יוסי בישראל

The Israeli Paratroopers or Tzanhanim have always been a brigade that I admired in the Israel Defense Forces. They were created in 1955 to be an elite infantry airborne force, led by their first commander and future Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon. The brigade was used in an airborne assault during the 1956 Suez Crisis and is also famous for uniting Jerusalem during the 1967 Six Day War.

To date, Tzanhanim is the only infantry brigade that holds a two-day tryout or gibush for all potential recruits. After not being able to attend Yom Sayerot, it was very important for me to attend the gibush.

I arrived at the base, Tel HaShomer, where the gibush would take place at 8:00am in the morning. For most of the day, we handled logistical issues, such as medical checks, paperwork, and splitting up into groups for sleeping.

At about 4:00pm we began the “Bar-Or Test”, that is a two kilometer run as fast as you can. However, this was no normal two kilometer run, it was up and down hills, in sand at some points, and in a four to five meter lane for all forty of us in my group. I was by no means in first place during the run, but I was in the first third of the pack. I usually run two kilometers in about 7:50, but this one I can estimate I scored about 8:20 due to it not being on a normal terrain.

After my run, they sent us to the cafeteria where I was dying to eat dinner, since I had pecked at my lunch out of fear that I’d throw up while running the Bar-Or. It was the best hot dogs and beans I have ever eaten. After dinner (8:00pm), we were introduced to our new groups that we would be in for the morning part of the gibush and notified that wake up was to be at 3:30am. I’m assuming that they based these groups off of our two kilometer times.

At 3:30am we woke up and met with our commanders or mifakdim that would be running our gibush and writing comments about us, whom were about five or six reserve soldiers aged from twenty-five to forty years old. We were each given a number which would be our name for the day, a sand bag to carry, and I also volunteered to carry a jerry can of water on my back to the field where we would begin the day’s activities.

When we got down to the field, we were told to put two sand bags down about fifty meters away from us. Our mifaked lined our group of forty into threes, which meant our running lane was about ten to twelve meters wide. Our mifaked yelled that we were going to run around the two sand bags and without warning called tzeh! or go! After a few sprints, our mifakdim notified us that they would now be marking down who arrived in the first five places and the last five places in order to track statistics. I had placed in the first five about three or four times, but I was also trapped in the back of the pack making it impossible to pass twice, leaving me in the last five as well.

After about thirty minutes of sprinting with no breaks our mifaked told us to each grab a sand bag and hold it above our heads. Every time someone dropped it, he added another minute, by the time we finished I am guessing we held them above our heads for ten minutes.

Our mifaked then split us into two groups to argue pros and cons about reality television. I was in the pro group and right away volunteered my reasons and took initiative to find out other’s reasons. After deciding on seven pros with my group, I also volunteered to present our reasons to all forty guys and our mifakdim, which was very hard because I am by no means fluent in Hebrew.

After our debate ended, our mifaked told everyone to roll down their sleeves and pick up another sand bag above our heads, but this time for much shorter. He then told us we would begin crawling to the sand bags we sprinted to, so everyone crouched to their knees and on his mark we would began. The field we were crawling on was desert with rocks, thorns, and I even found pieces of glass while crawling… it was not pleasant. He had us crawl there once, then there and back, then there and back a third time. For the first two, I scored in first place, which also earned me a spot to begin from the farthest spot with the most thorns and rocks. The last crawl I was in the back of the pack due to exhaustion and whacking my elbow on some big rocks.

He then told us to get back on the line again in threes. We began sprinting for another thirty minutes, except this time the first four to make it to the line would carry a stretcher with weight for their second sprint. I didn’t make it in the first four for any of these sprints, but I made sure to always push myself as hard as possible, always making it in the first half of the pack.

Then we were told to make a map of Israel using anything we could find on the ground. I again made sure to input my leadership skills and assure that the southern region and borders were set well, they asked for another presenter, but it was time for someone else to volunteer.

We were then given shovels and told that there was about to be an attack by an enemy, use the sand bags and shovels to make fox holes. At all times there also needed to be three people holding sand bags over their heads. We did this for about thirty minutes, I asked those holding sand bags if they needed a rotation, but every time they said, “no.” I dug for half the time and placed sand bags around our fox holes for the other half, I always was moving and keeping busy. At the end of the thirty minutes our mifaked yelled, “RIMON" or "GRENADE", and obviously we had to jump for cover in our fox holes.

We were then brought to a pull up bar area and told to hold on until our arms gave out with our eyes shut, opening our eyes would disqualify us. We did this about three times, I remember my arms shaking between this and sand bag holds, but I held out as long as possible. I wasn’t the first to let go, but I definitely was not the last.

Our last exercise we were told to pick up most of our stuff and put it onto a truck, leaving us with a stretcher with seven sand bags and a jerry can. We set out for a masa or a hike, with one person holding a jerry can and four underneath the stretcher. Every once and a while our commander would begin to run, which meant those carrying the stretcher also had to run. I carried the stretcher twice during the masa, which lasted about an hour. Even at times that I wasn’t under the stretcher, I was right behind those carrying it, encouraging them that it would end soon and to drive through.

