joke un-hearable to the rest of us.

At the end of the movie, as expected, everyone wants out of the theater immediately. It does not matter that there are people in front of you... you want out and if pushing will help (it won't but who cares) then you will push. This is of course the popular mentality there, which really helped close off an awful nights at the movies. I left that theater with the resolve to never return. I expect it will be a while before I change my mind on that. While I know that not all movie going experiences in Israel are like the one described above, there are some universal consistencies. Seeing the Hangover 2 was one of the most “Israeli” experiences I have had since I arrived. I will soon be sharing another with you that I expect

Gilad Shalit - 5 Years in Captivity

Yesterday marked the fifth anniversary of the capture of Gilad Shalit, a then 19 year old soldier who was abducted by Hamas in an attack on an Israeli outpost through use of a tunnel. For five years, Gilad has been held captive by Hamas who has demanded the release of over 1,000 convicted and suspected terrorists, including some convicted of murder, for Gilad’s release. Everyone in Israel knows the name Gilad Shalit and suffers along with his immediate family, as we all pray for his release.

Israel’s reaction to the terrible situation of having a captive soldier in enemy hands, brings to light the humanity and value of human life that Israel lives by. The fact that negotiations for one soldier are not whether 1,000 terrorists will be released for his freedom, but which terrorists the country can release is a testament to our sanctification of life.

In preparation for my Birthright Israel trip, I prepared a presentation that illustrated the dilemmas and challenges faced by the government and Israeli society with regards to a captive soldier. The presentation was used in what I thought was a very powerful discussion session between our participants and soldiers that joined our group. After presenting the presentation to my group, I shared the presentation with several friends leading Birthright trips. Over the weekend, it dawned on me that these ideas should not be shared only with Birthright participants, but should be discussed by everyone who cares for Israel. As a result, I have uploaded the presentation here and encourage you to page through, read and or share this material with others. This presentation was largely inspired by a speech I listened to by Dr. Daniel Gordis presented at Suburban Orthodox Congregation Toras Chaim (my families synagogue in Baltimore). Dr. Gordis’ speech titled “Not a Moment’s Regret: Reflections of an Unabashed Zionist” is inspiring and a very worthwhile listen.

Please keep Gilad Shalit in your thoughts and prayers, and may we soon celebrate the joyous day of his return to Israel.

My Tzav Rishon (First Command)

I arrived to the Lishkat Hagiyus (draft office – herein “LH”) for my Tzav Rishon (first command – army testing day – herein “TR”) not fully knowing what to expect. I had heard varying bits of advice and recollections from other people’s TRs, some proved more helpful than others. The day started out impressively efficiently. I checked in at the front desk and was handed a piece of paper with a printed barcode. I was told to go to the third floor and scan the barcode on the yellow machine to start the process.

Off I went. Not a minute after I scanned the barcode, a nice teenage girl in an army uniform asked me to follow her into a large room with small interview booths. Each booth had a chayelet (female soldier) on one end and a plain-clothed person, mostly guys in their teens, on the other. Each interview spot was separated by a divider – like small cubicles with the wall between two people facing each other was removed.

The interview started with a thorough interview of my personal and family history – everything from what I’ve done since high school year by year to my parents and sibling’s birthdates and occupations. After out interview, I had a Hebrew test. This started off dismally. My interviewer started me on Hebrew level 5 and asked me to read her a sentence and tell me how the words below related to the sentence. I understood the whole sentence and did not know a single word below. The test was especially painful as she asked me word by word: “Do you know this one?” “No.” “Do you know this one?” “No.” you get the picture. When we went down to level 4, it was similar – I knew a few of the words but not well. Level 3 was okay. From there though, I picked up my game. I was asked to write sentences to fill in blanks like “I wanted to” ______________ before I _________.” I am better at these kinds of prompts. At the end of the test, I joked with her asking if I would be able to draft despite my Hebrew level. She told me my Hebrew was excellent. This is (a) a lie and (b) made me weary of anything she told me thereafter.

After my Hebrew test, I was directed to the purple machine on the second floor for medical tests. This was one of the funnier parts of the day. My first stop was a urine test. I enter a room with two girls sitting at a desk both facing the wall. One hands me a cup, tells me to go to a half a flight of stairs down and fill up the cup. I oblige and return with the cup wrapped in paper towel. While I am sure it is a common site to have guys walking through the halls with cups of pee, I shied away from that and took the modest approach. When I returned to the room, one of the girls told me to put the cup on a tray at the other end of the room. I put it down and started to head for the door figuring that they tested a bunch of cups at the same time. As I was walking past the girls, one handed me a plastic strip with a bunch of colorful patches on it. She told me to dip the stick in the cup. After doing so, she instructed me to hold it up for her to see. She glanced over for a second asked a confirmatory “did you get the whole thing in” and then told me to pour the cup into the toilet and throw out the cup and stick… I administered my own urine exam. It dawned on me at that moment that those poor girls may have the worst job in the army – vending pee cups and test strips while watching people test their own urine. At least they have each other.

