It's Always Sunny in Beit She'an: November 2012

The problem with keeping a blog is that when too many things happen at once, I don't know how to turn it into a few comprehensible paragraphs. The only solution I could think of was to divide the events of the past two weeks into three different subcategories - bikinis, togas, and uniforms - and hope that you, my dear readers, have the patience to read through it all or at least to read it one section at a time.

Bikinis

If you've ever decided to join the Israeli army, you know that it's a rite of passage into a very loud, very pushy society of Israeli adults. Like any rite of passage, it deserves something ceremonial to mark our emergence into a new chapter of life. To celebrate our giyyus – our draft - my Garin took a five-hour bus ride down to Eilat, and spent the end of October and beginning of November on a beach.

Along the way to Eilat, we stopped at the Dead Sea, Ein Gedi, and the Red Canyon. It was nice to get a change of scenery after being stuck on kibbutz for three months. The four days we spent in Eilat took place mainly in the water, hence the title of this subcategory. The first night, we ate dinner on a yacht, enjoying a variety of nautical-themed decorations and Mediterranean-themed food. The next day, we went on a beautiful hike before spending hours snorkeling in the Red Sea and working on our tans. As a quick side-note, it’s worth mentioning that we showered maybe once for the duration of this trip, as swimming all day, every day gives the illusion of cleanliness. The rest of the trip included water sports and swimming, shopping and swimming, eating and swimming (of course, we waited an hour in between), and more shopping and swimming. As we floated weightless in the water, it was as if we were in an alternate reality where we had no responsibilities, no draft dates, no army service ahead of us. Our trip to Eilat was the ideal – albeit, brief – escape from reality.

On our third and last night, my whole Garin headed over to The Three Monkeys Pub for a toast to our giyyus. It was a lively pub, though the average age may have been a few decades older than us, and the band’s covers of classic rock songs had us all in a dancing mood. One fearless girl from my Garin sashayed onto the wooden floor and began to dance. One by one, the members of my Garin decided to ignore the oppressive heat and the curious eyes of onlookers and join her on the dance floor. Gradually, other patrons of the pub rose to join us until the entire floor was filled with people grooving to the beats of an English cover band. For me, the word “magical” comes to mind as I remember seeing all of my closest friends put all of their apprehension for the future into the most sincere dance moves you could ever imagine. Forget whatever may come, it was a night of pure happiness.

Togas

If you've ever joined the Israeli army, you know that the pride of serving your country is often accompanied by a dreading suspicion that you’ve signed away your life. Remember that freedom I gained a few short months ago, on my 18^th birthday? Well, let’s hope I didn’t get too used to it. I fear that as soon as I draft, I will lose my individuality in the wake of commands and punishments. As a gift from the leaders of our group, our four-day trip to Eilat gave way to a 10-day free weekend. What better way to take advantage of our freedom than to camp all around the country for 10 days? On Monday morning, two friends and I set out on camping trip, equipped with one backpack each, a tent, and two sets of clothing. As we left our kibbutz, the following conversation ensued:

“I’m really excited to go camping, but we should take a real trip one day.”

“Yeah, like somewhere out of the country. Somewhere cool.”

“But when could we go? I don’t want to wait until after the army.”

“When could we do it before the army? My draft date could be as soon as two weeks from now.”

“So it would need to be sometime in the next two weeks.”

“Yeah, like next week.”

“Or today.”

“…”

“Today?”

“Do you guys want to just go today?”

“Go where?”

“I don’t know, just somewhere.”

“Yeah, let’s go today! We can totally do it.”

“Are we really doing this? We’re going to leave the country today?”

We turned around to get our passports, and that’s how I ended up in Greece with one backpack, a tent, and two sets of clothing.

When we got to the airport and asked the woman at ticket sales what the cheapest ticket was for that same day, her answer (which she gave with a distinctly suspicious look in her eye) was either Prague or Greece. Since we assumed that Prague would be cold – and because Hercules is my third favorite movie ever – we bought our ticket, and an hour later, we were on the plane to a new kind of Holy Land.

