Lost in Translation: Israel

Family and friends,
I hope that each of you and your families are having a relaxing summer and wish you a happy July 4th.
I realize that this post is long overdue, and apologize for its tardiness, but the past 3 weeks have been quite remarkable.
A few people have asked what my itinerary over the next few months and during my tenure in Israel will be, so here it is:

• June 24-July 31: Jerusalem, Hebrew University Ulpan (Hebrew immersion course)
• August 1-14: ??? Hoping to travel with army friends to Istanbul, Turkey, or Jordan or Egypt. If you've been to any of these countries and have some recommendations, please let me know!
• August 14-early November: Moving to Kibbutz Yiftach in northern Israel, just across from Lebanon; working on the kibbutz and more Ulpan
  
• September: Psychometric and other army examinations; start the countdown of 2 years of army service...
  
• early November-May (?): Rumors say that basic training for Kravi (fighting) Units is 6 months.
  
• May (?)-2010: Deployment around Israel for the rest of my 1.5 years of army service

Others have asked about my reasons for serving and about my preparation, both mentally and physically, over the past few months. There were a few articles written about me that answer these questions in depth:
http://www.clevelandjewishnews.com/articles/2008/05/30/news/local/graduate0530.txt
http://observer.case.edu/Archives/Volume_40/Issue_26/Story_2742/
http://www.bnaijeshurun.org/documents/TidingsJuly08a.pdf


With that all said, here's a recap of the past three weeks:
I departed Cleveland at 6 AM on June 11th and arrived in Tel Aviv on the 12th. The first 10 days I traveled in a compact car around the country with my father living out of a suitcase. As you can imagine, tensions rose on occasion (you do the math: living out of a suitcase and a different city each day with your father), but all in all it was a treat to be (re)introduced to family who I have never seen or have not seen since, as everyone likes to demonstrate by pointing to two feet off the ground and reiterating, "you were this tall!"

The first few days were spent at my father's cousin Rivka and Chemi Cohen's house in the northern Negev at Moshav En Habsour. (A moshav is a farm co-op where each family has its own house and land to conduct agriculture on and sell the agriculture products either collectively or independently). I was re-acquainted with the Cohen daughters (Shlomit, 21, Gili, 25, Roni, 28, and Noga, 30). Tensions with Gaza were surfacing again during our sojourn as a Kassam missile was shot from nearby Gaza and landed just a few miles from En Habsour (the moshav is at most 5 miles from Gaza). As Chemi explained to me, residents of the northern Negev are at odds with the Israeli government as Kassam missiles have continued to pour into the country but Olmert has yet to forcibly retaliate. The kicker is that Israel sends in truck loads of supplies ranging from food to phosphorous daily to aid the Palestinians. However, Hamas and other militant groups have used the phosphorous and Israeli aid to build the Kassam missiles that they then shoot right back into Israel. (Kassam missiles have no guidance systems and are shot randomly with pellets to kill as many people as possible). You can watch CNN day and night, but until you see ashy craters and smell the rancid odor of burnt sand, you do not realize the true day to day fear that Israelis live with.

Just down from the missile attack is Kibbutz Ein Hashlosha, where my father's aunt and uncle Samulito and Chi'a Samban live. From there we traveled north to Tel Aviv to meet Rivka's two sisters, Michal and Ruti, along with their children and significant others (children is a loose term, they are all 25-30 years old). What Jerusalem is to religion, Tel Aviv is to everything else: pubs, restaurants, night life, technology, etc. The Mediterranean Sea is unbelievably warm and an afternoon is not complete without sitting at a cafe and sipping on a mojito or two. In Tel Aviv we visited more family members, one of which, Paul Kebar, was a pilot at 18 in the RAF during WWII and was one of Israels first pilots in 1948. Touring Tel Aviv we stopped by the oldest part of the city where my father spent part of his childhood. Much like in the US, the oldest, most worn parts of cities have become prime real estate for renovations and trendy shopping (including $300 Italian shorts).

Our next stop in Jerusalem took us to family friends, the Steinbergs and Ganchrows, whose American backgrounds were a nice change of pace. My father met with colleagues at Hebrew University and Hadassa Hospital to look into collaborating on future research projects, and I spent the day relaxing, happy to be out of the car. Many more family members later, we stopped by my father's parents' graves in Ashdod, a very emotional experience for both my father and me; it was the first time that I had visited in close to 10 years. At some point I am going to rent a cello and visit their graves to play for my grandparents who provided me the opportunity to take lessons for 10 years but never heard me play; it is the least I owe them.

