A Tale of Two Moments

For me, two distinct moments defined this year’s Yom HaZikaron-Yom HaAtzma’ut continuum:

Yom HaZikaron 5774 - Monday, May 5, 2014
11:00 AM

OS (=Our Soldier) stands at attention in one of Israel’s military cemeteries.

Although he’s wearing his dress army uniform, a scraggly mustache and beard obscure part of his face. Normally, this would be against military regulations.

But today, no one minds. In the IDF, the Jewish army, religious soldiers are exempt from shaving during the Sefirat HaOmer period.

As the siren wails, OS looks down solemnly at the grave of his former elementary school classmate, a hero who was killed while defending Eretz Yisrael and Am Yisrael.

T. stands a few feet away. He too was one of OS’s former classmates. The night before, T. appeared on national television. An officer cadet, he was chosen to be part of the honor guard participating in the Yom HaZikaron torch-lighting ceremony at the Kotel.

Yom HaAtzma’ut 5774 - Tuesday, May 6, 2014
12:30 PM

The entire Shiputzim family – including OS, who’s home on a short leave for the holiday - is driving along Kvish 6, the Trans-Israel Highway, on the way to the gorgeous Shomron for a wonderful BBQ (i.e. a mangal or al ha’eish, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you) replete with great food and great company.

Kvish 6 is a marvel of Israeli engineering and ingenuity. A toll-road without any toll booths to impede traffic or serve as ugly blots on the scenery, its tunnels blend seamlessly into the Biblical landscape.

The Israeli flag attached to the car window whips merrily in the wind. Blue and white flags lining the side of the highway wave back, and electronic signs wish the travelers a happy Yom HaAtzma’ut.

Inside the car, the usual sibling squabbles (“He’s looking at me!” “She’s touching me!”) are surprisingly absent.

Perhaps the lull in the hostilities is due to the fact that everyone is simply enjoying the rare family outing. After all, in recent years, there have been very few occasions when the entire family was home and able to go on trips.

Or perhaps it’s because the Chidon HaTanach (the International Bible Quiz) is playing on the radio. Like most Israelis, the Shiputzim family has a close connection to at least one of the young contestants, and watching or, as in this case, listening to the Chidon is a cherished Yom HaAtzma’ut tradition.

Kvish 6 – Yom HaAtzma’ut 5774 (As always, please click on the pictures for a much better view.)

What small yet meaningful moments defined Yom HaZikaron/Yom HaAtzma’ut 5774 for you?

Freshly Baked Goods Friday: Lemon Cake Edition

It was one of those rare confluences of events.

B”H, we had plenty of lemons on our tree; we were in the mood for something more substantial than lemonade; and the Studentit had some time on her hands in between studying for finals.

<brief cultural observation>
Back in the Old Country – or at least back in the part of the Old Country centered around Midtown Manhattan’s 34th and Lexington – four weeks typically separated the fall and spring semesters: a week to study (aka “reading week” בלעז); an intense examination week, which often involved two finals per day; and then two blissful weeks of vacation.

Meanwhile, here in Israel, intersession (i.e. chofshah bein hasemesterim, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you) also lasts four weeks, but the difference is that finals are spread out over the entire month. In other words, although one never really gets to enjoy an actual vacation, one is spared the stress and pressure of having all the exams in a single week.

But I digress…
</observation>

All this is to say that to the delight of the denizens of TRLEOOB*, the aforementioned convergence had a delicious result:

Lemon Cake

Adapted from “Kosher by Design”

Ingredients

• 1½  cups sugar
• 2½ cups flour
• 3 tsp baking powder (i.e. one envelope for my Israeli readers)
• ¾ cup mango juice (orange juice works too)
• ¾ cup canola oil
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
• 4 eggs

Glaze

• ¾ cup powdered sugar
• 2 TBSP lemon juice

Directions

Mix sugar, flour, and baking powder. Add juice, oil, and vanilla. Beat in eggs and mix well.

Pour batter into oiled and floured bundt pan. (We used a tube pan without a removable bottom.) Bake at 325 degrees for 50-60 minutes or until done.

As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, use a toothpick to poke holes all over the top of the hot cake, and immediately pour the glaze all over the cake and especially into the holes.

Let cool in pan before serving.

