More on the MDA course

MDA COURSE

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When I first got here, I was so surprised at how diverse our group was.  As an American, I’ve never really been a minority in that sense, but here I am.  We had students from Brazil, Venezuela, Guatemala, England, Holland, Australia, and Hungary.  We all have at least a basic understanding of Hebrew and English, but after that it differs.  We’re all between the ages of 17 and mid twenties.

            We started off learning basic by-stander CPR without equipment, then learned with the equipment.  We learned team and solo, and mevoogar, yeled, v’tynook (adult, child, and infant).  That night we had situational practice with our crazy instructor afterwards.

            The second day we learned more CPR details and practiced our skills, but soon moved on to more complicated treatments scenarios.  We were taught about respiratory distress, syncope, CVA, diabetes, hypo- and hyper-glycaemia, and many other things.  That night, Danel took us for a run (well, some of us ran…), and then we had some group bonding afterwards.

            Today (Wednesday 14 12 11) we are learning about the cardiovascular system and problems that can occur with it, but we stopped class early when we got the chance to go see a Natan ambulance.  We played around with the equipment and took pictures for a while, and then it was time for lunch.

            A word about our instructors: they’re crazy.  But really intelligent.  We have two.  One is an Israeli-bred guy, Danel, who has the weirdest accents.  In the same lesson we’ll hear a very deep Israeli accent, a perfectly normal American accent (with even a Southern twang, sometimes), and everything in between.  Our other instructor is an Aussie who frequently travels.   While the Israeli, Danel, takes us for a run late at night, Ben, the Aussie, will invite us to yoga in the morning and make fun of the British girl’s accent.  They’ve both been working with MDA for a very long time and they both know all the in’s and out’s of everything.  They can answer almost every question we have, and if they can’t, they find out right away.

            The class itself is a lot of fun, too.  It is a very intense, fast-paced class, and I love it.  We’ll do a slideshow and learn everything about everything that has to do with electrocution, watch videos of actual electrocution occurrences, and then practice dealing with a hypothetical electrocution situation.  We’re also learning much more Hebrew as it is incorporated into the class as we move on. 

            Our off-time, also, is just as interesting as the classes.  The area we’re in is sort of a dead zone in Jerusalem, but we can see hills and forests and there is a zoo nearby.  There’s a group of hundreds of teenage girls here, however, and there’s not a moment that goes by, whether it’s 3am or 3pm, that we cannot hear them yelling somewhere.  As much as we complain to their director, they just won’t be quieter!  Despite that, a good aspect of Beit Yehuda is the food.  Every meal is loaded with amazing food, and every lunch and dinner has a very chocolaty dessert afterwards.

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            The class was amazing.  Really, it was.  Everything, from the lessons to the practice to just hanging out with the group was perfect.  I made such good friends in a short time, and I really miss them all already.  We tried to study together, but it was hard because we just kept laughing.  We eventually had to separate ourselves into different rooms to actually get some studying done.  In our off time, we watched movies, learned Krav Maga, worked out, danced, sang, did ‘girly’ things, and just had so much fun together.  We spent so much time together that we have multitudes of inside jokes and we all know each other pretty well.  At the Beit Yehuda guesthouse, where we stayed, we ate rice every single day for both lunch and dinner, and had the chocolate cake or white creamy stuff afterwards.

            During the course, the stress piled on until test day, when we were all hysterically worried.  We took a written test and then had three practical tests (CPR, PHTLS and back boarding, and vital signs with dressing wounds and stabilizing fractures).  After we tested, our evil instructors made us wait what seemed like an eternity until we found out our results, but I passed!!!  We spent our last night and day together relishing the relaxation and reminiscing.  Two other girls and I made a slideshow of the class that we showed at the end, which had everyone laughing.  We stayed up late talking, and had a very emotional goodbye when we all split up this morning.  We already have plans to see each other soon, though.

            Tonight, however, I need to get some sleep (after our Hanukkah party, of course.  Dreidels with ‘pey’ instead of ‘shin’), because my very first shift is tomorrow afternoon!  Chag Sameach l’kulam!

Newly Certified First Responder for Magen David Adom!

I took the 60 hour MDA course and passed!  My first shift on a MDA Lavan Ambulance is tomorrow at 3pm!  Chag Sameach!
I'll write more if I ever manage to catch up on sleep...

