Reb Aryeh, II

Abraham Axelrod recalled: One day Reb Aryeh came to visit us in the prison camp in Latrun. It was an extremely hot day, and we had been going about dressed almost like Tarzan in the jungle. Suddenly we caught sight of Reb Aryeh approaching the camp, and we scampered to our quarters to get dressed properly, in shirts, trousers and of course, hats or kippoth. His sharp eye however, saw enough signs of our scurry and flurry, and he understood all. First he led us in minha, the afternoon prayer-service. Then he gave each and every one of us personal messages of greeting from families and dear ones. After that he began addressing us in his gentle voice that never chided:

"Today it is very hot, and you were going about dressed comfortably. If you changed your way of dressing because of me, that was not good. Perhaps my visits impose a burden on you."

Not another word did he say about it. He himself was dressed in his usual black coat and hat, and the temperature was surely higher for him than for us. And probably he would have liked to see us clothed according to his own idea of proper dress (like his own children, for example). Yet he was unique in his capacity to understand us, and he accepted us as we were. This was the very main reason why we always had such a boundless love and admiration for him.

This is taken from Simcha Raz's A Tzaddik in our Time.
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Justice for the 96

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The new Tefilat Ha'Derech

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... and on the Bus, Part VI

As I got on the bus, the driver looked at me and frowned.  "Good morning," I smiled and he responded, "I'm helping out a friend today, first time on the route - it's simple, right?"  "It's rather easy, do you want me to stay here and help you out?"  He responded positively, and off we went.  As we progressed on the route, he explained how his co-worker needed a favor and he had no time to learn the route properly.  "I was hoping someone will help, and everyone so far has been great."  I guess sometimes us Israelis don't disappoint!
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Reb Aryeh, I

Elazar Cohen's task was neither easy nor enviable when Israel was at war.  He was in charge of the helicopter squad, and he and his men had to take the helicopters continually into the range of enemy fire in order to rescue wounded soldiers.

Once he went to Reb Aryeh and asked him for a blessing - and the good rabbi refused to give it. "But why?" asked the puzzled army commander.

"Who am I to bless you?" asked Reb Aryeh "I truly believe your merit before heaven is greater than mine."

This is taken from Simcha Raz's A Tzaddik in our Time.
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My Will

A few months ago, Tals and I watched a movie called Will, a fictional story of an orphaned child who makes his way across Europe to see the Champions League final in Istanbul in 2005.  At the end of the movie, Tals commented how she now better understood the camaraderie of footy fans and hoped that I had the chance to take Nissim to Anfield one day to watch a game.

Tals' comment made me remember one of my fondest moments as a football fan.  Despite having being to Anfield to watch Liverpool last year (a dream of mine for over two decades), I still cherish the match I went to see with my father far more.  We had lived in Milan for almost two and a half years, two of which I'd spent in boarding school in England.  When I returned in the Summer of '94, my parents let me know I wouldn't be returning - we were off to New York.  My dad was in a 'footy' state of mind that summer, even watching then entire World Cup final where Italy bowed out to Brazil on penalties after the famous Roberto Baggio penalty miss.  I don't really remember all the details of how and why, but my dad and I were outside the San Siro looking for tickets for AC Milan's 1994/95 season opener against Genoa (It was also Ruud Gullit's first game back after a year away at Sampdoria).  My dad managed to get two tickets, and we were going in ...

I remember seeing the pitch for the first time ... the smell, the lights, the Milan fans at a frenzy ... it was incredible.  I don't remember most of the match unfortunately.  I do however remember pointing out Gullit to my dad, and celebrating Marco Simone's winner a few minutes into the second half ... and my favorite moments?  Seeing my dad jump up furiously every time one of Genoa's defenders fouled Dejan Savićević and screaming passionately in disgust.  That is what really sticks out.  You see, my dad was never the biggest sports fan (probably still isn't though he watches far more games nowadays), and here he was enjoying the moment with his son.  Still makes me smile till this very day ... something I'll never forget.
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... and on the Bus, Part V

I was deep into the chapter in In Ishmael’s House, which discusses Mizrachi Jewry’s interaction with Zionism during World War I, when I heard a discussion on the Tal Law taking place right in front of me. I looked up and saw two young looking Ultra-Orthodox men (No hat for those wondering – I think they may have been Shasnikim). I listened for a few seconds until my Israeliness took over.