My next stop was the height and weight stats, blood pressure and eye exam. When the bloodpressure cuff was done the automatic test, I was told to take off the cuff and get on the scale. I then measured my own height as the chayelet testing me read my height from her desk. I say this indignantly as she read my height as 192 cm – 6’3” she robbed me of two inches. After measuring twice I decided to just let it slide. I then did an eye test for distance and color blindness and was directed to the next medical station. When I got there, a mean soldier gave me a form in Hebrew which asked for my medical history. The form was all in Hebrew. I asked if she had an English form to which she responded “no we are all out. Do the best you can and leave the rest blank for now.” Okay so I filled in the form – almost all no’s with the exception of do you drink alcohol? There were several that I didn't understand and one that I understood but didn't want to answer – have you had any stomach issues. You may recall that back in January, I had an ulcer, which while I am sure was a fluke of an occurrence, I did not want to have to report in case it would lower my profile – the score you get that determines what you can do in the army.

After “completing” the sheet I was sent to see a doctor. We chatted for a minute and then he asked me to step into the examination area and strip down to my boxers. The physical exam was pretty simple – he looked me up and down, listened to my lungs and heart, asked me to touch my toes and stand up – this was to see that my back was okay, and then noted that I had bunions on my feet. He asked if they hurt and I told him that they do not. I knew that if I said that they did, they generally don't hurt thank G-d, my profile would be much lower and I may not be able to serve.

The next and last part of the exam is well known and a popular point of discussion. The doctor told me to drop by boxers so that he could “inspect my testicles”. I abided, and as he took inventory he smiled at me and said in English “don’t worry be happy,” and with that, the medical test was done. He looked over my form and noted that I had left a lot of the lines blank I told him I hadn’t understood them. Again in English he said “don't worry about these” and drew a line through the no column for all the questions. The doctor told me my physical profile was an 82 due to my bunions (an 82 is the second highest profile level after a 97. There are set levels, 97, 82, 72, 60 something… I don’t know why they don't just make it 1 – 8 or something like that, but I have already been told by several people – “it’s the army don't ask questions.”) After I received word of the 82, a fine profile may I add, I looked at the doctor with what must have been an overly serious face and asked “Does that mean I can’t be in the Sayeret Matkal?” the Sayeret Matkal (or just the Sayeret – the Unit) is widely regarded as the most elite combat unit in the army. The best of the best go to the Sayeret. Here I was a 26 year old with crap Hebrew joining the army for 6 months (he may not have known that) asking if I am now precluded from the most elite unit in the army. Without batting an eye, or getting my joke at all, he looked at me and said “I’m afraid so, but don’t worry you can still qualify for several good fighting units.” It was a considerate consolation to give, but I was disappointed that my joke was so missed. It wouldn’t be the only time that day.

I was then told by the mean soldier who gave me the form to go to a room on the first floor. This was where things got loopy – I should have been suspicious – things were moving along so smoothly. Till this point, I had not waited in a line all day – I had been warned by friends to bring a book because the TR is full of lines and waits, but I was flying. I got to the room downstairs, present my id to the group of teenagers huddled around iPod speakers and got one of the guys to break away from the pack and take my ID. I wasn’t sure what this room was for, but knew I wasn’t done my test because I had not yet taken the computerized test. He looked me up in the system, asked how old I was and then told me “you don’t have to serve because you are 26.” I explained to him that I knew that, but he ignored me and called over his buddy who also told me I didn’t have to serve. As though I weren’t there, the second guy took my ID card and went into his officer’s office, one of the few adults in the building, and told her that I was 26 and to confirm that I didn’t need to serve. At this point, I saw things getting out of hand. I walked into the office – this is a popular move for me at the LH– someone tells me to wait somewhere, I just follow them. I explained to both of them that I wanted to serve and had received permission from Bakum, the head draft base. That got things back on track. Guy #2 and I returned to Guy #1’s desk and Guy #1 checked the status of my testing. He looked up from his computer and told me I was done. “No I’m not done yet, I haven’t taken the computer test,” I argued.