Also, the picture is of my instructor Danel, my Aussie friend Gabi, and me.

Who's a big girl now?

There was a time in my life when I got lost driving home from work.  Today, however, I navigated a Shirut ride, a train ride, two bus rides, and a long walk, all without a single problem.  Look, mom, I really am growing up!

Our Crazy Kehilah

There are nine of us living in a small flat here, all between the ages of 18 and 20.  We come from all over the USA, Spain, and Germany.  You could not imagine a more diverse group; we have everyone from the rapper wanna-be from Cincinnati to the maternal intellectual to the crazy German to the Barca obsessed Spaniards.  We have different ideologies, different opinions, different privileges, and totally different personalities.  Not two people are from the same place, and we all live such different lives.
However, we're a family.  We support each other.  We fight with each other.  We throw chocolate at each other.  We laugh with each other.  These eight other people, who I didn't even know three months ago, are my family.  They know me and I know them.  We all know our little quirks and our big quirks, and we know what to say and do when someone's feeling down.  We know how to defuse situations and fight constructively now.  If any of us needs something, there's someone we can go to.  We have traditions and habits and inside jokes.
We realized that we've finally hit that point where we're officially bonded irreversibly.  We Karmielniks, we're a family.  You can hate your family or love your family, but they're always your family.  When we go away, we know we'll have something to come home to and someone to miss.  Even if we split up, we'll always remember that one chocolate fight, or the fight at the club, or the game at the pub, or all the soccer games, or getting lost on the way to soccer, or getting lost during Closed Shabbat, or the ridiculous discussion during Closed Shabbat, or Jeff telling lame jokes, or looking up lame jokes online, or ALWAYS being online, or ALWAYS playing music, or fighting over what music to play, or fighting over milk and chocolate.
Tomorrow I leave for ten days, and it's going to be so different.  I haven't spent for than two days away from any of these people since we met, and now I won't see them for over a week.  What am I going to do without Becca being my mommy?  How am I going to figure out what to wear without Noa's closet? Whose music will I have to overplay if Jeff's not there?  Who is going to challenge me to soccer contests without Ariel with me?  If Naomi doesn't ask me how my day was because she actually cares, who will?  If Alyson is gone, whose crazy outfits am I going to laugh at?  Who am I going to help find stuff without Jake losing his things?  Who is going to shout, "nein nein nein!" if Dan's not here?
Just imagining being without my family is mind-blowing.  My crazy Karmiel kehilah!

Reflections on Diaspora Judaism versus Israeli Judaism

This is my first time in Israel, and being an American Reform Jew, I’ve heard a lot about the culture here.  Good and bad, from NFTY in Israel participants, community members, random strangers, various rabbis, and lots of other people.  As controversial as the topic of Israel is today, everyone seems to have an opinion, not only of the politics, but the culture as well.  For example, I knew to watch out for the yogurt (it’s delicious, but not as healthy as it seems).  Some things don’t surprise me, like the superior quality of the falafels.  One thing in particular, however, did surprise me.

            During an interview I had before the program, I was asked questions about what makes a person Jewish.  I thought about Jewish identity and all the topics youth movements love, but eventually I ended up talking about things like regularly attending Kabbalat Shabbat services and observing holidays at temple with the community, among others.  When I came to Israel, I expected it to be the norm to attend services and that everyone would be a bar/bat mitzvah.  I was so wrong.  Here, the question is: do you keep Shabbat?  From what I’ve experienced, attending Shabbat services does not “count.”  Yes, I drive on Shabbat, I text and go online and if I have homework, I’ll do it on Shabbat.  I also don’t keep kosher, which surprises most Israelis.  But the things we do or consider “Jewish” are completely different.

            Last Friday, I went to my host family’s house for dinner.  They said the prayers for the wine and hallah before eating, but didn’t attend services.  They didn’t do any of the traditional prayers or traditions, but they spent the whole evening together, not in front of the TV, but just being together.  Their version of Shabbat is one hundred percent reversed from mine back home.  I would go to Shabbat services at my temple, either with a few family members or alone, and then go home, usually eating again with a few members or alone.  Shabbat is no different than any other night at our house, whether that’s because of my parent’s jobs or our schedules or society or our Jewish community or something else entirely, I don’t know.  I do know that this is the way I acknowledge and celebrate Shabbat.

            So which version is the ‘more Jewish’ way?  Which one is better for Jews?

