Purgatory

The Dover Tzahal Tag

After basic, I was given a slip of paper to report to the Bakoum. For those who don’t remember, that’s the enlistment center where I spent my first day. What was supposed to happen was that I was suppose to see an assignment officer (or Kzin Miyun) and get my assignment and be off.

I ended up meeting up with my friend David from tironut (basic) on the way there. This was good because I never would have found the way on my own. Once I arrived I saw a few more faces I recognized from tironut which was nice. I had a wait ahead of me, which all in all was not too bad. There was a television, a covered area, and plentiful food- definitely better than guard duty. My wait only ended up being about 4 hours or so.

I was finally called in, and started to get nervous. This is the guy who was going to (finally) decide what I was doing. They said go in and tell him everything you need to say because you will only see him once, which definitely added some more pressure. I went in, and tried to sputter out in Hebrew everything I needed to say. How I was a lone soldier and volunteer, about all my skills, how I wanted to be in the journalism unit, how I was making a very hard decision. I think I got about halfway through before he stopped me and told me there was no way at all he could send me to Dover Tzahal (the Spokesman Unit). I thought that was the end of it, but he said he’d double check and sent me outside.

101 Things I Learned in Basic Training

1. Bread is an excellent napkin.

2. Toilet paper is not nearly as optional as the army would have you believe.

3. Gun oil never comes off your hands.

4. Gun oil on your hands helps you remember your gun.

5. You actually can take all joy out of food.

6. Exactly how much spit the average soldier produces.

7. I can’t sing Middle-Eastern music well.

8. No one can really sing Middle-Eastern music will.

9. The kind of car you own is important to assholes everywhere, not just in Jersey.

10. There are no curses that are entirely out of bounds in Hebrew.

Meet the Guys Pt. 2

Clowns, Clowns with guns.

So I kept a really simple journal over these past two weeks. I thought it would be a good idea, with just some simple notes on each day I could better recount stuff when I had time to write it down. And it’s not that it was a bad idea, I just found that what came out was kind of dry. The things I ended up remembering the best were the people, not what happened. I didn’t really need to take notes on the friends I made to remember them.

The best times were the down times, the Hebrew lessons in between the real lessons, the joking around, the cigarette breaks. (Sorry Mom, I didn’t smoke all that much, just when it was offered, it was kind of a camaraderie thing.) For those guys a break really isn’t a break without a cigarette. Even when it’s pouring rain, 10 minutes with a cigarette under a shitty open tent with a bunch of guys, commiserating, sharing pictures of current and ex girlfriends, telling dirty stories- saying anything really is what I’ll remember best.

Basic – The Homestretch

Sorry Ma

Sorry these posts are getting a bit long, lot of stuff happens!

Although the first two weeks were somewhat of a cake walk, these last two weeks were trying. My friend Maoz may have put it best: Nothing here is all that challenging or difficult, it is simply the endless repetition and senseless redundancy that wears you down.

I checked the weather report before heading for the morning train on Sunday- it bode very poorly. Rain. Rain all fucking week. While this is normally a blessing in Israel, it was scaring the shit out of me, cause all I could think about was our torn and tattered 30+ year old tents. Somehow I didn’t believe that they would hold up, or that I would hold up. I was already feeling sniffly since Friday.

Basic Training – Week 1

So after giving you guys my impressions, I figured I’d hit you with a little day to day to fill you in on what it’s like out here.

The first day (after a weird night of sleeping in a freezing tent with people I didn’t know) was bizarre. We started learning the ropes. We had a lot of what they call opening conversations, where the different commanders of the unit introduced themselves all the way up, giving you their army background, their expectations, and their pet peeves.

We also had interviews with all the different commanders. Most of the company had interviews up to platoon commander (the first officer), but for some reason me and the other American kept moving up the chain up to the company commander. It might have been because we were lonely soldiers or because we had high Kabah scores (Kabah is your mental and psychological quality assessment, it’s based on testing and interviews in your army process and takes into account upbringing and background, it’s a strong factor for acceptance into a lot of the selective army units). The thing was meeting all the commanders was interesting, although it was the same questions over and over again. They are all surprised that I am here, that I came alone or even came at all. I can’t tell whether it’s because of their low expectations of Americans, the fact that all they do all day is deal with 18 year olds who don’t want to be there, or because what I’m doing is harder than I realize. Either way, it’s nice to be appreciated off the bat.

Meet the Guys (and Girls)

I figured I’d take some time to introduce you guys to my unit. I’m gonna try to keep it vague so as not to offend anyone or get in trouble, so here goes.

The commanders of the unit make up a weird reality show-ish cast of characters. I’m not sure how much I can get away with saying here (god forbid they read it) but I’ll try. There’s the sweetheart, the foxy hard-ass who loves guns, the drill seargentess who breaks and laughs constantly (then makes up for it by running us all over the place), and the abusive father I’ve never had. The last seems to have really taken an interest in making sure I get the “army experience.” I’m usually one of three guys actually running and doing everything properly (to the best of my ability), but the guy still picks out every tiny minor mistake I make. It’s ridiculous, I find myself fighting for his approval at times; I have to remind myself constantly that he’s 2 years younger than me, and probably a regular guy on the weekends.