We landed in Athens and went straight to a very warm, very homey youth hostel. Not having had any time for preparation, my friends (Batya and Malkaya) and I were at a loss of what to do now that we had landed in a foreign country. Luckily, the owner of the hostel had some time off from his side import/export business, and, feeling bad for these three crazy Israeli girls who came to Greece without a plan, took it upon himself to show us all of the “must-see” places in Athens. Our first day, we went to an over-look of the entire city. Over the course of the next three days, we visited the Parthenon, various churches and monasteries, the acropolis, many mountaintops, and quite a few frozen yogurt stores. In-keeping with our theme of unadulterated freedom, we spent a lot of our time doing nothing. At the over-looks, we sat and talked. Next to the Parthenon, we snuggled and talked. At the site of a 1000-year-old monastery, we watched Hercules and talked. Though it was exciting being in a new country, none of us wanted the kind of vacation where your days are packed and you feel exhausted by the end. Instead, we simply enjoyed ourselves.

Thursday night, we took a ferry to Hania, a city in Crete. Instead of sleeping during the incredibly long boat ride, I read and watched Hercules, so by the time we arrived in Hania at 6o’clock in the morning on Friday, we were pooped. To remedy that, we found a plateau with an incredible view of the sea, wrapped ourselves in the small, blue El Al blankets, and my friends fell asleep as I read them the history of Hercules from my new book on Greek mythology. We slept for a few hours before wandering around Hania and finding an adorable and inexpensive hotel right on the sea. We also got to feel the extent of the love in our Garin when Adir, one of the sweetest people I know, called to wish us a Shabbat Shalom and make sure all was well. When the innkeeper (a term I doubt has been used in the last few decades but seems fitting for the elderly man who owned our 2-room hotel) discovered that we were Israeli, he proudly brought us a letter written in Hebrew from previous visitors, praising his hospitality. He then pointed out a small synagogue less than a minute-walk away. And thus, we did Kabbalat Shabbat, the Friday night service welcoming in the Sabbath, in the tiniest synagogue in Greece.

Sunday morning, we felt guilty that we had spent so much time being lazy, and so we boarded a bus to Rythemno. In Rythemno, we walked along a path that led to a beautiful fortress. After a few hours there, we headed back to Hania and caught a ferry to Athens. Arriving once again at 6o’clock in the morning on Monday, we replaced our plateau with a sidewalk in front of a bank, and slept for a few more hours. Luckily, I have photo evidence of all our lounging about. I’ve posted some pictures here, but if you want more, I’ve posted an album on Facebook, titled “The Land of Hercules.” Anyway, we spent the rest of the day just enjoying Athens, including – you guessed it – watching Hercules and eating frozen yogurt. We then drove to the airport and, with heavy hearts and heavy bags, rejoined reality.

Uniforms

If you've ever joined the Israeli army, you know that nothing is efficient. One day you get a letter with a draft date, the next day, you're told that the draft date is obsolete and please report to the drafting center tomorrow. Everything is always up in the air. Things became more concrete, however, as I watched the first member of my Garin draft. On an almost daily basis, my friends are receiving news from the army that decides their fate for the next two years. At risk of sounding like a grandmother, I am so proud of my friends. One of them just got accepted to the Tzanchanim (paratroopers), another to Golani, another to Handasa Kravi, and yet another to Nachal. My very own roommate, Batya, is going to be an instructor in Shiryon – tanks. It’s a little scary knowing that the girl who gets silly with me at 4 o’clock in the morning is going to be teaching soldiers to drive and operate tanks, but I know she’s more than capable. I myself do officially (kind of) have a job in the army. I have no idea what it’s called, what it means, or when it drafts, but there IS something in store for me. I’m sorry I don’t have any more details for you, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do.

Also under the heading of “Uniforms” comes the news from Israel that I’m sure you’ve all been hearing. Words like “rockets” and “Hamas” fly around and warnings about traveling to the south of Israel come often. Being on a kibbutz, I’m rather sheltered from current events, but I can say that I am safe, as is everyone I know. When I made Aliyah, I knew that events like this were going to be somewhat inevitable. It’s scary that my friends and I will be in the army while this is happening, but none of us came to Israel to serve when it’s easy. I promise I’ll post blog entries more often and keep everyone in the loop about what’s happening over here. For now, keep Israel and her soldiers in your hearts and prayers.