For more, click here for my latest piece in the Times of Israel.
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804

I was aware of the many South Africans who volunteered for Machal (Volunteers from Abroad, מתנדבי חוץ לארץ) and helped Israel in the War of Independence. I was aware that despite South Africa’s small Jewish population, they remarkably constituted around 20% of the total volunteers that helped Israel during this difficult period. Although I consider myself well read in Israeli history, I was unaware of how pivotal a role they – as well as the other Machal volunteers – played in ensuring Israel would get past 1948 and become the country she is today. Considering how so few know of this story, I thought it was an excellent opportunity to learn about the subject from the mouths of those who experienced it first hand.

For more on the '804,' click here for my latest piece in the Times of Israel.
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Ladino Nostalgia

On the way home from shopping a few weeks ago, I heard Guy Zoaretz, a famous Israeli TV personality, and his brother Ro'ee discuss their first CD, Ladino and Hymn from my Father's House (לדינו ופיוט מבית אבא), on Radio Jerusalem.  Once I got home, I called Tals and told her to listen.  Within a few minutes, she called back, "They're performing in Jerusalem in June, do you want to go?"  Who could say no to that?

The concert was yesterday at Beit Avi Chai, and Tals and I had a great time.  There were about 200-250 people singing the famous Ladino romanzas & Sefardi/Mizrachi piyutim along with Zoaretz.  It was emotional for me as there was so much I related too - his attachment to his Nonnas (grandmother), bourkitas, the songs, the beit knesset (synagogue) and his strong desire to ensure all he's learned and heard is passed on to his children.  The only thing this concert was missing was the rest of the family...

After the show ended, the Zoaretz CD was on sale.  "How much does it cost?" I asked.  "40 shekels," the man responded.  "Aren't you their father?" I inquired, and he responded positively.  I smiled, and said, "You and your wife should be very proud; you've managed to pass on the traditions of your families to your sons.  I hope my wife and I are as privileged."  He smiled humbly, "Thank you, it means a lot."

Here are some clips from the show:

La Vida do por el Raki

Avre Tu Puerta Serrada

Et Sha'arei Ratzon

Morenika / Shecharchoret

Li'chvod Chemda'at Levavi

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Begin on the Intifada

מה שהם עושים לנו עכשיו יעשו לשאר העולם בעוד עשר או חמש עשרה שנים.""

This is taken from מנחם בגין דיוקנו של מנהיג
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... and on the Bus, Part IV

After a long day of work, I got onto the bus and a smiling religious Ethiopian bus driver asked how I was doing.  "Baruch Hashem (Thank God)," I answered, "and how are you rabbeinu (Our rabbi)?"  Rabbeinu is a respectful way religious Jews refer to religious scholars, those who are older than you, or those who you want to honor with the title.  The moment he heard the term, the bus driver laughed and said, "A Rabbi?  Me? Look at me, I'm just a bus driver.  You don't have to call me that."

When I sat down, I kept on thinking about that janitor story ... I had my response.  A few minutes before my bus stop, I approached the bus driver and told him, "In Pirkei Avot (6:3), it says that if you learn one thing from a person, you should treat them with honor.  It goes on to say that King David learned only two things from Ahitophel, and called him rabu (My Rabbi)."  The bus driver smiled, "Go on."  I continued, "I learned two things from you - firstly, you're smiling and greeting everyone who boards your bus, something Shammai recommends in Pirkei Avot (1:15).  Secondly, you were humble and refused the title when I called you rabbeinu."  "Hence," I said, "I should call you rabbeinu for you have taught me two things."  The bus driver smiled as he slowed down to let me off, "How about you just call me achi (my brother) or chaver (friend)?"  "I'll think about it," I answered with a smile as I got off the bus, "Have a good night."
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Begin on Unity