Guy #1 “It says here you did.”

Me: “Well I’m telling you I didn’t.”

Guy #1 to Guy #2: “Go out and ask them [the girls at the front desk].” [I follow Guy #2]

Guy #2: “Pull up this file” [hands them my ID card] “Is he all done?”

Girl at Desk: “Yes he is finished”

Me: “I still haven’t taken the computer test yet.”

Girl at Desk: “Take him up to the yellow machine room and talk to them”

When we got up there, the idiocy continued – I was told again that the computer said I was done. At this point I wised up. I asked them “what score does the computer say I got? If it’s good, then I’m done.” For some reason this line got them to believe me and they shuffled around some papers, punched a few keys in the computer and told me to wait on the green chairs in the hall for the computer test.

The electronic test was interesting – I had to first take out the battery from my cell phone and read a bunch of rules. One was that I could not use a calculator. Interestingly, there was no math on the test. The test was a series of visual questions – find the piece that completes the pattern, identify the special change analogy – circle : oval as equilateral triangle : ?, where the ? is an obtuse triangle. Someone had warned me that it was difficult to finish in time – they were correct. I had to blink guess the last 5 questions on the second/last section. I hope Malcom Gladwell  was right that when you know something it comes to you in an instant. When I finished the test I was told to go speak to the social workers. This was the last stop – in case you are actually still reading this and are wondering how much longer this post can go for.

The social worker was a girl who was maybe 20 years old. She was interviewing me to determine if I would qualify for lone soldier status – if I didn’t have my parents here, in which case I will be given extra rights from the army. The interview was very thorough although I was under the impression it is fully determined by whether one’s parents live in Israel. She asked me about my job, apartment, my salary, my family… when she asked if I had a car or motorcycle, I said “no but the army gives me one right?” Again I got nothing. I don’t think these were the best lines ever, but this level of humor in the corporate setting would definitely earn a chuckle or a smile. I guess I’m gonna need to up my game for the army or just stop trying to be funny.

At any rate, I left that interview and was again reassured by the girl at the front desk that I was done with my testing. I was also told that I should receive my draft date within a month. I am now planning on returning to the office on Thursday (tomorrow) to (a) show them my diploma, which I was told would verify my degree and raise my overall profile – not the 82 physical profile… sadly a magna cum laud degree in accounting doesn’t up my qualifications as a special ops soldier, (b) to get in people’s faces and make sure things are moving along and (c) to make sure I actually finished all the tests. I’m still irked that I did not need to do any math despite being told I could not use a calculator.

Big News... to Some

As you know, in April I became an Israeli citizen. At the time I wasn’t telling everyone, and certainly not in such a public forum, one of the main reasons for my making aliyah and becoming a citizen now. One of my main motivations in making aliyah now was my desire to serve in the Israeli army.

For as long as I can recall, I have planned on living in and raiding my family in Israel. Israel has a mandatory army service for all citizens. With the exception of a slew of special programs and exemptions, all 18 year old males are required to serve in the army for three years. Girls have the choice of national service of army duty. From one year after completing their initial 3 years of service until about the age of 40-45 (somewhere in that range), all male citizens (some females as well) perform miluim (reserve duty). Generally up to 21 days a year, citizens serve in the army, either serving in their designated positions or other places the army needs help. Almost everyone in mainstream society has served the country in some capacity. As someone who wants to live here and enjoy all the freedoms and security provided by the army and government, I too need to do my part. I do not want to forever live in Israel as an outsider, listening to other’s army stories and feel that I am freeloading off their efforts. I too want to serve the country. Furthermore, I hope to one day have children who will serve the country. I feel it unfair to one day tell my children that they need to serve the very country that I will not have served.

My decision is very personal and not the right one for everyone. However, I do absolutely stand by it. The response I have received from Israelis has varied greatly. Some have told me “Yashar koach” (literally “straight job” – a saying told to someone when they have done something good or well), good luck, or thank you. Others have straight out laughed at me. While everyone knows the army is important, many view it, as it is, as a very bureaucratic, somewhat backwards organization that is run by 18 year olds. They ask me “why do you want to serve? That’s ridiculous. What are you going to do in the army?” I have taken the laughter and taunting in good stride. Once I speak frankly with the naysayers, they understand my rationale and appreciate my idealism, although they still laugh at the idea.

