Chapter 7

Israel is .004% of the earth's surface.

They say the most valuable things come in small packages.

So now I'm depressed and want to go home. Seeing Avi in all his military splendor grilling me on why I came here wasn't exactly how I imagined it. I'm sluggish as I follow the girls inside a building and we all sit in chairs in a classroom. To my surprise, the snickering girl from Avi's unit came with us and is obviously about to teach us something.

"This is Liron," Ronit explains. "She's one of the few female operations specialists assigned to a new IDF commando unit called Sayeret Tzefa. They've just come back from parachute training and are spending a few weeks on our base before they head off to Counter Terror School. We're very lucky to have them here to train you."

The other girls are immediately impressed by Liron.

Even though she's not an official member of SayeretTzefa, by working alongside it she's as close as a female can get.

We spend the next two hours listening to her talk about the state of Israel and the countries that surround it.

"Who can tell me why Israel is so significant?" she asks.

I definitely know why it's significant to me, especially since for the past year I've been taking conversion classes at my synagogue.

My mom raised me with no religion, and my dad is Jewish. Last summer when I came to Israel, I connected with my Jewish heritage and wanted to learn all I could about it.

I raise my hand along with a couple of the other girls, totally ignoring the fact that my sweaty armpits smell like rotten eggs.

"You, in the pink tank top,' Liron says, pointing to me, Your name is Amy, right? Avi's chaverah?

"His girlfriend," I clarify.

"Chaverah means girlfriend."

"I knew that."

Liron smiles at me, and I notice not only is her skin Wawless, but her teeth are perfectly straight. "So Amy, why do you think Israel is significant?"

I sit up straight in my hot metal chair, which my thighs have stuck to from the heat. My skin rubs on the metal with each movement, making a squeaking sound. It hurts, probably have thigh-burn later on. "Because it's the

Jewish homeland," I answer.

Liron nods. "You're right. As Americans, you share the same democratic freedoms we do here in Israel."

"The Palestinians don't have it so easy here," Jess chimes in. "I mean, I'm proud to be Jewish and would never want to be anything else, but when will the fighting stop?"

Oh, no! "While Tarik would be proud of Jess for sticking up for his people, I'm not sure this is the best place to debate the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. And while I am usually all for a knock-down-drag-out verbal sparring session, I'm not sure anything but trouble can come out of a political discussion on an Israeli military base.

I decide to intervene. "I think my friend Jess here is trying to say that, uh, while Israel is the Jewish homeland, not everyone feels the same way. No need to go into the specific differences, though.

It's all cool. Discussion over."

Liron walks down the aisle and stands in front of my chair. "It's against regulation for a soldier to talk about the political situation in Israel while in an IDF uniform. But I guarantee that you can get into a long political discussion with any Israeli out of uniform. And I also guarantee that you'll get a hundred and fifty different opinions if you talk to a hundred Israelis."

Whoa, that's a lot of opinions.

"Girls, my job in the IDF is to protect Israel. As a private, or new trainee, your job is to take orders. You will be treated like a real Israeli soldier, and you will act like a real Israeli soldier. When we say get in formation,' you get in formation or you'll be doing twenty pushups. When we say

'run,' you run. When we wake you at the crack of dawn, you'll be ready and in formation within seven minutes. "We're going to test your will and your spirit. We're going to test you physically and mentally. You're going to hate and curse your instructors while you're going through it, and love us and feel like a stronger person in the end. Any questions?"

I raise my hand. When Liron points to me, I say, "Do we get free time?"

"Maybe," she answers curdy. "Why are you here, Amy?"

To spend time with my boyfriend, so Israeli girls like you don't steal him away from me, I want to say. But instead I say, "To feel what it's like to be an Israeli soldier."

An instructor named Gili comes in and talks to us about the state of Israel. "Israel has a population of about six million Jews," she explains. "We are a minority in the Middle East. It's no secret we cannot afford to lose even one war. To do so might mean the end of the state of Israel. That's why every single Jewish Israeli citizen must serve in the military. Israeli Druze and Bedouins serve in our military as well."

For the next two hours, Liron and other instructors take turns teaching us. I haven't paid much attention to the other girls in my unit, but being in a small classroom gives me the opportunity to check them out.

During the bus ride to the base, I learned that five of the girls are friends from New York. They all have straight brown hair and the same basic "look." They're taking this whole boot camp thing seriously and are determined to be obedient soldiers. I swear these New York girls can't wait to get down and dirty in the Israeli dirt. I think they're under the impression that at the end of our military basic training program they'll be ready for the front lines of battle. I don't have the heart to tell them they've got a demented view of reality.

We have four girls from California. They're all really pretty and two of them are fakey-blond.

Then there's Tori, our resident bitch. She's a total loner, by choice. She rolls her eyes at everything, and makes snide comments to just about everyone on the trip. I think her goal in life is to insult every person she comes in contact with. Her hair is long and blond, but when she turns around and her hair parts you can see that underneath she has a sheath of black hair. It's totally two-tone, but I have no clue if she wants it that way or if it's a bad dye job. Either way, it's definitely unique.

The rest of the seven girls in our barracks are from different states scattered around the country, although two are actually from Canada and I want to laugh every time they say the word "about"

because it comes out as "ah-boot."

Right now we're being dismissed from the classroom. How can I break it to Ronit that I'm "ah-boot" to go search for my boyfriend?

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 589