אמש בכיכר הזאת עמד שחקן צעיר, מה שמו? דודו? דודו, טו-פז, דודו טופז, כאן הוא אמר את הדברים הבאים, עכשיו דממה, שלא נשמע זבוב, דממה מוחלטת, שמעו: באוזני מאה אלף אנשי המערך, הוא אומר את הדברים הבאים: "הצ'חצ'חים, הם במצודת זאב, הם בקושי שי"ן גימלים, אם הם בכלל הולכים לצבא, כאן נמצאים החיילים ומפקדי היחידות הקרביות." אודה ואתוודה לפניכם, עד הבוקר לא שמעתי את המילה "הצ'חצ'חים", ולא ידעתי מה פירושה. הם קוראים לכם הצ'חצ'חים! האם זה מה שאתם?

במחתרת, בימי תנועת המרי, שאל אותי גלילי, אחרי התייעצות עם נתן ילין-מור, זכרונו לברכה, מטעם הלח"י, כשתכננו יחד פעולות נגד השלטון הבריטי, ואמר לי כהאי לישנא, גלילי, אמר לי: איך אתם פתרתם את הבעיה של עדות המזרח באצ"ל? ואני מסתכל בו בתמיהה ואומר לו: ישראל, מה אתה שואל? איזה בעיה? והוא אומר: נו, אינך יודע, לא שמעת? הבעיה של עדות המזרח. אז אני אומר לו, איזו בעיה? אין לנו! כולנו אחים, כולנו יהודים, כולנו שווים, כולנו!

עכשיו אני אספר לדודו טופז למי הוא התכוון. בני עדות המזרח שלנו היו לוחמים גיבורים, גם במחתרת ... פיינשטיין היה ממוצא אירופאי, איך קוראים לזה אשכנזי; משה ברזני היה ספרדי מעיראק. בלילה לאחר שנידונו למוות, והיו צריכים בבוקר-בבוקר להוריד אותם מן התלייה, והרב היה איש זקן, הוא אמר שיבוא להוריד אותם, ולא רצו לפגוע ברב, הם לקחו לליבותהים רימון יד, לחצו.

אשכנזים?  עיראקים?  יהודים! אחים!

This is taken from מנחם בגין דיוקנו של מנהיג
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Checking the Point, III

It's 4:20am, and I'm up on Shabbat morning.  No, the kids aren't crying - I just have to be at some checkpoint in 40 minutes.  Within a few minutes, I'm outside with all the gear waiting for the quick intro from the checkpoint's commander.  She starts talking, and all I'm thinking is, "Where are you from?"  When I get a few minutes, I take my guess, "Are you from Argentina?"  R. answers, "No, do you know the village X?"  I'm sure I've heard of it, but it can't be, "I didn't realize Druze women serve in the army."  "I'm not Druze, I'm a Christian Israeli-Arab."  This shift was going to be interesting, and probably not long enough to deal with all the questions I wanted to ask.

R. is amongst the six from her village who serve.  They're all females - the men still aren't ready to take the plunge, though she feels it's nearing.  When I asked her why she'd want to serve, "It's my country, and it's a privilege to give back."  I found myself agreeing with a lot of what R. was saying, especially with her lack of optimism about the region's chances for quiet, "We won't see peace here, until this region accepts that we're a reality."   One comment really stood out though, "If I could choose who would rule this country - Christian Arabs, Muslim Arabs or Jews - I'd take the Jews every time.  You've obviously made mistakes, but there's a desire and ability to better the country that makes me proud to be a part of it."  It was a really interesting day, and talking to her made me realize how important the army (and national service) is for this country.  I really hope our current government can take the necessary steps to ensure all Israeli citizens are obligated to give back.