            When they were asking me about how I lived ‘Jewishly’ at home, it came up that I had a bat mitzvah, which astounded them.  My host sister didn’t have one, and they were impressed that I actually studied and went through the whole process despite being a girl.  It was also surprising for them that my parents are in an inter-religious marriage, which is normal, if not more common, where I am from.  So many things that we each considered ‘normal Judaism’ were challenged by the other’s way of life.

            Today, we had a class with a woman who grew up in Israel and leads youth programs here, but has also spent considerable time in other countries.  She asked us what our first Jewish memories were.  I thought of Friday night services with my family, going out to ice cream after, and then begging my parents to carry me in from the car because I was too tired to walk.  I thought of loathing Sunday School because I had to wake up early on a weekend, but forgetting all about that and loving it while I was there.

            The woman, Hila, grew up in Israel and lived a Jewish life from birth.  Her first ‘Jewish’ memory is from when she was 23 years old.  How can you live and grow up in Israel without having a Jewish experience?  We watched a YouTube clip of a man who was born in South Africa and moved to Israel when he graduated high school.  He was on a kibbutz raising pigs and asked, “how is raising pigs Jewish?”  Someone answered him, “You’re in Israel, you don’t need to be Jewish anymore.”

            In some ways, this is true.  You don’t have to, ‘be,’ Jewish, you just are.  Whether you want to or not, you’ll end up keeping Shabbat much more than anywhere else.  Schools close early on Fridays, buses don’t run, stores close.  It is extremely difficult to find a restaurant that is not kosher.  A non-Jew here might be considered ‘more Jewish’ than a Diaspora Jew somewhere else, just because of the societal norms he or she is forced to practice.

            On the other hand, does having to make a conscious choice to apply something make it more meaningful?  I think that this is the basis for a lot of Reform Judaism: choice through education.  I choose to not work on Shabbat versus school letting out early for everyone.  Someone can choose to keep kosher rather than just eating what is fed to him or her, thankful that it happens to be kosher.  This raises a lot of questions.  First, would an Israeli who moved somewhere else still practice the same traditions that were handed to them before?  Would they do more, less, or stay the same?  Does it mean more that an entire country acts as a community, choosing the same beliefs and traditions, or that an individual chooses it for himself or herself?  Because I choose to attend Shabbat services, does that make me more Jewish than someone whose family forces them to go?  Does choosing to work on Shabbat make me less Jewish than someone whose work does not operate on Shabbat?

            And, on this line of thought, what makes something more or less Jewish?  I had to actively try to be Jewish.  It was not easy.  I was a teenager and I was different; I celebrated different holidays than everyone else, missed school and crucial social events, I was asked, “do you speak Jewish?” more times than I can count, and I’ve been made fun of and I’ve been the butt of vicious jokes.  I had to get in my car and drive to services and Sunday School and Hebrew School and holiday celebrations and youth group meetings.  It wasn’t just down the street; it required a serious time commitment (a half an hour drive both to and from).  It was hard.  It meant devotion and passion.  Being Jewish, whatever your definition, in America is not just something that happens, you have to actively work for it.

            In Israel, however, Jewish-ness is hard to avoid.  Even if you tried, you couldn’t completely hide from it.  You can either live like everyone else, Jewishly, or you can actively try not to conform.

            So which is better?  Which way is more preferable for the future of Judaism?  Does it differ by sect?  Should it?  Which way is more Jewish than the other way?  Can you be more Jewish than someone else?  Whose decision is it?  Mine?  Yours?  The person in question’s?  The Prime Minister’s?  G-d’s?  How do we, as a religion, a people, a family, and a kehilah kedosha, choose?

            The easy answer is to pick one or the other.  But let’s face it, even if we do, not much will change.  Obviously the places with higher concentrated amounts of Jews will create a societal norm for others to end up following later on, and the ones in smaller populations will end up paving their own original path over and over again.

            Another answer would be to make an honest effort to create a worldwide balance between the two.  This might even be more difficult, because it requires a universal agreement on what needs to be observed and what is optional.  Of course, some would argue that all are required and some would argue that all is optional.

            The third answer is to leave it as it is.  Let geography and local society choose.  My community decided for me what I did and did not have to do.  By chance, I ended up having to do a lot more to ‘be Jewish’ than the average Israeli, who ended up living a more ‘traditional Jewish life’ than I did.