!בתאבון ושבת שלום ומבורך

______________

*TRLEOOB=the real life equivalent of our blog

Registering displeasure

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for long, drawn-out tales of, er, woe and suffering. Proceed at your own risk.

I have many fond memories of my college years.

But registering for courses is certainly not one of them.

It all started with my first semester at Stern. Incoming students signed up for courses after all the upper classmen, and due to the vagaries of the alphabet, I was one of the last students in the entire school to register.

Which meant that by the time my turn came around, the pickings were fairly slim.

I still shudder when I recall running up and down the stairs between the registrar’s office and the computer room, where a large monitor displayed all the closed courses. (“What do you mean EVERY section of freshman composition is closed?! How can I be closed out of freshman comp?!! I’m a freshman!!”)

Desperate, I had no choice but to ignore my mother’s cardinal rule.

The key to a successful college career, she had declared, was to push off taking the dreaded speech class (a general requirement for all Stern students) until one’s senior year, in hope that the academic powers-that-be would somehow be inspired to change the requirements and allow one to graduate without it.

(The fact that speech was still a requirement nearly two decades after my mother had graduated Stern should have been my first clue that the strategy was doomed to fail. But I digress…)

But since there wasn’t too much else left to take that first semester, I was forced to sign up for speech.

(Postscript: The silver lining was that during our senior year, when all my friends were groaning their way through speech, I had the smug self-satisfaction of knowing that I no longer had to deal with that misery. But once again I digress…)

But B”H, in the intervening years -  during which time I graduated college; YZG and I got married; we made aliyah; I started a blog; I neglected that blog; and so on – I was gradually able to come to terms with my, ahem, ordeal.

You see, I was secure in the comforting belief that technological advances would ensure that the Shiputzim kids would be spared the same registration trauma.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, when the Studentit called home in the middle of the day.

Registration for the spring semester had just opened, and she was having trouble registering. Could I please help her, she wondered.

Suffice it to say that although the Studentit attends an internationally-acclaimed institution of higher learning, which boasts some of the country’s finest engineering and computing minds, she and I spent the next two hours glued to our respective computer screens, as the supposedly sophisticated online registration system crashed ignobly right before our very eyes.

It seems the French may be on to something with their whole “plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose” thing (i.e. אֵין כָּל חָדָש תַחַת הַשָמֶש – for the Biblically-oriented amongst you).

[raises glass]

Well, here’s hoping that the registration system improves by the time  the Shiputzim grandchildren (BA”H) are ready for it…

Pa’am Shlishit Glidah

Warning: The following post has been flagged by the relevant authorities for ignoring local culinary conventions. Proceed at your own risk.

After all these years in Israel, I like to think of myself as a real Israeli.

But then along comes the storm of the century, and while all self-respecting sabras instinctively turn their attentions to proper winter foods like sahlab, crembos, and hot soup, I instead choose to blog about… {lowers voice and shifts eyes furtively from side to side} well, about ice cream.

However, lest you think that I’m deliberately trying to defy native cultural norms, I should explain that here in TRLEOOB*, we recently acquired a brand new ice cream maker.

<brief explanatory interjection> About 15 years ago, we switched from individual Chanukah presents to one or two larger presents for the entire family. What’s your family’s approach to Chanukah presents? </interjection>

Yet, as it so happened, OS (=Our Soldier) spent the entire Chanukah on his base.

We thus decided to wait to taste our homemade ice cream (recipes below) until he came home the week after Chanukah, and we had our “Post-Chanukah Chanukah Family Celebration and Ice Cream Party”:

Upon hearing about our delayed celebration, guest blogger Malke asked if I thought that the ice cream maker was worth it and if it’s difficult to use.

Here’s what I told her:

“In a nutshell, it’s definitely worth it. Without exaggeration, we all thought that it rated among the best ice cream we've ever had - the taste, the texture, the flavor, it's all good. And pricewise, homemade ice cream comes out significantly cheaper per liter than the bought stuff (once you factor out the cost of the machine itself, of course). It's also not very difficult to make. Obviously, it's not as easy as hopping in the car and taking a container of ice cream out of the makolet’s freezer section, but it's fairly straightforward.”

Homemade (Philadelphia Style) Ice Cream

Philadelphia style ice cream (as opposed to custard style ice cream) has no eggs. These recipes were adapted from a combination of several different sources.