I love my platoon, it’s the greatest mix of guys. Maybe I’m stuck in a little infatuation, but even the ones who don’t want to be there are just downright good guys. It’s an amazing mix of all Israel has to offer. There are a few Druze, who are hilarious and speak this bizarrely beautiful blend of Arabic and Hebrew. There are the Ethiopians, who are so good-hearted, but just don’t understand the army culture – the result is incredibly funny exchanges with the commanders which usually end up with very unjust punishment. Everyone sticks out in a funny way from the russians, to the Arseim (the israeli equivalent of the guido, loves Mizrahi music, fast cars, gold chains, and generally being loud). There is another American, a 26 year-old with a masters degree, who is great to have around. He’s an excellent break from most of the guys because I can have a real conversation with him unencumbered by my language handicap.

Basic Training – Impressions

Getting off of the bus at night was probably the biggest shock. I was herded into our first formation, and basically ran formations in time for an hour or two. I was introduced to our actual commanders, who proceded to yell at and threaten us for a good hour straight before we even put our bags down. Only after I put some stuff down did I begin to take in my surroundings.

The base I’m at is called Machaneh Shmonim. It’s an old, old base- a relic from the British occupation. I sleep in yellowed, torn tents at least 30 years old, all clearly demarcated by a US ARMY stamp. The whole place looks a little run down, with frayed roads and barbed wire fences littered with clothes and shoes. But it’s set in an absolutely beautiful area on the hillside town of Pardes-Chana, which overlooks Ceasaria. The air is clean and the view is spectacular. The base is full of Eucalyptus trees and on break I often find myself marveling at just how beautiful it is. I’m not on break often, but when I am it’s helpful to sit back and come back to myself a bit.

The First Day

Fuck-ups galore. All of the criticism I’ve heard about the army being nonsensical and inefficient were totally validated on my first day here. It was a long day, and emotional roller coaster of falling through the cracks.

The first fuck-up of the day came when I had to wake up at 5:30 so I could drive to Jerusalem only to hop on a bus back to Tel Aviv. There was a screw up in my first Army testing assignment, and I was placed in Jerusalem even though it was two hours from where I lived and I gave them a secondary address in Tel Aviv. This meant that no matter how hard I tried, my enlistment was in Jerusalem. Either way, I spent the car ride trying to close my eyes and grab some sleep for what I knew was going to be a long day. Didn’t work.

When I got there I was still coasting on a very labored sense of calm. I looked around and realized that most of the people who were there to enlist were not speaking Hebrew. As I listened closer I started to realize that the enlistment date seemed to be for new immigrants and people in my machal program (volunteers from abroad). I calmed down a bit, realizing I’d probably have a chance to be with other Americans, at least for the first part of basic. I said good bye to my dad and hopped on the bus.

High Holidays and the Normal Life

I’ve kind of slid into a routine here, work during the week with nearly no time to relax, then nothing much on the weekend with all too much time to relax. Like anything, it has its ups and it’s downs. It’s nice to finally feel like I have a life here though- it’s not perfect yet, there are a lot of things I still would like to change or fix. However, seeing as this is all a transitional period before I start Army anyway, I feel like I’ve reached a good stable spot to start from.

It’s the start of the high holy days out here in Israel. I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family which is really nice. My hebrew has improved to the point where I can interact with people better. Especially all the kids, they all used to kind of be afraid of me (with good reason, what little child likes the solemn giant booming crazy gibberish) but now they’ve all kind of taken to me. I can’t say I really understand it, but every cousin I have under 7 or so has decided I’m their new personal play thing. I’ve never considered myself good with kids, but I guess when you have the linguistic capacity of a small child, you reach a certain level of understanding. So lots of kids, kids and dogs actually- All the dogs here really like me too. I won’t venture to speculate the reasons.

Now this is how I picture Rosh Hashana, very misleading

Holidays are also kind of weird here. See, the work week is very different here. People work Sunday to Thursday, and sometimes a half day on friday. Basically the work week revolves around Shabbat (Saturday, jewish holy day). But on Shabbat, everything closes down: public transportation, most stores, supermarkets – basically everything but bars and restaurants. The Holidays are exactly the same way. While half the country stays in entirely, spending time with family, the other half goes out and parties like crazy. I guess it makes sense, if the whole world has the day off why not get crazy drunk. But it’s not quite the classic portrait of Jewish Holidays. As my friend Mike Molina put it, you generally picture bearded fellows staring stoically at each other over Gefiltte fish. 

Tzav Rishon

This is what the army looks like

So I’ve had my Tzav Rishon (click here if you don’t remember what that is) and I gotta say it was kind of a trippy experience.

First off, I’ve literally heard two things from people about the army since I came here. One, it’s hard and it sucks. Two, it may be the single most inefficient system on planet. With that in mind, I was told to expect Tzav Rishon to be incredibly frustrating and take all day. I’m lucky I had my Ipad full of Superman comics. The day started bad cause I had to wake up at 5:30am to make the bus to Jerusalem. That was the first fuck up because I should have been assigned to Tel Aviv, Jerusalem is two hours away from me.