Yom HaZicharon and Yom Ha'Atzmaout

Going back to work was, as usual, a ton of fun – it’s always nice to feel missed, and 32 five year olds will certainly do a good job of saying hello after a three-week absence. After break, things soon fell into their business-as-usual routine. After our work week ended on Thursday, a few of us from my apartment decided to head over to Be’er Sheva for the evening. I had told Ava and her friends that I would meet her at a club there that night, so after going over and hanging out at the Nativ apartments for a little a whole group of us headed out to “The Forum.” It was a pretty big, pretty crazy dance club, and there were so many people there that I ended up only seeing Ava for a little. But all the Nativ kids stuck together and we had a really good time just dancing with each other.

The Shabbat following Pesach break I had really wanted to go away but couldn’t find anywhere to go, which was the same situation as four of my other roommates, so the five of us ended up just spending Shabbat in Yerucham. Becky’s younger brother, who is in Israel on a high school program for a few months, came with a friend for the weekend, as did Misha’s cousin Raya (the one I’m constantly staying with in Jerusalem), so we had a very full house. On Friday night a few of us went to an Indian shul – there’s actually a pretty large Jewish Indian population in Yerucham – where there was a really beautiful service. Following that, most of the people who were in town for the weekend were meeting for dinner at the girls’ house, so I headed over there for a lovely Shabbat meal. There were about twenty of us there – this weekend had originally been scheduled as a closed Shabbat and then changed last minute, which is perhaps why there were so many people in Yerucham. And although I had wanted to go away, sometimes it’s really nice to just have a relaxed Shabbat at home, especially when there are so many people around for company. The following day, for Saturday lunch, Kesha and I went to my gannenet’s house – Etie, not the one that had us over for Pesach. Etie lives in a really cute house with her daughter and two of her grandkids – one of whom is in Sarah’s gan and one of whom is one of the nicest most adorable little girls I’ve ever met. Lunch was really nice, although it was quite a challenge with mine and Kesha’s limited Hebrew. But Etie’s grandson, Nachman, asked us a lot of simple questions that luckily we were able to answer. Etie is Moroccan, so the food was delicious, and I spent the latter half of the meal with her granddaughter, Malka, on my lap, drinking tea while she played with my hair. It was a great meal and I had a lot of fun, and I was really glad that I got a chance to go over there for a meal before I leave Yerucham – especially since Etie invited me at least once a week.

That week, the week following Yom HaShoah, brought two very different, back to back holidays: Yom HaZicharon and Yom Ha’Atzmaout. Yom HaZicharon is Israel’s Memorial Day, but it couldn’t be more different than Memorial Day in America. There’s no 3 day weekend or big sales. Yom HaZicharon is absolutely the most difficult day of the year for Israeli society – described by our director Yossi as “An open wound in the heart of Israel.” Those we are remembering aren’t long-gone soldiers from the days of WWII – they’re bright eyed kids my age who were killed in battle recently, and whose peers continue to fight and die in the never-ending struggle that is the existence of the state of Israel. This is a day when parents mourn their lost children and children mourn their lost friends. Monday night was ushered in with another two minutes of silence sounded by a siren all over the country, and then we had a small service, just Nativ, outside in Yerucham. We saw pictures of all the fallen soldiers who were from Yerucham, and Nativers read poems and stories. We also heard from Eyal and Elkana, our Israeli staff who have served in the army. The Israeli mindset continues to amaze me, for many reasons, but especially just because it’s so far removed from the American mindset. Here, people just know how to prioritize. Nobody takes the land and the homes that we have here for granted, because our youth is still fighting and dying for it, all the time. In Israel, people know how to celebrate life, and to fight for what’s really worth fighting for. When I was in Arad, I met a kid my age who has been in the army for a few months now. And we had a conversation about how much he hates it – about how he hates waking up, and running miles, and always being cold and never sleeping and only going home once every three weeks. And yet he chooses to be in that combat unit, when he could easily be doing a desk job because of his asthma, a job that would let him go home every weekend and would be much less physically grueling. But even though he’s totally miserable and hates it so much, he still chooses to be in the combat unit, because he really believes what he’s fighting for – and that kind of overpowering belief that would compel someone to do something that makes them completely miserable is just so foreign to me as an American teenager. And hearing from our staff, they all say the same thing – that you hate the army while you’re in it, but when you’re finished you’re just so unbelievably proud and you know that with your unit is where you belong.

