A Very Basic Training

Before I started my compulsory service in the Israeli Defence Force I got a facebook message from a friend saying “be safe, and moral”.

Two things ran through my mind in reading this statement.

Firstly, that my friend thinks that the army is like a sausage factory, where things go in alive, whole, free thinking, and come out as phallic objects filled with filth, snout and entrails.

Secondly, that my friend has enough respect to think of me as moral prior to enlisting, but not enough faith in me to avoid influence of the ‘rape, pillage, and burn’ mentality they supposedly teach there.

It’s possible that she confused the Israeli Army with a band of drunken Vikings. It is also possible that I am blowing her well-wishes out of proportion.

This is not a political blog so I am not going to go into what I do and do not think about the army. Instead I want to share my experience.

I recently finished basic training ‘02’, the second most basic training of the army. The training is for soldiers who will not be anywhere near combat during their service.

We learnt a bit of self-defence, how to shoot, learnt a little history, first aid, how to put on gas masks in the event of chemical warfare from our friendly neighbours, and how to wait.

Waiting is a skill I think I mastered in the month basic training.

The number crunch of the month:

50 sit ups

70 push ups

45 bullets shot

5 km of running

15km of walking

5.7 hours of sleep/night

12 showers

350 shekels earnt

And 212 hours of standing

At the end of the service, you are offered three jobs; fixing the wheels on tanks, fixing radios used in the war with Vietnam, or driving a truck. What great opportunities for my comrades, some of which have two physics degrees, some wuth aeronautical engineering degrees, many spoke more than 3 languages fluently including Arabic, some had officer training in the Russian army. 

Your humble narrator was offered a job in the Education Core creating lessons aimed to strengthen the Jewish and Zionist identity of people in the army on the condition that he sign on another 6 months.

A short sob-story about being alone in the world and a sick dog got me out of signing more time. I am happy to be starting a job I am most probably passionate about and isn’t going to melt my mind anymore that basic training has.

As a reflection on the whole experience we say in the army “היה טוב, אבל טוב שהיה” “it was good, but it’s good that it was”. I made some great friends and the experience cleared up a lot of the concerns I had concerning the army.

The Army

I struggle through my final push up and complete my punishment, but I'm still laughing. My commander opened the floor for us to share headlines we had read in the paper that day, Wanting to lighten the mood from articles about iran's nuclear program advancing and rockets hitting the south of Israel from Gaza, I tell the group about Macey Gray regretting her trip here. The commander askes me to explain who she is so i enter into my best rendition of here one hit. ''I try to say goodbye and I choke, try to walk away but I stumble...'' the soldiers and the commander laugh and I get punished. No singing in the army.

So far the army has not been worth the anguish I was feeling before I drafted. It's oddly a lot like summer camps. The commanders are like the camp councilors and I'm once again a participant.

The people in my unit are aged between 23 and 30 and for all of us Hebrew is our second or third language. It's hillarious at times, because when we get an order to run somewhere, most of us either dont listen or dont understand, so we end up running off like a herd of confused wilderbeast.

We get less than 6 hours of sleep every night, but our productivity in the 18 hours we're awake is nowhere near what we could be achieving. In the 14 hours at the shooting range, only a quarter of our group got to shoot 6 bullets.

There is an internal logic in the army that changes every couple of seconds with each of the commanders, making it incredibley hard to be a good soldier even if I wanted to be. I get told to eat from one commander, then get asked by another why I'm eating by another. This gets intensley frustrating.

I'm enjoying the comradery between the group, we jel over our united hatred for the officers.

The food Isn't so bad, even for vegetarians.

We're sleeping in tents on a base left by the British so the piping is a bit old and so there is always a pungent smell of human waste.

There are probably two main goals for this training. The first in to intergate us into Israeli society. And the second is to turn us into obedient soldiers, you cant scratch your ass without permission. They give you too little time to run somewhere to teach you ask for more time. The is probably the most difficult thing to cope with in my unit seeing as we're all used to being o independent.

Personally, I'm not hating it here. Some things are fun. I'm learning Amharit from the ethiopeans and learning to swear with zeal from the russians.

Let's Talk About Sects

Orthodox Shabbat services in Jerusalem have become all too dry for my liking. The endless mechanic recitation of psalms and piyutim makes me feel like a devout Christian ordered to say a thousand Hail Marys until he is absolved.

I live in Jerusalem so the variety of places of worship are by no means limited. So recently I’ve taken myself shule-shopping, it is fitting as this week we read the section of the Torah where God commands Abram to leave his comfort zone.

I don’t have a top 10 list as yet, but I have experience based reactions.

The first, is ‘Raz’ minyan, in the heart of nest of the hairy hippy organic cotton wearing suburb of Nachlaot you will find a small room with a mauve vibe turned into a shule. The minyan is for those who like to sing and is only recommended if you are in the mood. I have a friend who used to take a book and get through a good chunk of it during the service. The community is dedicated, there is a gender separation, and the Rabbi who leads the service sometimes creates the tune to the prayers as he goes along.

A favourite of mine is the infamous Shira Chadasha of who the Melbourne minyan of the same name is based.

Here you can feel an educated orthodox community who have struggled with Halakha and have found a way to make room for a solid female role in the service. They try to have a 10 and 10 minyan (men and women). They have great after-service treats and the singing is very spiritual.

At Shira Chdasha the community really is the choir, which actually means you have to be careful where you sit. I sat in front of an enthusiastic youth once and have been hard of hearing in my left ear ever since.

Lately I have been getting an itch in this service caused either by the length or the nagging question of “why did they stop there with halakhic leniencies when they could be doing so much more to incorporate both genders?”

Baqa Shivyoni (Egalitarian), is a new favourite of mine, it is similar to Shira Chadasha but the congregation is built of more Israelis. Also, where Shira Chadasha stopped pushing the halakhic boundaries, Baqa Shivyoni continued but they have still kept the prayers the same, and the Berlin mekhitza still remains.

The one I went to last Shabbat was by far the most exhilarating. It was Renewal Minyan called Nava Tehila and was a real step out for even the most liberal of Jews. This minyan only happens once a month, before the new moon makes its debut and it the product of Woodstock survivors and hippy rabbi’s .

The Rabbanit (female Rabbi) walks amongst the concentric circles or seats relating each upcoming prayer to love and peace with a loose link to the week’s Torah portion. The inner most circle is filled with guitarists, two people packing African drums, a harpist, a clarinet player for that traditional shtetl feel and a woman jamming on a Chinese Erhu.

The congregants have glazed grins pained on their faces and sway to the songs with their eyes closed and hands in the air, one woman displaying her arm pit fuzz.