Yesterday we took a bus from Tel Aviv to Qiryat Shmona. It was Sunday, so all the buses were filled with young soldiers. After spending Shabat with their families, they were returning to military bases around the country. They look different from U.S soldiers we’ve seen back home. There are tall, short, slim, chubby, geeky, cool, primped up, and scruffy soldiers. The IDF drafts from the entire population, with few exceptions, so they pick up the jocks and popular kids along with the freaks and geeks. The female soldiers are especially interesting. One girl on our bus had her nails, hair and makeup done. If you took away her uniform, you could easily drop her off at a club in New York City and no one would ever question that she didn’t belong. Most of the male soldiers also have to carry around a weapon at all times, so imagine your typical high school crowd, throw in some M-16 assault rifles with grenade launchers, and you have your typical Sunday bus ride in Israel. The guns were nonchalantly thrown to the side, as the soldiers propped their feet up or dozed off. It was strange to see the ease with which such young individuals handled dangerous weaponry.
When we finally arrived in Kibbutz Kfar Giladi, just a short car ride from Qiryat Shmona, we came upon a memorial to the 12 reservists who were killed by a katuysha rocket just last summer. It was a reminder of the danger faced by Israel on all fronts. Just this week, Hamas took over the Gaza strip, embroiling tensions between it and Fatah. And just after we left Qiryat Shmona, the town was hit by two rockets. No one was hurt, but we were both worried that the tensions between Israel and its other neighbor Lebanon, would heat up again this summer. Those issues did not seem to affect the soldiers, nor did the kibbutzniks of Kfar Giladi belie any fear of the nearby terror. Ben’s Safta (grandmother) seemed more concerned with her “cuckoo” neighbor, who collects trash from other kibbutniks. Her relaxed attitude eased our fears, and so we sat eating tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs and cottage cheese — casual fare for an Israeli.
We later strolled around the Kibbutz with Magnum ice cream bars in hand, overwhelmed by what we’ve seen. There is still so much to learn, still so many people to meet, and so many stories to be shared. Where to begin? Tomorrow, we are meeting Dganit, one of the soon-to-be soldiers who has agreed to be interviewed. Later in the day, we will peruse the archives of the kibbutz museum.
Luckily, even with rockets Israel is probably safer than DC.
Hopefully things get off on the right foot when you start meeting your “cast.”