For the next day, all of Nativ went together to Jerusalem and in the morning we all met at Har Hertzel, the national cemetery of Israel’s fallen soldiers. It was absolutely swarming with people – like Disneyland on the 4th of July or something. It’s a really huge and slightly confusing cemetery as is, so it was pretty overwhelming with all those people there. At the front entrance they give out water bottles and flowers for everyone to lay on the graves. Ashley, Emily and I just walked around and each tried to find a grave without any other flowers on it in an attempt to salvage some meaning out of the confusion around us. There was also a ceremony there that morning with another siren-moment of silence. Even though it was hard for me to find it meaningful, I was still really glad to be there that day with thousands of other Israelis. After the cemetery we all went back to Agron for lunch, and after lunch we had some programming. Our main part of the program was hearing the mother of Michael Levin speak. Michael Levin is a kid who was very much in my Jewish circle – he went to Ramah Day Camp and was on Nativ before he made Aaliyah and joined the Israeli Army. My female staff, Ariel, was even friends with him at camp. In the Second Lebanon War in the summer of 2006, he was killed while on a mission. His story is a very sad, very moving one that is well known within the USY/Ramah camp circle. The part that always gets to me the most is that when his parents flew to Israel for his funeral, they were concerned that they wouldn’t have a minyan (the group of ten Jews necessary to perform services such as a funeral) since they didn’t know anyone in Israel. When they arrived at the cemetery that day, they were really upset to see thousands of people there because it meant that there were a bunch of funerals going on that day. They soon found out, however, that all of those people were there for Michael’s funeral – he had simply touched that many lives during his short time in Israel. Hearing from his mom was difficult, but Michael’s story is a really important one and we were lucky to have the opportunity to speak with her.

One of the most interesting things about Yom HaZicharon is what happens at sundown on that day, as the holiday transitions from that day of mourning to Yom Ha’Atzmaout – Israel’s independence day. The entire mood of the country shifts radically from one of sorrow to one of the utmost celebration and joy. Nativ was free for the holiday, so I decided to stay in Jerusalem at Misha’s cousin’s apartment. A handful of us went to services together at a beautiful shul located, like many in Jerusalem, in an underground bomb shelter. The whole shul was decked out in blue and white decorations for the holiday, and the service is possible the most fun service I’ve ever been to – tons of singing, dancing, and instruments, with everyone just generally celebrating and having a good time. By the time we emerged from the underground synagogue the city around us had gone from day to night and totally transformed. The roads downtown were blocked off by buses parked horizontally across the street and every few blocks huge stages were set up for the concerts that would start taking place in a few hours. The whole city was in festival mode, with street vendors everywhere, music playing from anywhere, and people in droves swarming around. We went to a sushi dinner (delicious as usual) and emerged an hour later to begin drinking as much as the rest of the city. The whole night was a complete blur of dancing in the streets to concerts that were set up in the middle of the road, running around, buying and eating cotton candy, and just generally enjoying the ruckus.

The next day we woke up around noon and moseyed over to the park across from Agron, where Nativ was having a barbeque, since that’s the traditional Israeli activity for Yom Ha’Atzmaout day. It was gorgeous weather, so we all just spent the day laying out and enjoying a real barbeque along with all the other Israelis in the park who were doing the same exact thing as us.

I really think that when I look back on my year in Israel, these three holidays, Yom HaShoah, Yom HaZicharon, and Yom Ha’Atzmaout will be something I remember the most. It was one of the times where I felt like I got the true Israeli experience, and it’s definitely unlike anything I’ve ever felt in America.