***

One of the bus drivers from the previous blog seemed like the volatile type to me, so I made sure to talk to him every day when he arrived at the checkpoint to ensure there was no unnecessary headaches.  Monday morning was no different, "Good morning," I said, "You look stressed today, what's wrong?"  "Do you know how much I earn?" He asked.  I tossed out a few random numbers before he answered, "1500 NIS per month.  Do you think that's enough to provide for my family?"  That's a startling low salary, and I really wasn't sure what to say.  He continued, "I just want to work in Israel, where I can earn more, but it's not really possible."  Once again, I didn't have much of a response - another side effect of the Intifada that still impacts thousands of Palestinians today.  "I hope there's an agreement soon, our people need it."

***

A father arrived with his two children at the checkpoint a few minutes before closing time, "Can my children cross?  They're going to spend the evening with their grandparents."  I asked him to hold on as I went to ask the commander.  As I did so, I noticed the father's little boy was just staring at me.  When I came back, I let him know that within a few minutes we'd let his kids go through.  His son was still staring at me, and though I smiled and waved, I got no response.  When I opened the gate to let them through, the little boy started crying.  "Is he ok?" I asked.  "He's probably just scared," the father commented as he took his children to their grandfather.  I just looked at the kid, and felt terrible.   I made this kid cry ...

***

As we were unlocking the gates for the afternoon shift on Tuesday, we noticed something on the outer gate.  A white t-shirt.  Seemed rather innocent, until I went to get a closer look and saw it had a photo of the one and only Yasser Arafat printed on it.  I wasn't too impressed and asked one of the kids around the gate, "Did you see who put this up?"  No one had seen anything ... or who put the knife below the shirt (you can see its handle below the left side of the shirt).  A statement of intent? Mischievous kids? I guess we'll never know.

***

One of the most common statements I heard by various Palestinians is that Jews and Arabs coexisted as equals in the Arab world before 1948.  While there were many cases of coexistence between the Muslims and Jews, the Jews as a whole lived as second class citizens and struggled with the many restrictions placed upon them, not to mention the pogroms (be it the threat or actual following through) or forced conversions.  The distortion of Jewish history in the Arab world isn't the smartest way to build bridges of co-existence today.

***

One of the Palestinians that I talked to daily enjoyed sharing pearls of wisdom from the Torah.  It didn't stop there - he also loved discussing gematria, a subject I don't really know that well.  It was fun to interact with him daily, but I was curious as to how he had accrued such knowledge.  Eventually, one Palestinian explained it to me, "He spent years working in Bnei Brak."  I guess there's a reason the chachamim advised that one's children be around the sound of Torah from a young age.

***

"How's your tree nursery going?" I asked the Palestinian.  "It's doing well baruch hashem," he answered.  He was in and out of the checkpoint non-stop, moving his plants and trees all the times.  "How's your family doing?" I asked as he waited patiently.  "My wife is expecting," He shared, "We've been waiting for four years and finally, a miracle."  I smiled, I was genuinely happy for him.  "Happiness, health and peace," he said, "That's all we need, right?"

***

As he waited for his 2011 Jeep to be checked, I asked Abed where he lived, "Qalqilya Illit," he smiled.  As we struck up a conversation, he started talking about the separation barrier, "You know my friend, it will come down just like the one in Berlin came down."  "I'm not so sure it will be in our lifetime," I answered, "Both sides wanted it in Berlin, our people aren't remotely ready for that."  "If you could do it with Egypt, why not us?" He asked.  "I don't think you can call what we have with Egypt peace," I responded, "It's more like a cease fire, and let's not get into how much their street hates us."  "I still think it's possible, our people can live side by side," He responded defiantly.  "A bit of optimism can never hurt Abed," I smiled.