The question of “What are you going to do in the army?” is a good one. Another question I get is “How long will you serve for?” At my age – 26, I am technically exempt from serving in the army. However, single, new immigrants age 22-25 are required to serve for 6 months. They may elect to serve for more time. As a volunteer, I will likely be serving for 6 months – it may be closer to 8 for reasons I will explain below. You may be asking – “What can you do in 6 months? Why even go to the army at that rate?” Valid questions. In 6 months, I will complete basic training, a course training me in my designation in te army and a few months of service in my designation. My main rational to enlisting is to serve the country for the next 20 years in miluim (reserve duty). Again, everyone serves, and I want to do my part.

Several of my friends here have served for 6 months. Most of them became tank or APC (armored personnel carrier) mechanics. Another friend served in the Rabbinate, one was assigned to the army’s budgeting office to work on financial planning, while another ended up writing parking tickets on the country’s main army base for several months. While I recognize the later as a possibility, I am hoping to have a more engaging post. I have been looking into the possibility of becoming a medic in the army, or possibly serving in artillery or becoming a mechanic.

The process for enlisting in the army has not been the easiest, but what in Israel is easy? It started days after I made aliyah. I went to the Lishkat Hagiyus (the draft office) office in Jerusalem to request my Tzav Rishon (first order – the day each soldier is tested for fitness to serve and is profiled for designation). I went to the offices a few days before Passover after having been advised by Ellie, the army coordinator at Nefesh B’Nefesh that the office would be closing for a month to upgrade its systems.

Unfortunately, since I had only recently made aliyah, I had not yet made my way into the army’s system, a problem I was assured was not fixable by anyone in the office. I’d have to wait for the system upgrade to be rolled out, at which point I would be able to come back to the office and request a Tzav Rishon (since I am over 25, I needed to be granted permission to serve). After Passover, I waited for a month and got in touch with Ellie only to discover, unsurprisingly, that the system upgrade had not been completed on time. This meant that I would not be able to have my Tzav Rishon until after my trip to America and my Birthright trip.

With no other option but to wait, I returned to America for my weeklong visit, and led Birthright, all the while eager to get back to the draft office to move things along. The day after Birthright, Thursday, I returned to the office only to discover that it was closed! After over a month of system upgrades and limited work, the office was given a day of vacation… I should have called before I showed up.

So on Sunday, I set out again to the office and this time met with Matan, one of the two guys who worked in the office I was told to go to. The rest of the workers in the office were girls, who mostly appeared to do nothing. To be fair, you need to understand what the draft office looks like to appreciate the scene.

The entire office is basically run by 18 year olds, mostly girls. All the soldiers in the office sit at desks, wear uniforms and look like children. Picture the administrative offices of Never Never Land – there are a few adults, but they are for the most part not around. Everyone does a job (to some capacity), but all in all it appears that very little work gets done. Behind everyone’s desk is a plethora of cards with pictures from other soldiers in the office with puffy paint or glitter writing saying things like “Happy Birthday Cutie” or “You are the funniest guy in the office. – Tamara”. So in this setting, it seems more popular to gather around a desk and take turns playing ring tones of iPhones than doing work. I can’t really criticize much, because let’s be honest, most of my friends and I had very little responsibility at 18 – wake up for class, do well on exams. They have office jobs with responsibility – thus at an age where responsibility is not so quickly accepted, you have the Draft Office.

So after speaking to Matan, I am told that he will put in a request to get my army service approved from is commander, and that I should be hearing from him soon. To my delight I did in fact hear from Matan. He told me that my case had been passed on to the other guy in their office, Amos. Amos is a tricky one – I am certain that both he and Matan actually get a fair amount of work done – however, Amos is never in his office – especially not in the mornings. I went back to the office the following Sunday– a week after meeting with Matan. I waited about an hour for Amos to show up, and when he did, I discovered that my file was sitting on his desk. I’m not sure what it was waiting for, but I am certain that as everyone had told me, it was a good thing I went to the office to see what was up. Without doing so, I could have been waiting a while. I spoke with Amos about why I wanted to serve in the army (literally repeated the conversation I had with Matan a few days earlier). Amos then told me he’d be in touch with me in a few days for set my Tzav Rishon (testing day) as he had received approval for me to get drafted from his commander and now had to run it by his commanders commander.

I waited till Wednesday and then started the phone harassment. This is where you call an office and make the phone ring so much that one of the under enthusiastic girls gets up and answers the phone. For a day and a half, I had the same conversation again and again:

Girl (in slightly annoyed tone): Halo

Me: Hi can I please speak to Amos?

Girl: He isn’t in the office.

Me Do you know when he will return?

Girl: [one of two responses]:

(1) In [picks a time later] minutes/hours

(2) It’s probably better for you to just call back tomorrow.

