Volunteer program gets adults hooked on Israel
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It began inauspiciously. After what seemed like days of traveling, I stumbled off the plane, retrieved my bag and sought a vaguely defined meeting place: seats to the right of the fountain in the Arrivals Hall of Ben Gurion Airport. Blearily pushing my luggage cart, I made my way to a knot of T-shirted Sar-El volunteers. With the others, I lined up before a woman with a clipboard, handed over my travel documents and was summarily assigned to an army base. Strains of "you're in the army now" reverberated through my head as I boarded the bus to the base.
Sar-El, or Volunteers for Israel, places volunteers on Israeli military bases for one to three weeks to work in a wide range of non-combat roles. Our army base, situated close to Tel Aviv, was enormous. Our quarters resembled a pared-down, concrete overnight camp. And in true summer camp fashion, we were assigned to cabins and segregated by sex.
I was one of 40 volunteers for two weeks in October, having taken time off from my job as a trial lawyer in Boston. I shared living quarters with four other women. While spartan, our accommodations were certainly adequate: We had closet and drawer space, reading lights above our beds and an asthmatic but serviceable air conditioner. A community room, known as a moadon, was lined with couches and chairs, and featured a tiny table and a large refrigerator. We even had a washing machine and a dryer, and miles and miles of clothesline.
Our group ranged in age from 17 to 87 (at 50, I was in the middle), and we came not only from the United States but from Canada, Hungary and Holland. Some of us were veteran volunteers, some first timers. Some had been to Israel dozens of times, some never before. Most were Jews but some were Christians. What we had in common was an interest in and devotion to Israel, and a desire, to paraphrase Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, to pray with our feet.
We quickly fell into a routine. On that first morning, garbed in uniforms that were either too large or too small, we met for breakfast, then lined up with the real IDF soldiers for flag-raising. Next, we were assigned to our workstations.
Our base was responsible for checking and processing medical supplies. And while it included some variety, the work mainly consisted of packing, unpacking, sorting or checking saline bags, gauze pads, medications and the like. Not glamorous, not intellectually enriching but necessary and, for several reasons, deeply fulfilling. For one, this is work that needs doing. Our labor freed up soldiers and reservists for more important tasks. In addition, I loved the hands-on aspect, the fact that I had something concrete and tangible to point to at day's end. And I loved that the work day had an end, that 4 p.m. was quitting time, physically and mentally - no risk that I'd lie awake at night working out the day's stresses and problems.
Throughout our stay, we were supervised by a pair of female soldiers called madrichot. These women, who were in their 20s, were remarkably mature and relentlessly pleasant. Not only did they troubleshoot minor work and housing issues, they planned and executed impressive nightly programs. They educated us about social problems and tensions in Israeli society and had us discussing discrimination in housing and employment, and the tensions inherent in the notion of a Jewish democratic state.
On the whole, we were not especially well-informed on any of these topics, but Tal and Shany quickly brought us up to speed to the point where we were comfortable discussing - with some sophistication - the nuances of these difficult issues. And a surprising dividend: Sparring intellectually made us even more cohesive as a group.
The Israeli work week runs Sunday through Thursday. Each Thursday afternoon, we were released from the base, freed to travel and pursue our own interests. Volunteers get hefty discounts at hotels and attractions, including free stays in the soldiers' hostels.
While most of our group congregated in Tel Aviv or Jerusalem, others ranged a bit farther afield, visiting family and friends throughout the country, exploring Haifa, Tiberias and points in the south.
It's quite easy to get around Israel, with an endless list of religious, political, historical and cultural sites to visit. There are also endless opportunities to party and relax, whether on one of the gorgeous beaches, or in one of the zillions of cafes, bars and restaurants.
I've recently learned a disturbing statistic: Two-thirds of American Jews have never visited Israel. Passport to Israel and Birthright are motivating kids to go. Sar-El, which was founded in 1983, provides an option for adults. It's offered every month, it's well run, and it's very low-cost. It's a great way to meet people and get close to them quickly. It's an ideal synthesis of work, play and service to Israel. Would I go back? In a heartbeat. Meet you there next October.