Finally after finishing the masa, the physical part of the gibush ended. We were told to shower and prepare for interviews. I was prepped by friends on the questions that the interviewers would ask me, but to my surprise none of those questions were asked. Instead, they asked me why I made aliyah at twenty two, why I want combat, about my time being president of AEPi, and about my plans after the army.

After leaving Tel HaShomer, my nerves began to get the best of me. I was nervous I hadn’t been in first place enough or that my number was called for bad reasons too often. However, I have had much time to think about what they’re looking for during the gibush.

In my opinion, they’re not always looking for the best athlete that gets first place in every activity. They’re looking for the person that gives it their all, even if they’re huffing and puffing while sprinting. You can be in last place every time, but continue to fight through your thoughts of quitting, they’re looking for the mentally tough. Anyone can be physically built up, no one can be mentally built up. So for those reading this post for their future gibush, don’t worry specifically about places, just give it your one hundred and ten percent, and they will see how badly you want Tzanhanim.

All Israelis attend their “tzav rishon” or first notice with the army during their senior year of high school, almost a year before their draft. My tzav rishon however, was at the age of 21 with about two months before my draft date.

Tzav rishon is known to be a dreadful experience plagued with numerous hours of waiting, testing, and interviewing in order for the army to get to know about you as a person to eventually place you into a suitable position.

My tzav rishon went by relatively easy, minus some bureaucratic issues. I scored high enough on my Hebrew test to be exempt from the army ulpan (language course). I earned an 82 medical profile, which is high enough to do any position. However, the doctor told me that I needed to be checked out by an eye specialist, due to a laser surgery I had as a child and all would be good with my profile so that I could attend Yom Sayerot (first round of tryouts for the highest commando units).

After being checked out by a specialist that confirmed my eye was completely healthy, I expected that my profile would be closed and that I would be receiving an invite to Yom Sayerot. However, Israeli bureaucracy is not so easy, they had added an asterisk to my profile signifying that I could not attend just one week before Yom Sayerot.

After six days of arguing with army representatives over my profile, nothing had changed, and they told me that I had no chance of a profile change. I was not going to take no as an answer, so I did what I have read about the army numerous times and searched out any personal-connection I had to the army offices dealing with drafting.

At 2:00am on my last day to change anything, I finally found a contact that told me I needed to take the first bus to Tel Aviv and come in person demanding an appointment to the guards at the gate. I hopped on a bus at 4:00am and arrived to the drafting office at 8:30am. After some arguing with the guards and phone calls to my contact, I was allowed into the building. In the office I was sent around for a few hours, told to go to this room and that room, to wait here and there for twenty minutes at a time.

Finally, my name was called again by a man that told me to approach his office, and he said that nothing could be done with my profile. I gave him a stern look and said that I was not leaving until my asterisk was removed. He went into his office for ten minutes and returned again saying I had no chance, because I needed a full doctor’s check up that had no time to be completed. I stated once more that I was not leaving his door until they removed my asterisk; again he went into the office and in five minutes returned, but this time told me that my profile had been fixed.

It’s been a long time since my last blog post and almost a month since I arrived in Israel.  I forced myself to sit down and actually write down a blog post regardless of my busy schedule in the absorption process and dealing with army bureaucracy.  This post is going to strictly cover the absorption process and later posts will deal with my army interactions.

My first interaction with the absorption process was my aliyah (immigration) flight, which is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  My flight was chartered solely for olim (immigrants) of all ages from seniors, families, and 125 young people my age joining the IDF.  It was covered on every news station throughout the entire country from prepping for the big move to landing.  I myself spoke on a radio talk show and my roommate from college, Aaron Finkelstein, was covered in a whole story on prime-time news.

There is one aspect of the flight that I must cover in this blog post, the landing; it was by far the most moving experience that has ever occurred to me.  As we began our descent one-hour before landing, music and cheering roared throughout the cabin.  When our wheels touched down onto the runway, I felt chills shoot down my body.  I finally landed in Eretz Yisrael (the land of Israel) fulfilling my ancestors’ age-old dream of returning to our ancestral homeland.  As I walked down the staircase of the plane toward the terminal, the very first thing I did was drop to my knees and kiss the ground, as immigrants did as they jumped off boats during the establishment of the state.

After landing in Israel, we had multiple ceremonies congratulating us on our decision to immigrate to Israel and welcoming us.  From there, I took a bus to my new home, Kibbutz Holit.

The Jewish people are currently in our three-week mourning period commemorating the many misfortunes that have been inflicted upon us, known as bein ha-metzarim, ending today with the fast-day of Tisha b’Av, marking the destruction of the Second Temple and many other calamities. 