***

"Oh no," I said, "He's back."  One Palestinian had given us a particularly hard time.  He had lost one of his papers, and until he got a new one, couldn't come through our checkpoint.  Yet for two days, he came back and argued his point.  A few Palestinians at the checkpoint couldn't stand it already and told him what we'd repeated numerous times.  During this particular shift, he left after screaming, "You're only doing this because you hate Arabs.  Yes, you hate Arabs."  I wasn't sure how to respond, and neither was the commander.  Oh well, at least the optimism lasted a good few minutes.

***

It was a long week.  These checkpoints are draining, and testing.  One can do this job, and still remain respectful and empathetic to the Palestinians.  It's imperative the army helps soldiers - be it conscripted soldiers or reservists - adjust to the harsh realities of checkpoint life, be it through weekly discussions, or monthly seminars.  Help them understand why it's important to act the right way, even when you're unsure if you're facing a friend or foe ... Suspect and respect.  Soldiers who forget that will not only be hurting Israel, but will also be hurting themselves.
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Checking the Point, II

Another morning, another encounter with Machsom Watch. Unlike yesterday, they weren't here to provide a tour, but to monitor the checkpoint from afar. The checkpoint was opened on time, and was moving along nicely when two school buses approached. The bus drivers were next in line when one of the ladies complained, "Shouldn't you be letting them in? The children are in danger as they're playing around the road." I responded, "Once the group inside is finished ma'am, they're next in line. You're right however, the children shouldn't be playing in the road and I don't really understand why the bus drivers would leave the doors open to put the children in this kind of danger." She looked at me, and didn't utter another word. Within a few minutes, they had driven off. The check point was closed 90 minutes later as per regular procedure.

***

The check point was reopened for an hour during the early afternoon hours. Within 30 minutes, I noticed two people filming a lot of children, who were clinging onto the fence that allows cars in. I approached my friend and asked him what was happening, "They're filming us 'mistreating' the children as we can't let them in." What had happened was one of the school buses that had come in earlier had been used for a school tour, and these children were waiting at the check point for a bus that was running very late. With the children continually irritating the Palestinians on line, as well as jumping on the cars, my friend approached one of the cameramen and said, "You do realize they're only doing this, and endangering themselves, because you're filming?" He shrugged, and I started to seethe - we were becoming the 'bad guys' in a Pallywood production. I tried asking some of the Palestinians to help calm the children down, but their efforts made no difference. After twenty odd minutes of film, the two English speaking cameramen were off. Almost instantly, the children went to the area where they could sit and were silent. It was surreal. Were they asked to behave like this, or have they been taught to behave like this? I don't really know, but sadly, I know my friend and I will be on some news show in some country portrayed as cruel, soulless Nazi wannabes.

I believe the IDF can combat this phenomenon by placing cameras at every check point. This would ensure there is ample evidence of 'normal behavior' videos and 'camera assisted' behavior videos.

***

The evening shift for this check point was as usual hectic. Large groups of people were going in and out from both sides, and it was moving along smoothly. In the last few minutes, one of the girls from the Military Police wanted to test the newbie to ensure she was checking documents properly. She asked a man, who with his wife, if they could switch documents without explaining why. His face soured, and he said, "I find the suggestion disrespectful and am not up for these games." She said ok, and let him pass. When he returned to get his car, I stopped him and said, "I'm sorry we offended you earlier. We just wanted to check something out, and meant no offense whatsoever." He was in a rush, and I'm not sure if he understood what I was saying, but thanked me and went to get his car. One of the men who was next to him, a shepherd who we see every day came over, "I want to say one thing. We're not stupid - we understand why you're here, and we know it's not easy. But we're human beings, and wanted to be treated as such. Though he felt disrespected because of the misunderstanding, it is important that you tried to explain the situation and clear things up. Thank you."

