After the hike through Israel, things have returned to normal here in Hadassa Neurim. We resumed our Hebrew classes with our new teacher and our training sessions in Karate, Judo, and Krav Maga. In addition to our Hebrew classes, we are now volunteering in English classes in the boarding school we are staying at as well. At first I thought that my volunteering to teach English when I can only speak basic Hebrew would be pretty pointless, but it turns out that my basic Hebrew is actually better than their English. The reception we received from the students varied greatly. My friend who volunteered in a different class from me said that the kids behavior was terrible and that they did not want help and did not want to learn. He said it was so bad that eventually they just left the class because there was no point in being there. One of my friends said that the class like something out of the movie "Dangerous Minds" starring Michelle Pfeiffer (and an awesome soundtrack by Coolio).
My experience was much different. I walked in to the classroom with an Iron Fist and laid down the law from the second I entered the class. The boy who I was assigned to work with at first said he didn't want to do anything and didn't want my help, but I gave him a stone cold face and told him in English to sit in his seat. Although this kid doesn't speak a word of English, he knew exactly what I was saying and for the rest of the lesson he obeyed my every command like a puppy. I was kind of like Samuel L. Jackson from the movie "187", in which he plays a teacher who works at an inner-city school and uses his "If you give me BS, I am going to punch you in the face (not literally, figuratively)" teaching method to break through to kids who otherwise would be on the streets getting into all kinds of illegal shenanigans. Overall a very enriching experience.
The following day we woke up and held a ceremony for Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Memorial Day) that kicked off with a siren at 10 a.m. This was something that is unique to Israel and to my knowledge (although I am not 100% positive) does not happen in other country in the world. This siren, which lasts for one minute, can be heard from ANYWHERE in Israel (literally). Wherever you are in the country, it is impossible to not hear this siren (unless you are deaf...duh). For that one minute, the country stands completely still to remember the millions killed in the Holocaust. Wherever you go, all able-bodied people stand still, and if you all cars in the streets and highways pull over and the drivers get out of their vehicles. It was an incredibly powerful experience.
After the siren and the ceremony that followed, we trained in karate on the beach. Our sensei made us train literally in the water, up to our waist. The water made the training more intense, as being able to do a simple kick required much more effort. It was fun for a few minutes, but the combination of salt water, sand, and wet clothes is my personal nightmare, and it was realized that day.
This past Friday we went to a Krav Maga seminar and ceremony to honor the 100th birthday of Imri Sede-Or, the founder of Krav Maga. Basically, he is this Hungarian Jew who realized the need to mobilize and establish military training to ensure the survival of the Jewish people. During the event (see the pictures), we basically trained for 90 minutes in various Krav Maga techniques and finished the ceremony by honoring the late founder.
It is interesting to note that the event was held in what used to be a refugee camp for Jewish immigrants. Basically, before World War II, the British government put a quota on the number of Jews who could enter the British Mandate of Palestine (modern day Israel, the West Bank, Gaza Strip). Jews trying to escape the escalating Anti-Semitism of Europe had to enter the country illegally due to these restrictions, and those caught were put into these Refugee Camps. After World War II, Jewish refugees (mostly Holocaust survivors) again began to move to what is modern day Israel illegally, only to be placed into refugee camps if caught. There were barb wire fences and refugee bunkers that we toured to become acquainted with the living conditions of the refugees. While much more hospitable than those of a concentration camp, I imagine being forced to live in one of those would be pretty rough.
On April 18, we went to Jerusalem for an event at Ammunition Hill for Yom Hazikaron (remembering fallen soldiers and victims of terror). Basically we heard accounts of different Israelis who were killed defending Israel or in suicide bombings. During the event, three of my friends and I decided to sit in the "All Womens Section" (the name says it all). We got a few looks but still made friends with some of the people around us. During the ceremony, in which friends and family of the victims described the life of the victim, I am pretty sure that every girl within a 10 meter radius of us started to sob. Basically, making these girls cry was like shooting fish in a barrel. While the event was very powerful and depressing at the same time, it wasn't a tear-shedding experience for me.
The following morning we woke up and stood for one minute in silence as another siren went off in remembrance of fallen soldiers and victims of terror. Like the siren to remember those killed in the Holocaust, the siren lasted one minute and could be heard from anywhere in the country. For this siren, we went to a bridge to watch the cars stop on the highway. I was surprised to see that while there were many cars that did stop as expected, there were a large number of cars that kept driving during the siren. According to my sensei (also an Israeli citizen who moved to Israel from Australia), there are many reasons why these people did not stop. Some were Israeli-Arab citizens who do not wish to honor those fallen. Others have a strong anti-war mentality or simply do not support the state of Israel and therefore chose not to stop.
That night, the festivities for YOM HATZMAUT (Israeli Independence Day) began. It is amazing to see that in the morning of April 19, people were mourning the dead, while in the evening they start to binge drink and party in celebration of independence. For the festivities in celebration, we went to a street party on Florentine Street in Tel Aviv. Basically, the street is packed with inebriated Israelis who party from 10 p.m. until the sun comes up. My friends and I basically just walked around the street, talked with Israelis, and took in the scenery. It was kind of like spring break on MTV (need I say more?).
The following day our Judo instructor, Yona, held a huge BBQ for all of us. We basically ate so much meat that we were incapacitated for the next several hours. Enough said.
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