Vanilla Ice Cream

• 1½ cups whipping cream (i.e. shamenet metukah, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you)
• 1¼ cups whole milk (we used 3% milk)
• ¾ cup sugar
• 1½ tsp vanilla extract

Chocolate Ice Cream

• 1½ cups whipping cream (i.e. shamenet metukah, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you)
• 3/5 cup whole milk (we used 3% milk)
• ½ cup sugar
• 2½ TBSP cocoa
• 140 grams bittersweet chocolate – coarsely chopped
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Coffee Ice Cream

• 1½ cups whipping cream (i.e. shamenet metukah, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you)
• 1¼ cups whole milk (we used 3% milk)
• ¾ cup sugar
• 1¼ TBSP instant coffee (we used decaf)
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions

Mix all the ingredients in a small pot over medium heat until the mixture is smooth and just beginning to form tiny bubbles. Remove from heat and refrigerate for a few hours or even overnight.

Pour the mixture into the ice cream maker and churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Freeze overnight before serving.

!בתאבון

___________

*TRLEOOB=the real life equivalent of our blog

Sharing the mitzvah

When several individuals were recently arrested for draft dodging, crowds of extremist chareidim took to the streets in bizarre defense of their compatriots’ (and by extension, also their own) inexplicable and inexcusable shirking of their civic, moral, ethical, legal, national, and - most of all - halachic responsibilities.

Which is why now would be an excellent time to remind those who choose to forget that serving in the IDF is a mitzvah.

In fact, as Rav Tzvi Yehuda HaKohein Kook zt”l explained, serving in the IDF actually involves two mitzvot - namely:

1) Pikuach Nefesh (saving a life): Note that we’re not just talking about saving a single life but rather about saving the lives of the entire Am Yisrael.
Pikuach nefesh is made up of three separate mitzvot:

1. The positive mitzvah of saving lives. (See Vayikra 18:5.)
2. The prohibition against “standing idly by the blood of your fellow.” (See Vayikra 19:16).
3. The positive mitzvah of hashavat aveidah (returning lost property – see Devarim 22:2). Since we must return a person’s property, all the more so must we “restore” his body.

2) Yerushat HaAretz (establishing and maintaining Jewish sovereignty over Eretz Yisrael – see Bamidbar 33:53).

Furthermore,  as the Mishnah (Sotah 8:7) famously teaches, during a milchemet mitzvah (an obligatory war), NO ONE is exempt from serving:

“Everyone goes out [to war] – even a bridegroom from his chamber and a bride from her wedding canopy.” (See also the Rambam - Hilchot Melachim U’Milchamot 7.)

And according to most (all?) authorities, the current situation constitutes a milchemet mitzvah.

Sadly, however, many believe (or pretend to believe) that none of the above matters, because of their false claim that “the IDF isn’t an appropriate environment for religious or chareidi soldiers” [sic].

But as I showed in my IDF myths and facts post, such a claim is simply untrue and, IMHO, even slanderous.

So what, then, is the halachic source for widespread military exemption? In other words, is there any heter (halachic justification or license) for not serving in the IDF?

Some cite the Gemara (BT Bava Batra 7b), which states that unlike the other residents, Torah scholars don’t have to pay to build a wall to protect their city. But Rabbi Riskin explains that this source can’t be used to justify military exemptions for Torah scholars:

“This [Gemara] would seem to imply that the Torah serves as a protective shield, and from this perspective, perhaps scholars ought be freed from military service. However, the Talmudic commentaries (most notably, the Baalei Tosafot ad loc as well as the Hazon Ish) insist that the exemption is only from payment for protection against thieves; if the wall is necessary for protection from murderers, even the scholars must contribute, because ‘we dare not rely on miracles.’”

Meanwhile, others quote the Rambam (Hilchot Shmitah V’Yovel 13), who states that talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars or sages) resemble Shevet Levi (the Tribe of Levi) and are thus exempted from military service.

However:

1. Shevet Levi was only exempted from fighting in order to serve as teachers, and the Leviim were still required to provide logistical, spiritual, and moral support during times of war. (See here for more details.)
2. It is highly unlikely (read: virtually impossible) that the ENTIRE chareidi community, en masse, rates as “talmidei chachamim.” After all, in today’s world, very few people (with the exception of a few leading Torah giants) can honestly look themselves in the mirror and say that they meet the Rambam’s very specific criteria for talmidei chachamim.