Check points continually place soldiers in difficult situations. Most are well aware of the positive and negative implications of their presence, and that ensures we handle our responsibilities at a high level. Though following the rules, as we did earlier with the school children for example, is imperative and can come off as 'harsh' and 'unnecessary,' we must still remain empathetic and sensitive to the population we're dealing with.  Whether it's chabdehu ve'chashdehu (respect and suspect) or keeping children away from a checkpoint for a certain period of time, respect and common decency don't take much effort and may even have an overall positive influence on those we interact with.
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Fighting Intelligently

At a checkpoint today, a guided tour of some sort arrived as we opened the gates.  While other soldiers went to their posts, I just sat watching 20-30 individuals (mostly tourists it seems) take photos and film us as we prepared to allow Palestinians in.  Curiosity got the best of me, and I eventually approached one of the participants, "Who is leading the tour?"  She responded in broken English that it was too hot to think, but those few words allowed me to hear her strong French accent.  Though my vocabulary is rather poor, I still am confident enough to hold a conversation in French and proceeded to ask her the same question in French.  "Machsom Watch," she answered as she showed me their pamphlet.

I decided it was an opportunity to talk (me?!?!), and with her tour guide going on in English about "the approaching hell of the Palestinians entering the check point," a few more of the French speakers came to listen to me.  "One has to be careful with groups that have a strong political agenda," I explained, "They'll always slant a story accordingly."  The conversation lasted a good ten minutes, but by the time I had finished giving a different angle, there were two groups - one listening to me, and one to the tour guide.  After my tour had stopped, I helped an old man through the gate and wished him a good evening.  I heard the other tour guide say, "This is a good soldier.  He greeted the man and told him good evening."  I just hope my message has given those who listened a different angle, and desire to hear the whole story, not just the one Machsom Watch puts out.

On that note, I think the IDF would be wise to give one day seminars how 'we' should behave with these tours.  Let the soldiers understand how important of a role their mouths can play in this conflict - be respectful, talk to them, explain your stance and present them a side of the conflict they may have ignored until now.  If done well, maybe - just maybe, a positive impact of some sort can be made.

***
Mosquitoes are killing me.  I've never had so many bite marks in my life - 21 on my face alone.

***
It's ironic seeing an older Palestinian man walking through the check point wearing a Likud hat.
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64 for 64

Israel turns 64 today.  What an amazing ride it's been so far for Israel since David Ben Gurion made his famous speech on May 14th, 1948.  In honor of this milestone, I'd like to share 64 things I love about Israel in no particular order.  The '64' will include historical events, sporting events, food, our famous personalities and personal milestones.  May the list keep on growing forever ...

Batter up ...

1.  Did I mention Ben Gurion's famous speech?

2.  Humus and Madbucha - Nothing beats these dips on a fresh pita. 

3.  Menachem Begin's speech after the Altalena, "We shall continue to love the people of Israel, and we shall continue to fight for the people of Israel...Help me to persuade my people that it is forbidden for brother to raise a hand against brother, that it is forbidden that a Hebrew weapon be used against Hebrew fighters."  Simple words that saved a country from civil war.

4.  Itzar Zohar and the Alphabeta winning Israel's first Eurovision title in 1978 with "A-Ba-Ni-Bi"

5.  Rain.  In a country that so desperately needs rain, it's a blessing when it happens.

6.  The quiet that transcends as Erev Shabbat approaches in Jerusalem, or most Israeli cities for that matter.

7.  Ha'Tikvah, Israel's national anthem.  Goose bumps every time I hear it sung, "We still haven't lost our hope."

8.  Talking to the older generation, the ones who knew a world without Israel, or Europe before and during the Holocaust, or the Arab world before the Mizrachi Nakba, or Israel during the highs and lows of the last 64 years.

9.  Yossi Benayoun scoring the winner in the Bernabeu to lead Liverpool to a 1-0 win over Real Madrid in the first Champions League game between the European giants.

10.  Yom Ha'Zikaron (Memorial Day).  Remembering the many brave men and women who gave up their lives for this country.

11.  Eli Cohen.  History's greatest spy.

12.  A Tzedaka box in almost every store you go to.

13.  Sallah Shabati, with a starring role from Chaim Topol, is nominated for an Oscar and wins a Golden Globe award.

14.  Naomi Shemer, Israel's famous lyricist.

15.  Tal Brody and Macabbi Tel Aviv with the 1977 European Cup Championship, the first major international sports championship for Israel.  "We are on the map!"

