By Bill Greenspan

My life is a continuous chain of little pushes. My mother pushed me out to this world. The grandmother pushed me through the threshold of the pre-school. There were more shoves and less pushes afterwards but I persevered. And recently, a little article in Phoenix Jewish News pushed me into volunteering for Israel. The article invited people interested in volunteering in Israel to attend Sar-El meeting. Sar-El is the national project for volunteers for Israel that provides opportunity to participate “hands-on” in helping Israel to dedicated and eager souls. The idea to see the land of my forefathers and at the same time to contribute to the courageous country was irresistible. This was the missing link and an omen I was waiting for many years.

My family emigrated from former Soviet Union in 1979 using family reunion in Israel as a pretext. After enduring official harassment and other social inconveniences we finally crossed the Iron Curtain and arrived in Vienna. At this moment we sheepishly decided not to reunite with our fictitious relatives in Israel and opted instead for resettlement in the USA.

I never regretted this decision and just felt a little embarrassed by my own timidity and lack of emotional connection with the Jewish homeland. But I always remembered my debt to Israel and hoped to repay it one day. Years went by and I always delayed visiting the country finding valid reasons of not being ready, of fear being disappointed, of not being able to find common bonds, etc.

But the Sar-El tour promised to give me the perfect opportunity not only to see the country but also to help it, as I always planned. 

After few phone calls to the local Sar-El representative, which is part of Alliance for Israel, I was firmly set in my pursuit and within two months was on a flight to Tel Aviv. Upon arrival and meeting local Sar-El representative, I joined a dozen other volunteers living and working on a military base outside the city.

I left with low comfort expectations and was treating this journey as paying dues for previous abandonment but the reality was surprisingly different. I shared an air-conditioned room in a trailer with two other volunteers, one from Finland and another from Baltimore. I would give this accommodation a one star rating. Showers and restroom were nearby and I was even delightfully surprised to find a working washer and dryer. To top it all off, the mass hall food was in abundance and delicious. I could finally smell juiciness of tomato and crispness of cucumber. And for the eggplant lover in me, it was definitely a paradise.

This is by no means an advertisement for a Mediterranean vacation; other bases are probably not as accommodating. I am just describing my own experience.

Each member of our group was given a task commensurate with their ability and age and each and everyone contributed fully. We interfaced a lot with soldiers and I was amazed by their dedication to the country and willingness to defend it if needed. We would joke that we have young daughter or son for so and so to marry and not even once we would have a willing volunteer.

With few breaks and little kibitzing the days went by quickly and after sumptuous dinner we would listen to lectures or discuss subjects of importance to Israel. Of course, everyone had a different solution to the Arab-Israel conflict and defended his or her point like fighters of Masada with difference in opinion reaching boiling point on few occasions. At the end, though, we were all united in our support for Israel.

During one of those discussions, each of us represented a member of a different social segment in Israel society, e.g. secular or orthodox Jew, Arab, Druze, etc. We were supposed to freely exchange demographical data and describe our way of living. In reality Susan, who represented an orthodox Jew, kept criticizing herself for not serving in the IDF and for not recognizing State of Israel. After that display of disloyalty, a Palestinian Arab (represented by Doris) refused to have more than one wife and dropped his demand for a right to return to Israel.

The rest of the nights were spent in socializing and playing games. After surprising and beating English native speaking friends in Boggles for two nights, I encountered a true challenge in Judy, a volunteer from Chicago. Actually she beat me so resoundingly that I initially swore off playing the game again but then rescinded my oath and beat her on the last day of our tour.  Those nightly encounters and socializing were significant part of overall enjoinment of the Sar-El program. I felt being part of a largely disjointed but closely knit family where each member is part of the clan and dear to you.

During my three weeks stay, we went on two free trips around the country provided by Sar-El. One took us to Jerusalem and another to Zichron Ya’akov and local winery.  On days off we were left to our own fancy and spent those touring different parts of the country or just relaxing in numerous seashore hotels. Many offer discounts to the Sar-El participants and a hostel in Tel Aviv offers free accommodations and food.

Three weeks flew by quickly and I returned to Phoenix happy, heart ached, and relieved. Happy, because I felt redeemed and liked the unforgettable Sar-El experience. Heart ached, because I left part of my heart in the country. Relieved, because my fear of not connecting with Israel did not occur, relieved because I know that the country in hands of strong committed youth from different countries and background dedicated to one and only goal of preserving its future.