            So really, there is no solution.  There might not even be a problem.  But it does affect my life and my friend’s lives and the lives of Jews everywhere, whether they live in Germany or Spain or Argentina or Ecuador or USA or Israel.  And we can choose to segregate and discriminate each other based on what we see, or we can embrace the differences and learn from each other.  Personally, I hope we choose to use this as an opportunity to bring us together.  We may be different, but we can still accept and respect one another.  In the YouTube video about the South African man who moved to Israel and raised pigs, the man tells a short tale of just before he left for Israel.  His dad woke him up and said, “good-bye!”  He asked, “Where are you going, dad?”  And his dad replied, “I’m not going anywhere, you are.”  So he asked, “Well, dad, where am I going?”  The answer his dad gave him was this: “You’re a Jewish youth and there’s a Jewish state over there.  Get going.”  Well, I’m a Jewish youth, and here’s a Jewish state.  Let’s see what I make happen.

Pictures of the Karmiel group!

 These are two pictures of our Karmiel group.  One picture is of us on our couch with our coordinator, Galit.  The other is us in a green house at an agricultural farm.  For the couch picture, from left to right it's Alyson (USA), Jake (USA), Jeff (USA), Naomi (USA), me (USA), Ariel (Spain), Noa (Spain), Dan (Germany), Becca (USA), and Galit our coordinator (Karmiel)!  The garden picture, from left to right, is Alyson, Jeff, Dan, Jake, Becca, Noa, Dan, Naomi, and me!  Come visit us!

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In a few days, it will be Two Months since I arrived in Israel (Hodshayim, as I learned today!).  So much has happened, and it's hard to believe we're so far into the program already.  We're settling nicely into life in Karmiel, even as I prepare to leave for the MDA course in a few days.  I still love working with the kids, I love the classes we're taking, I love learning Hebrew, and I love the place.  The nine of us decided on our, 'family roles,' last night.  We have a grandfather, a mom, a crazy Spanish aunt, an uncle(?), an older sister, two bickering twins (I'm one of them), a preteen sister, and a little brother.  Then we had dinner and a small chocolate food fight; I'm sure pictures will be online soon.  Stereotypically, our mom (Becca W.) cleaned up after us.
A few of us have started a Saw marathon, which does nothing to help our lack of sleep that we typically get.  It's actually pretty terrifying walking around the pitch-black flat after watching one of those movies, especially if the boys are deliberately trying to scare us.
I discovered a trail that starts on one side of our little mountain, goes through a park/forest, down the side of the mountain, and wraps up the other side.  To be fair, Ariel helped me find it when he got us lost on the way to soccer practice one time, but I followed it and it's a really nice trail.  We've also found the best pizza place and the best shnitzel place and the best ice cream place, which does nothing for our waistlines.  We've heard that everybody gains weight on Shnat and it's no use trying not to, but we all still have our hopes.  Hopes that are fading, however, as we learn that our gym passes are being delayed over and over again.
It's really amazing.  Everything is amazing.  From discussions about Israeli Jewry versus Diaspora Jewry (which is so interesting, it might warrant a whole other blog post), to missing the bus to soccer practice, to, 'who used my toothbrush?!' it's just all so amazing.  We're a family that lives and loves and fights and argues and shops and talks and plays together, and we're also a piece of the Karmiel community.  We have to fight the battles of public transport and budgets but also get to relish in the kehilah that gives us numerous invitations to Shabbat dinners around town.  There are a mall, two parks, numerous sports fields, shops, food places, bus stops, and so much more within walking distance of our flat.  And our flat has become a frequent visiting place for other youth groups we've made connections with.
But it's also hard.  I get to point out the planes to the three year olds and show them how to run around with their arms spread wide making, 'whoosh,' noises, but how and when do you explain to them that those are army planes, practicing to defend the country from an attack, which is an ever-present threat here?  Do we stay out of the Kfar for fear of harassment, or go to experience the so-called best humuus place in the north, a place that is owned by a friend of a friend whom we trust very well?  As teenagers on a budget, we tend to ignore the, 'on a budget,' part, and shop relentlessly, but then have to decide whether to order pizza for dinner or go to Ultrasound next weekend, do both, or do neither.  But whatever we choose, it's our decision.  We have to live with the rewards or consequences, and then use them to make our subsequent decisions.  I love it.  I love it all!