16.  Ilan Ramon z'l, Israel's first astronaut.

17.  Gal Fridman.  Israel's first gold medal winner (2004 Atlanta Olympics).

18.  Nature ... From North to Center to South, just a stunningly beautiful country.

19.  Falafel!

20.  Miluim (IDF reserve duty).  Only the Israeli man really understands this, and his once a year, or maybe more, friends!

21.  Russian? or Amharic? or French? or Yiddish? or Spanish? or Arabic? or English? What language can't you hear while walking around?

22.  The Buses ... a window into life in Israel.  I, II, III.

23.  The return of Ethiopian Jewry.  Incredible.

24.  Reuven Atar stuns France in the 92nd minute with the winner in a 3-2 classic.

25.  Machane Yehuda, Jerusalem's open air shuk.  The smells, the sounds ... It's great.

26.  Start Up Nation.  If you don't get it, read the book.  If you don't have time, read this.

27.  Yom Ha'Atzmaout (Independence Day).  Such a 180 straight after Yom Ha'Zikaron ... An explosion of happiness, time with family, a good mangal and if you're lucky, no foam!

28.  Ben Gurion's take on living in Israel, "In Israel, in order to be a realist you must believe in miracles."

29.  The Raid on Entebbe ... one of those miracle.  A few good articles can be read here, or here, or here.

30.  R' Ovadia Yosef, Gadol Ha'Dor.

31.  Ofra Haza, the singer with an  angel's voice.  My favorite song?  Shecharchoret (Morenika in Hebrew).

32.  The Kotel.  Are words really necessary?

33.  The Dead Sea.  Best place for a floating vacation.

34.  IDF.  The army that protects this special land.

35.  Beit Ticho.  The lovely restaurant off Jaffa Street (J-town) where I proposed to Talya.

36.  My two tzabars, Nissim and Keren.

37.  Hebrew.  Seen and spoken throughout, the language of our revival.

38.  Shwarma ... in a laffa ... for 15 NIS.

39.  Yom Kippur.  It's amazing how the whole country shuts down for Judaism's holiest day.

40.  The Weather.  Mild winters and warm summers (well, sometimes boiling hot but who's complaining?)

41.  The excitement generated by Natan Sharansky's arrival in Israel.

42.  Nachal Yehudia.  My favorite nature trail in the country.

43.  Bamba and Bissili - two great snacks

44.  Israeli folk dancing (when done well!).

45.  Having random people say 'Shabbat Shalom' to you in the street on Shabbat.

46.  The "we-ness" of this country ... If only we had it more often.

47.  Yehoram Gaon, probably my favorite Israeli singer.  His songs, be it the beautiful Zionist songs or Ladino classics, are great.

48.  Me'arat Ha'Machpela (The Cave of the Patriarchs).  Putting aside the politics of the place, it's always an incredibly powerful and spiritual experience when one visits.

49.  Subliminal, Zionist hip hop at its best.  Honorable mention to Shi 360.

50.  The national obsession with the level of the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee).

51.  Camel Crossing signs in the Negev

52.  Gadi Ezra's letter to his fiancee, a letter she opened after he was killed in Jenin during Operation Defensive Shield.  For more on Gadi and the others who fought in Jenin, A Psalm in Jenin is the book to read.

53.  People who turn up to a 7pm chuppah at 8pm are still early.

54.  Cheap Avocados!

55.  Climbing Masada in the early hours of the morning to see the sun rise over the Dead Sea.

56.  Abba Eban, one of Israel's most gifted orators.  A man who explained our position to the world with grace and humility, and always knew how to see the ironic side of the conflict, "If Algeria introduced a resolution declaring that the earth was flat and that Israel had flattened it, it would pass by a vote of 164 to 13 with 26 abstentions."