In other words, there is no real source or halachic justification for not serving in the IDF.

Yet, nevertheless, learning Torah is also a very important mitzvah, and as Rabbi Riskin observes:

“There is no doubt that the study of Torah is of crucial importance and the greatest guarantor of the future of the Jewish people.”

However, any discussion of learning Torah in lieu of serving in the IDF must be predicated on two things:

• An acknowledgement that any exemption from military service is actually an exemption from doing a mitzvah.
• A sincere and vocal hakarat hatov (literally, “recognizing the good” – i.e. gratitude and appreciation) for those who dedicate their lives to serving and defending Am Yisrael in Eretz Yisrael, according to Torat Yisrael, and thereby enable their brothers to sit and learn Torah.

***

Your thoughts?
(Please keep it civil. Thanks!)

 

But what’s the source?

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for controversial topics. Proceed at your own risk.

In general, those who feel that not one of Israel’s chareidim should ever have to serve in the IDF tend to base their position on two separate claims:

1. The chareidim’s* Torah learning provides a metaphysical protection that equals - or perhaps even exceeds - the IDF. (*Note the implication that it’s only THEIR Torah learning that counts. Apparently, neither hesder yeshivot nor working people who are kovei’a itim – i.e. regularly dedicate time in their busy weekly and daily schedules to Torah learning – have this power. But I digress…)
2. The IDF is not an appropriate environment for religious or chareidi soldiers.

However, Rav Natan Slifkin recently highlighted the contradictions and inconsistencies inherent in the former claim, and in my post about the IDF and religious soldiers, I tried to show that the latter claim is simply untrue.

Which raises a key question that no one seems to be able to answer:

What is the halachic source for such a widespread military exemption? In other words, is there any heter (halachic justification or license) for not serving in the IDF?

After all, many (most?) authorities concur that the current situation constitutes a milchemet mitzvah (an obligatory war), when NO ONE is exempt from serving.

As the Mishnah (Sotah 8:7) famously teaches, during a milchemet mitzvah:

“Everyone goes out [to war] – even a bridegroom from his chamber and a bride from her wedding canopy.” (See also the Rambam - Hilchot Melachim U’Milchamot 7.)

And even if one disagrees and holds that the current situation is not akin to a milchemet mitzvah but is “merely” a milchemet reshut (a “voluntary” war), there still would not be a blanket exemption for chareidim.

The Rambam (Hilchot Melachim U’Milchamot 7) lists four very specific categories of individuals who are exempted from serving during a milchemet reshut, but learning Torah is not one of them.

Admittedly, some interpret the Rambam at the end of Hilchot Shmitah V’Yovel to mean that talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars or sages) resemble Shevet Levi (the Tribe of Levi) and are thus exempted from military service.

However:

1. Many commentators disagree with this interpretation.
2. Shevet Levi was still required to provide logistical, spiritual, and moral support. (See here for more details.)
3. It is very hard to say that the ENTIRE chareidi community, en masse, meets the criteria of “talmidei chachamim.”

So our question remains: What’s the source/halachic justification for not serving in the IDF?

I would suggest that it doesn’t exist…

***

Your thoughts?
(Please keep it civil. Thanks!)

______________

P.S. The latest Kosher Cooking Carnival is available here. Special thanks to Batya for including my French coffee cake post.

P.S.S. The latest JPiX carnival is available here. Special thanks to Leora for including three of my posts: Nov, Hevron, and the wheat harvest.

Myths and Facts

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for opinion pieces by bloggers who have absolutely no business writing about controversial topics and who should stick to things like Heblish. Proceed at your own risk.

Featured prominently in the recent elections and apparently the main focus of the current coalition negotiations, universal conscription - aka “sharing the burden” – is now a hot topic here in Israel.

As I have mentioned several times, YZG and I are the very proud parents of a hesder yeshiva student/soldier, and thus, you won’t be surprised to hear that I firmly believe that hesder is the ideal answer to this issue.

However, I respect the fact that other people see things differently, but nevertheless, I think that there are two fundamental principles that we all can agree upon:

1. For various reasons, the status quo is untenable and unsustainable (both in the long term and in the short term).
2. Trying to modify the status quo through coercion (religious OR secular) will only backfire.