Changing gears, I want to clarify that although my Garin (army group from the US) does not meet until August 14th, I came early to work on my Hebrew and visit family. That was the good news, the bad news was that instead of waiting for my Garin to help me with my paperwork, my father and I had to handle my Teduat Zeheut (ID card), Teduat Zechaut (essentially returning minor paperwork, I was born in Israel), open a bank account, Ministry of Absorption/Immigration, Aliyah forms, scholarship forms, health care registration, army deferral (they wanted me to join right away), and a few other odds and ends to tie up. I won't go into too much detail regarding the absurdity of where we had to go and what we had to do, but my commentary is reserved to the observation that the Israel bureaucracy is in a league of its own. Patience is the cardinal virtue as each and every stop takes a minimum of 2-3 hours and the hours of operations might as well be on a roulette wheel (banks are open until only 1pm Sunday, Tues, Thurs, but reopen again from 4-6 pm on Mon and Wed....I think...). Regardless, without my father's persistent personality and fluency in Hebrew, I would be as the Israeli's say, "achalt oti," "I'm screwed." To this I owe him a nice bottle of merlot. By coincidence--scratch that, good karma--over Shabbat dinner at the Cohen's house, we were discussing my plans and how I was going to get everything done in just two days, when Roni's fiance, Ayal, mentioned that his mother, Becky, works at the Ministry of Absorption/Immigration, and would help me with the army (a meeting that I spent 20 minutes being interviewed and 2 hours waiting, with only 2 other people in the waiting room), Aliyah, and half of my other paperwork. Bless Becky, because without her, we would still be in line. My roommate on Kibbutz Yiftach has said it best, "Wow, I got my bank account today in just 4 hours, that was a breeze!"

I have just about finished all the paperwork and am now at Hebrew University at Mt. Scopus (Har Hatofim) in Jerusalem, located next to Hadassa Hospital where I was born--22 years and I've made a complete circle! I find it ironic that after four years of college without a class before 10 AM, I have class from 8:30-1:15 five days a week, where English is forbidden in the classroom, and 1-2 hours of homework a night. There are few things more humbling than learning a language after graduating from college; the little grammar nuances that I never learned are torture to imprint in my mind. Regardless, the teachers are unbelievable and in just a week and a half, my Hebrew has improved by leaps and bounds. Being immersed in the language is truly the best way to learn--that being said, the first thing I do after class to clear my mind is plug the iPod in and turn on the country music.

I was watching the movie Lost in Translation a few nights ago to compare my experiences with those of Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray's characters who feel out of place in Japan and with Japanese culture. In one of my favorite scenes, Bill Murray, playing a famous actor, is sitting on a set in a tuxedo, making a commercial for a Japanese whiskey. As he is sitting there, the director goes into several passionate speeches that last a few minutes and the translator reiterates to Bill Murray that the director would like him to use more emotion and turn slower towards the camera. Stunned, Bill Murray asks the translator if that is all the director said considering he spoke for several minutes, and she replies, yes. Similarly, I've discovered that learning Hebrew is not only as frustrating, but the way in which one communicates with others is extremely different than English. What can be said in one minute in English can take two minutes in Hebrew, and furthermore, the way in which one simply wants to express his emotions are completely different. What we would say in English often makes no sense in Hebrew, and vice versa. Therefore, when I think of what I want to say in English and then translate it to Hebrew, I often get blank stares in return. The trick is to learn how to express yourself in Hebrew and not translate from English...a trick that will take just a little bit more work.

I have had the opportunity to go out a few times since I've been here. The first was a moshav party for several of the neighboring moshim and kibbutzim. The party was directly next to all of the cows, but after a few beers everyone seemed to zone out the smell. The party was called "Shira ve-beera," translated directly as "singing and beer." I had the pleasure of teaching Israelis a few drinking games (very unpopular in Israel) which seemed to catch on, but once the singing started, everyone was up, singing and dancing. This was followed by another scene from Lost in Translation where Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson are out in Japan at a club with blaring techno music. Everyone is dancing and quite immersed in the music while Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson are taken back, out of their comfort zone. As you have guessed, the "Shira ve-beera" was followed with techno music, a far cry from my comfort zone of country and hip-hop. I guess that's just something that will take time to get used to...maybe.

I would like to end this first dialogue with something that I have noticed about Israeli culture. Israelis are "salt of the earth" people: people who often have very little, but have the biggest hearts. Each and everyone of my family members and friends insisted that I take their contact info and told me a minimum of three times that their home is my home, and anytime I need anything or a place to stay, I am more than welcome in their house. I have built up a Rolodex of who's who in Israel and at no point will I ever be without a loving family member or friend. For someone who has left his family and friends half way around the world, it is very comforting to know how loved I am.


For contacting me, the best way is usually email: nadav.weinberg@gmail.com.
However, I have subscribed to Skype (a free computer-to-computer calling software) where you can have video conferences with the other person. To download Skype, visit:
http://www.skype.com/intl/en/welcomeback/
Add me as a "contact." You can search for me by either Nadav Weinberg or my contact name, nadav.weinberg


With a sunburn on my shoulders and Hebrew on my tongue, wishing you the best,
Love and VDBL,

Nadav Weinberg