The Talmud clearly states that the reason for the fall of our Temple was due to baseless hatred and a lack of unity among the Jewish people.  After reading headlines from the past two weeks about multiple incidents of violence and libel within the Jewish community in Israel, I am positive that if we had a Temple today, God would destroy it too.

The number continues to rise of ultra-orthodox soldiers that are being attacked by their own in an ultra-orthodox neighborhood, standing today at three.  And yet again, another Shas leader has made a controversial statement suggesting that National Religious Jews, whom are Torah observant, are not Jews at all.

It is abhorrent that men that consider themselves to be the most “pious” and “religious” Jews have carried out each of these incidents during our weeks of mourning, because they obviously did not learn the basic lesson that the Talmud attempted to teach us.  That lesson being that baseless hatred and a lack of unity will be the downfall of Israel, whether it is by an act of God or by man. 

We should not make the same mistakes that our forefathers made during the time of the Temple and blame the entire ultra-orthodox community for the actions of a few crazies.

In two weeks I will be departing for my last of four preparation seminars with my program for aliyah called Garin Tzabar, translated to English as a sabra seed.  I joined the program in January along with a group of twenty-eight others that are moving to Israel and joining the Israel Defense Forces.  In order to understand the program and how it works, it's vital to understand the plant (the sabra) that it's named after.

My Garin

When someone refers to a person as a sabra, they are speaking about a Jew that was born in Israel.  Sabras are known to be prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside.  The prickliness on the outside is symbolic of the Zionist "new Jew" that doesn't take sh*t from anyone; as opposed to the "old Jew" that allowed himself to be locked into ghettos and subsequently resisted fighting back.  The sweetness of the sabra is symbolic in that when you look beyond the prickly skin, there is a sweet and caring person on the inside.

So looking through my romantic lens, Garin Tzabar is planting myself and my twenty-eight other garin-members as sabra seeds in Israel to sprout, so that one day we can grow into full fledged sabras.

Kibbutz Holit (Yes it's only 4km away from Gaza and 8km away from Egypt)

My clock is winding down in America. I only have three months left until I make my journey to Israel.  For those of you that are not up-to-date, I’ll catch you up. 

After my graduation from the University of Arizona, I'll be immigrating to Israel, known in Hebrew as making ‘aliyah’.  As a part of the aliyah process, I'm drafted to the Israel Defense Forces like all Israelis are upon their eighteenth birthday.  This blog is going to cover my experiences and journey during my new life in Israel.

So why would some American kid with a bachelors degree at twenty-two years of age decide to go to Israel and join a virtually unpaid military?  An even better question I get from diaspora Israelis is, “We are trying to leave Israel, and you’re trying to go there. Why are you giving up the potentially prosperous life you could have in America?”

After having several opportunities to answer these questions, I realized that it's not a simple answer.  After giving it some thought over time, I've been able to narrow my answer down to three different reasons.

Reason #1: Jewish right for self-defense

My first reason comes out of a trip to Poland followed by Israel that I embarked on at sixteen years old.  I studied the Holocaust, but I could never imagine the magnitude of the destruction done to the Jewish people without seeing the camps for myself.  Departing from Poland and landing in Israel was the first time I truly realized the purpose of the State of Israel.  That flight, I travelled from the Jewish people’s all-time low to all-time high, seeing that the State of Israel is a body of empowerment for the Jewish people.   Israel allows us to defend ourselves, rather than relying on the protection from other nations, which has failed for over two thousand years.

Reason #2: Being a part of my nation

Contrary to common belief in some of the liberal and ultra-orthodox streams of Judaism in the U.S., I don't believe that being Jewish is only a religious identification.  Being a Jew isn't synonymous to being a Christian or a Scientologist.  I believe that being a Jew isn't only religious and cultural, but it's also our nationality.  Prior to Israel's establishment, Jews living in Eastern Europe and the Middle East were never defined as being a part of their respective nations, they always felt and were treated as a nation within a nation.  Our ancestors prayed everyday for 2,000 years to be returned to Israel to reestablish our nation with Jerusalem as its capital, so I am fulfilling that dream.  

Reason #3: Jewish continuity

Immigrating to Israel ensures that my children, my children’s children, and so on, will remain Jewish.  The intermarriage rate in America is over 50% at the current moment and with my generation it is only going up, these are statistical facts.  While intermarriage does not always mean assimilation, there is no argument that it is more likely.  And don't get me wrong, a child born to two Jewish parents can just as easily assimilate, and Israel has an answer for that too.  Regardless of if a person is ultra-orthodox, traditional, or secular, being Jewish in Israel surrounds you; assimilation is no longer an issue. The State of Israel runs on the Jewish calendar, the everyday language is Hebrew, the weekends run according to the Sabbath, and other Jews constantly surround you.  Thus, you can be a pork eating, Sabbath driving, and a Yom Kippur barbecuing Jew; and your kids will most likely remain Jewish, because the society is Jewish.