Conclusion: No one knows where Amos is – he gets his work taken care of, but very much on his own schedule. Finally on Thursday after a day and a half of phone tag – I called him probably in excess of 20 times and missed two of his calls, we connected. He told me final approval had been granted and that my testing date was set for July 7^th. That didn’t sit well by me. I wanted this thing done ASAP. I asked him if it could be moved to sooner. He asked one the of the girls in the office (I guess they do something), and I was told to show up Monday – a true lesson in ask or you shall not receive. So there it was set, Monday June 20, 2011 would be my Tzav Rishon testing day for me to join the Israeli Army.

Third Time’s a Charm Camping

They say “the third time is a charm.” This past weekend, that saying proved true, as I finally got to go camping for Shabbat. The story starts back in September/October, when Ariel sent out an email asking if people were interested in going camping for a weekend. This was not the first time Ariel had coordinated a camping weekend, and I was really excited about it. Unfortunately, not enough others were. The weekend was called off due to lack of interest. The winter past, and again in April, Ariel sent out the “who is interested” email. This time, there was rampant interest, and I figured the plan was a certain go. Unfortunately, unseasonal rains called off our plans.

The week after the second camping trip was called off; I traveled to America for a week and then returned to Israel as a Birthright leader – touring the country with 40 awesome 22-26 year old Jewish Americans who had never been on a trip to Israel. I could write a whole blog (maybe should have) on the experience, but will instead just say that it was an unbelievable experience that strengthened my love and connection to Israel. I told Ariel that the week I returned I wanted to go camping. Although I pushed it off one week more, under Ariel’s guidance, I put together an awesome camping trip this past Shabbat.

23 of us set out to Sataf, a natural park/nice woodsy area on the outskirts of Jerusalem. We arrived Friday afternoon, and as soon as we reached the camp site, we were off to work. I started grilling dinner as others set up the campfire, collected wood, pitched tents, hung lanterns and set up the eruv (boundary that defines the area in which one can carry over Shabbat). Also see here: The Daily Show: The Thin Jew Line.

Cooking, gathering wood, setting up hammockville, and enjoying a cold one.

It was a surprisingly lot of work to set up the whole camp site, but the efforts were worthwhile. We spent Shabbat feasting on barbeque, lounging in hammocks, drinking wine, playing Monopoly Deal and Taboo, reading, discussing current events and enjoying each other’s company.

I had been wanting for some time to purchase a poyke – a large cast iron pot (think witches cauldron) which you place into a bonfire or on coals to make really yummy soup/stew, or so I had heard. Ariel sent me a deal for a poyke online, and I jumped at the chance to pick it up before camping. I was super excited for the poyke, and while I had spoken to many people about what goes into the poyke, I didn’t have an official recipe or any idea how much contents I could/should put into my poyke. If you have ever had my soups, you know that I like a hearty soup. I figured my poyke would be no different. I threw in a kilo of meat, kilo of chicken, beans, rice, barley, lentils, onions, chick peas, wine, beer, coke, garlic… it was set for glory. We even went so far as to start the fire before Shabbat to make sure the poyke got cooked in time for dinner. Unfortunately, my over ambition got the best of the pot, as I checked the stew about an hour after it was put on the fire, and the whole pot had burned. It reeked and was entirely inedible.

So there we were – less than an hour before Shabbat, and a poyke in shambles. I am not sure who had the idea to try it again, but we did just that. Although at that point all the meat had been cooked (or burned in the pot), we had other leftover ingredients. As a group, a few of us banded together to have a second go at the pot. Frumie started chopping vegis as Aviva, Jeremy, Chaim and I worked on scooping out the burnt stew and prepping the pot for a second go and re-arranging the fire to set more idea simmering conditions (we had the pot right in the fire the first time). Aviva also noted that the stew initially did not have enough liquid – a condition we made sure to fix the second time around. With a lot of monitoring and a little coaxing, the second round of poyke came out great, and we all enjoyed bowls of onion, rice, lentil, pea, potato and sweet potato soup with a slight hint of sweetness from the coke put into the pot for some extra flavor.

Second time around, the poyke was delicious

We left the camp site Saturday night after an really nice, both relaxing and tiring weekend smelling like smoke from the second bonfire we made and full of roasted marshmallows. Camping was all in all a fun time that required some planning before hand, and a lot of work to put together at the campsite. A special thanks must be given to Ariel I for helping and guiding all the planning – without her, camping would have been a jumble of “we should have brought/thought of/considered...” Ariel thought of it all. She rocks.

Sat night

The Tools of Camping