Shavua Tavor

Before I enlisted, a friend of mine gave me apiece of advice that really saved me this week. He told me that whenever you are doing something and it seems difficult and you want to give up, remind yourself why you are there and then make it enjoyable by imagining you are somewhere else trying to accomplish some given task.

Being that this week we were once again in the shetach, sleeping in a tent not even two feet high and five feet long, I had one of the hardest physical week thus far. It was shavua Tavor, which means that it was the week to learn how to use our gun, the Tavor to its best ability. As a machlaka we shot over 14,000 kadurim (bullets in Hebrew), meaning that I shot at least 500 of them. It was an intense week, but one that was really satisfying. The week started off bright and early Sunday morning. I went to the meeting place an hour early to miss the madness that goes on Sunday mornings at the Tachana meracazi. It was definetly worth it, so I’ll probably do the same thing this Sunday. After waiting for everyone to show up, we made our way to the base where we prepared to embark on our journey to the shetach once again.

Everday was practically the same. We woke up early, ran up a hill with all of our gear because we were 30 milliseconds late, davened, set up the shooting range, and then returned at 12 at night. We shot all day, practicing different situations and different positions. It was really cool to finally learn how to use the gun in every situation possible. They made us run and shoot, lie down, and even stand up. As the days went on, our mifakdim got more intense. They began to yell more and make us run. By the end of the week we were in full gear for the majority of the day – that is, we were wearing our efod and helmet, the gear we would take to fight to practice the situations that we would learn. When things began to get difficult, I decided to listen to that piece of advice. The first thing I did was not give up. There were times when I wanted  to sit down and take a break or just liesurley walk instead of running the 400 meters in the sand. I reminded my self that I had to set an example, I am the volunteer who has to inspire everyone around me, so I didn’t stop. Even when I felt like I pulled a muscle, I ran, slowly, but it was still a faster pace than walking. When things got annoying, I decided to put myself in different situations. I imagined myself as being in a video game shooting at targets and being timed while doing so. I told the guys around me and they thought I was nuts, but it sure helped me as the days grew longer.

Ever since I found out that Daniel and I were going to be separate, I was afraid that I would not be able to find anyone to “kibbutz” with (or just to hang out with during the free time). Finally by the end of the week our group grew closer and we began to joke around.  Although most of the jokes were targeted at me for my accent and incoherent Hebrew, it was fun, and as a group we grew closer. Looking back at it now, it makes me feel much better as to the reason for my service.

The week ended off with another 5k masa, where, with all of our gear, we hiked at a rather quick pace. I don’t know why but it really felt like I was being Aliyah L’Regel, brining the korbanot (sacrifices) to the Beit Hamikdash (the holy temple) because we had the one leader, or the high priest (Cohen) with everyone guarding the pikalim, or the stretcher and water, which I imagined as being the sacrifices. Although this may all seem very weird, it made everything a lot of fun.

The week on base ended Thursday morning as it was parents day for the entire base. They took everyone like me, a chayal boded (lone soldier) to a beit chayal where they house people without immediate family in Israel. They served us a big breakfast and sent us home. It was really nice to finally have a few days off after the difficult weeks being in the shetach. Things were hard and will only get more difficult, but when things are difficult it only means that you are going up and are closer at reaching your final goal, a lesson I hope to take with me throughout my service.

Before I conclude I wanted to share a nice idea I said over on the parsha after mincha one day this week. At the end of this weeks parsha the laws of weights and measurement in terms of halacha are juxtaposed with the mitzvah to remember Amalek. When reading this I was very curious as to why the two parshiot were juxtaposed. Rashi mentions that it teaches us to be very careful with the ways we, as Jews, deal with business. When I looked at this Rashi it, at first, did not make a whole lot of sense. After thinking about it I realized that we learn a great lesson from it. Like in the army, we have to be careful as to everything that we do. We have to watch our time because zman barzel, we have to be careful with our word choice as to not offend anyone, and we have to be careful to be fair to not cheat anyone else when dealing with business. The simple things that we do in our life can be the most difficult to watch over. Even things like weights and measurement in business, people think that the nitty gritty details do not matter. However, what do we learn from this weeks parsha? We learn that they all matter, that we need to be careful. Because if we do not care, then “zachor et Amalek” – remember Amalek, the nation that it is a mitzvah to kill, the nation believed to be the most evil. WE have to be careful with every detail because we need to please Hashem and defeat all the evil and not succumb to defeat, succumb to the defeat by Amalek. I, too, must remember this that I am here in the army to fight for the state of Israel. I am also here to give inspiration to those that have to serve, being that I am only  a volunteer. I must watch everything I do because who knows, maybe there is someone watching me when I am take that leisure walk or not listening to my commanders. I have to be aware of my surroundings and watch my actions because I am here to help and not succumb to the evil, not to be defeated by Amalek.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Shabbos!

 

-- Ari Platt

Weeks 1 and 2

Hey! As you all may know or for those who do not know I am in the Israeli army. Yes, me, the kid from LA who plays hockey and loves to surf. The one who’s in the middle of YU and happens to be president of the Social Justice Society. I have decided to write a blog to keep all of you updated on my journey so you can get a sense as to what I am experiencing and the lessons I learn daily (and of course to fill my parents in on all that I am doing). As of now, I have been in the army for almost three weeks. I entered August 4, which seems so long ago. In the first few weeks I have learned so much and have experienced much. I therefore intend to share with you as I continue my journey.