Yet, unfortunately, many political and communal leaders – including those who should know better – refuse to acknowledge one or both of these principles and have even resorted to what can only be described as misrepresentations, slander, and outright lies.

Here, then, is my humble attempt at setting the record straight:

IDF Myths and Facts

The following is based on the experiences of the CTO and his friends.

MYTH: The IDF has it in for religious soldiers.
FACT: Not only does the army go out of its way to make sure that religious soldiers are given sufficient time to daven three times a day and to bench after every meal, but consider the following true stories: (I know each of the soldiers involved personally.)

• Soldier A’s unit was based down south, on the border, on Yom Kippur. Due to the extreme heat, not drinking would definitely lead to severe dehydration within a relatively short amount of time, and therefore, according to Jewish law, the soldiers were required to drink. However, each soldier carried a small army-issued vial in his pocket to ensure that he drink less than a “shiur” of water at a time. (CYLOR for details.)
• Soldier B spent Yom Kippur on a remote, secluded base. On Erev Yom Kippur, the army provided a bus to take the religious soldiers to the nearest town – so that they could immerse in the mikvah.
• Soldier C reports that before Succot, the army built a beautiful, large succah on his base. Not only was there plenty of room for everyone to eat in the succah, but there was also room for sleeping. The army even provided the soldiers with cots! Also, there were more than enough sets of Arba Minim to go around, and before Hoshanah Rabah, the army gave each soldier an additional set of aravot.
• Soldier D participated in an advanced training course, which involved numerous written tests on the material covered. However, during chol hamoed, the tests were given on the computer.

Note that in all four cases, the soldiers didn’t request any considerations. The army simply granted them automatically.

***

MYTH: The IDF has no interest in making allowances for chareidi soldiers and their stringencies.
FACT: Already today, the food on a surprising number of bases is “mehadrin,” and the army has made it quite clear that it is prepared to increase that number if/when there is a demand.

Also, quietly and without fanfare, the army has been preparing for an influx of chareidim. For instance, male soldiers (including hesdernikim with low medical profiles) are being assigned to some of the positions traditionally filled by women (such as interviewing new recruits, training, etc.). The idea behind this move is to ensure that chareidi soldiers won’t have to compromise on their principles of strict gender segregation.

***

MYTH: Yeshivot hesder can’t be compared to “real” [sic] yeshivas.
FACT: By any objective standard – e.g. the level of learning; the students’ skills, dedication, commitment, knowledge, and love of Torah learning; and the caliber, stature, and reputation of the roshei yeshiva and ram”im – the hesder yeshivas rank among Israel’s top yeshivot.

***

MYTH: The IDF is working to disband the hesder units.
FACT: The IDF’s top brass clearly consider the hesdernikim to be some of the army’s best and most motivated soldiers and recognize that the vast majority of hesdernikim volunteer for combat units and are among the first to show up for reserve duty.

Moreover, the IDF is slowly opening up additional branches of the military (e.g. the navy) to hesder soldiers.

***

MYTH: The IDF has enough soldiers and therefore doesn’t need the chareidim.
FACT: Even a layman can understand that a bigger army is a stronger army.

But even if one accepts the premise that there’s no room in the IDF for more than a specific number of soldiers, a larger draft pool will result in a higher-quality army. (After all, the army will have the luxury of choosing the best possible soldiers.)

Also, a surplus of soldiers can mean shortened military service and less reserve duty for everyone.

***

MYTH: Soldiers tend to become less observant/religious while in the army.
FACT: The opposite is true for hesder soldiers.

Since the yeshivot prepare them - religiously, spiritually, halachically, mentally, emotionally, and psychologically - for their upcoming military service, hesdernikim know what they’re getting into and are acutely aware of the fact that they’re fighting for Am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael according to Torat Yisrael.

Also, the yeshivot stay in touch with their beloved chayalim throughout their military service - via weekly newsletters, phone calls, and even personal visits from the yeshiva’s rabbis to the army bases.

***

Your thoughts?
(Please keep it civil. Thanks!)

More signs that your son is an IDF soldier

As you may (or may not) recall, a few weeks ago, I posted a list of the top 10 signs that your son is an IDF soldier.

But in the wake of recent events, I think it’s time to update the list.