57.  Shoko be'sakit (Chocolate milk in a bag).  Is there anywhere else this treat is available?

58.  Travel.  Is there a country (outside the obvious ones in the Middle East) you've been to where you've not run into Israelis?  We're everywhere!  ;)

59.  Zohar Argov, the King.

60.  Seeing the Israeli flag proudly displayed on balconies, windows and cars in the weeks leading up to Yom Ha'Atzmaout.

61.  The heated and enlightening political (and religious) debates one finds himself having all the time, regardless of time and place.  I guess that's why Golda Meir told Charles De Gaulle in the 70s, "Can you imagine how difficult it is to lead a country that has three million Prime Ministers?"  Imagine Bibi always dealing with six!  :)

62.  Menachem Begin Heritage Center, the place to learn about a towering figure in Israeli history.

63.  Landing in David Ben Gurion airport ... Home.  It's a wonderful feeling.

64.  Remembering the passion and love you had for the country when you were like the dreamy eyed Olim Chadashim (new immigrants) you're talking to ... and realizing that passion and love is as strong as ever.
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I remember

One of the sad stories of the Independence War (and the early years of the State) was the many soldiers who died 'alone'.  These soldiers had come from the ashes of Europe, and were the lone remaining branch of their family trees.  With their deaths, their family lines ended, and there was sadly no one to remember these unfortunate souls.  Last year, My Israel put a plan into action where Israelis would go to the graves of these soldiers and honor their tremendous sacrifice for the State of Israel.  This year, I had the privilege of being a part of this tremendous initiative.

We had 5 grave to visit at Har Herzl.  The routine at each grave was short and to the point: we read Tehillim (Psalms), said Kaddish, read the biography of the person and then said El Maleh Rachamim.  I was deeply moved by these stories.  Bustling lives in Poland, or Romania, or Czechoslovakia straight to the horrors of the Holocaust, and being left alone in this world.  They had nothing left to live for ... except the dream and hope of building Israel.  That is what pushed each one of these boys to the Mandate, and to the Army to ensure this country survived.  That's where these stories ends unfortunately.  Their blood would sadly become part of the roots that allowed this tree to grow into what it is today. 

So I had a chance to remember them ... To thank them ... To cry for them ... To pray that their sacrifices, and those of the 20,000+ Israelis who've died to make this dream a reality, will never be forgotten ... Yizkor ... May your dear memories forever be blessed.
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Repercussions

The below as taken from Rabbi Meir Matzliah Melamed's (z'l) commentary on Pirkei Avot:

Rabbi Shimon [bar Yochai] described the famous solidarity of the Jews in the following parable: In a boat full of passengers, one of them began to drill a hole in the bottom that was beneath where he was seated.  The other passengers exclaimed, "What are you doing?"  He answered, "What is it to you? I am drilling in my own space." The other passengers replied, "It is true that it is in your own place, but when the water begins to enter the boat, we, too, will drown." In like manner, when a Jew does wrong, this has repercussions on all Jews.

I thought this was relevant in light of events in Israel over the past 10 days.
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חג כשר ושמח / Chag Sameach!

h/t Denis Kassel
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Freedom

The word for freedom in Hebrew is חרות.

There is an interesting teaching that says that חרות is an acronym for the Four Sons that are mentioned in the Pessach seder.

ח is for חכם, the smart son
ר is for רשע, the evil son
ו is for וזה שאינו יודע לשאול, the son who doesn't know how to ask
ת is for תם, the timid son.

One way of looking at this is that all four sons are viewed as a composite. We are all deeper than we may first appear, and judging a person based on one conversation, or meeting, may leave us with misconceptions and stereotypes. Perhaps freedom is when one adjusts his ability to judge the book on more than just the cover ... I se'ed djuzgan a todo ombre a parte beuna (Judge every person favorably, Pirkei Avot א:ו).
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