The night before we entered, I stayed by Daniel Rubin’s cousins in Ranana, which was close to Bakum, the place where the Lishkat giyus (office for all the new recruits) is located and many of the logistical offices. That first morning was a relief because it was the end of many months of agony just trying to get into the army. I was on the phone for hours sent to many offices, and was informed numerous times that I would not be allowed to join the army. I thought I would get that feeling, the one that you’re no longer free and must obey the rules. The feeling that you’ve joined something that you can’t get out of. The feeling that you’re in the army. It seemed like a regular day, expect for being sent into room after room, getting shots, getting clothes, and having to wait. I tried to have a positive attitude when I went through all of this and it helped. When we were given the shots they were about to give us shots that we already received. For some reason I was the only one that was aware of this and when everyone in our group didn’t think twice about going and getting the shots, I questioned them and they realized that they were wrong. This was the start of many things to learn about Israeli society that I would have to learn to cope with.

We left the bakum and went to our base. What a long drive! We finally got arrived at the base. Daniel and I were split up, but it was trom tironut, which is the preparation for basic training. My miphaked’s (the commander of my tent) name was miphaked din. I thought the feeling would hit when he made us set up our bags in perfect shloshot (lines of three). As Daniel was sent off with this nice guy who made them wait around and not do anything, I was forced to do pushups (or “pressing” with a hard core Israeli accent). The week ended early, fortunately and unfortunately. I was let out early because a Talmid from Gush (my yeshiva) was stripped of his life in tank training, so they let everyone from gush leave. Fortunely, however, my parents were in town so I was able to see them.

After a wonderful shabbos, I had to wake up early for my first real week. I davened with my Dad at the kotel and made my way to the bus station. Getting on the bus Sunday morning is crazy, especially going to Be’er Sheva where most of the bases use as a point to pick up all of the chayalim. When we finally got to the base, I thought Daniel and I would be together. As we knew all along we were put in the same gidud but different machlaka. I spoke to my miphaked and tried to see if I could switch. I couldn’t so I tried to make the best of my situation. That first week felt like camp, like a sleep over version of Paul Young. You have these counselors (or in my case miphakdim) who have the need to be more powerful than you when they’re really the same age as you. You have to do sports (or in my case push ups and sprints) that you don’t want to. But overall you are with your friends. One of the things the army is very keen on is time. Zmaney barzel as they would say. It’s true, though, time is golden and there is more time than you think. They time everything you do. Whether it’s going to the bathroom, davening, eating, or even sprinting, you have to do everything in the allotted time. With the mishnayot in my pocket, I came to see that I do have time to learn in the army, two minutes means a mishnah or at least start one. You have to take the situations at hand and use them to the best of your ability. There is more time than you think. 

As I realized all of this, the feeling never hit me, even when we got our guns. We received a tavor, which is the new Israeli gun. With my uniform on, including my sun hat, I felt like I was Indiana Jones lost in a star wars set. The gun looks futuristic and I looked ready to unlock clues in some lost desert. Thank God I have had my gun on me. My brother and Daniel think that I will loose it, so hopefully I wont, as I am prone to lose everything.

That first week ended with an amazing Shabbat. I was sad at first to have to stay in, but Shabbat started with an unbelievable Friday night davening. Kulam beyachad, everyone together, Ashkenazim, Sepharidim, chilonim, and datiim. We started off the davening with carlebach niggunim, then switched to a Sephardic lech dodi. I have never experienced anything like it. As our division in Givati is the only one with a group of Yeshiav guys we were definitely the loudest at night at dinner. I thought it wouldn’t feel like shabbos as I had to carry my gun and wear my uniform, but when we stayed late at the meal singing, “hakadosh baruch hu, anachnu…” with chilonim, it was amazing. It was one of those things I wanted, to be together with the Yeshiva guys giving the chilonim a real Shabbat. After the meal we went to our tents where our miphaked harasap was standing on a podium as we chanted in a mosh-pit-sort-of-motion dancing and making fun of other units. The next day was like a normal shabbos, expect for waking up at five in the morning to do shmira. I slept, learned, ate, and davened. The one lesson I took out of the shabbos was kulam beyachad, that no matter who you are with, if your in a group you are together and have to make the best of it. 

That all gets me to this past week where we were in the shetach. We slept in tents that one person could barely fit. The first night I slept in a tent with three people on the sand in the middle of the desert. It was at that point that I realized I was not in Paul Young at pointsetia park, I was in the army. The week was full of learning how to use the gun and different battle formations. We ate manot krav (basically war time meals full of kosher spam and tuna) and basked in the heat of the desert son. Although it was a difficult week, it ended with a masa (or hike) with all of our gear. I was chosen to carry my mipahkeds radio. My job was to run through the pack to be the contact person and make sure everything was okay. Although it was an honor it was very difficult. By the end of the masa we received our tages that define us. It was a very moving ceremony as we were finally defined as a soldier in the givati brigade. With a sign reading “mishpachat luchamim” (or family of warriors), im eshkach ech playing in the background, and all of us drowsed with sweat with our gear and barret, we received our tags, the signs of who we are apart of. It was especially moving for me as I received my miphaked’s tag, an honor given at every stage. I accepted the tag and am proud to wear it.

Although I have not been in the army for that long, I have experienced much and have learned much more. The main thing I can take out of these past few weeks is to take every day as a new day and that for every situation that is difficult you have to realize that it means that you are going up and are on the path towards success. As I continue my army service I will try to take these lessons that I learn and help me on my journey. I hope to write during the weeks that I get off to inform you of all that I have done and all that I have learned and hope you can take the lessons and use them in your own lives. Have a wonderful Shabbos!

-- Ari Platt