Thus, the Our Shiputzim Editorial Board proudly presents:

Five MORE Signs That Your Son* Is an IDF Soldier

(*Or Daughter)

1) Your son spent the week of Operation Pillar of Defense hanging out along the Gaza border.

2) You spent the week of Operation Pillar of Defense being, well, very much aware that your son was hanging out along the Gaza border and the week after Operation Pillar of Defense comparing notes with parents of other IDF soldiers who had been hanging out along the Gaza border.

3) Although ultimately, you’re just as unimpressed by the current ceasefire as you were by the ceasefire that ended Operation Cast Lead, you notice that your views and opinions are more nuanced and less black and white than they were four years ago.

4) Your son reports that during the war, not only did the rations include the requisite canned corn, tunafish, chumus, and MREs (i.e. cham-gashiyot for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you) with schnitzel, but there also seemed to be plenty of Crembos to go around…

5) While doing the aforementioned hanging out, your son bumped into numerous friends, neighbors, former classmates, and assorted acquaintances. (In other words, he got a lot of points.) Clearly, the Gaza border was THE place to see and be seen…

P.S. In case you missed it, here’s the original top 10 list.

Déjà vu?

From the moment the IDF launched Operation Pillar of Defense, the pundits have been comparing it to 2009’s Operation Cast Lead.

And to a certain extent, one can see where they’re coming from.

After all, once again, Israel faces the same cruel, merciless enemy.

Once again, the casus belli is the enemy’s vicious and relentless targeting of innocent Israeli civilians, while using their own civilians as so-called human shields (i.e. a double war crime).

Once again, Israeli men, women, and children are forced to cower in stairwells, bomb shelters, and security rooms.

Once again, an ever-growing number of beloved Israeli fathers, sons, and brothers are being called up to defend the country.

Once again, Israelis have opened their hearts and homes to our beleaguered brethren in the line of fire and are collecting desperately-needed supplies and treats for the soldiers on the front lines.

Once again, much of the world is rushing to condemn Israel for fictitious atrocities and promoting an obscene moral “equivalence” between sadistic terrorists and the IDF, who is – by every objective standard – the most moral and ethical army on the entire planet.

Once again, Israelis are walking around with the same fortitude and grim determination to get the job done.

Yet, as far as we’re concerned here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog), there are several major differences between this week and four years ago.

It’s that the enemy is now firing missiles with longer ranges and that sirens and booms are now being heard in a much larger section of the country (including the area where our favorite bat sherut now finds herself).

It’s that this time around, we are B”H blessed with a very different government and prime minister, and that hopefully, HaKadosh Baruch Hu will grant them the strength and the courage to stay the course.

And it’s that after being told to keep his phone on over Shabbat, OS (=Our Soldier) finally got the call a few hours after Havdalah, and since then, he has been spending his days somewhere along the Gaza border.

May Hashem watch over and protect him and all our courageous men and women in uniform and keep them all safe and sound!

מִי שֶׁבֵּרַךְ אֲבוֹתֵינוּ אַבְרָהָם יִצְחָק וְיַעֲקֹב הוּא יְבָרֵךְ אֶת חַיָּלֵי צְבָא הֲגַנָּה לְיִשְׂרָאֵל, הָעוֹמְדִים עַל מִשְׁמַר אַרְצֵנוּ וְעָרֵי אֱלקינוּ מִגְּבוּל הַלְּבָנוֹן וְעַד מִדְבַּר מִצְרַיִם וּמִן הַיָּם הַגָּדוֹל עַד לְבוֹא הָעֲרָבָה בַּיַּבָּשָׁה בָּאֲוִיר וּבַיָּם. יִתֵּן ה' אֶת אוֹיְבֵינוּ הַקָּמִים עָלֵינוּ נִגָּפִים לִפְנֵיהֶם. הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא יִשְׁמֹר וְיַצִּיל אֶת חַיָלֵינוּ מִכָּל צָרָה וְצוּקָה וּמִכָּל נֶגַע וּמַחְלָה וְיִשְׁלַח בְּרָכָה וְהַצְלָחָה בְּכָל מַעֲשֵׂה יְדֵיהֶם. יַדְבֵּר שׂוֹנְאֵינוּ תַּחְתֵּיהֶם וִיעַטְרֵם בְּכֶתֶר יְשׁוּעָה וּבְעֲטֶרֶת נִצָּחוֹן. וִיקֻיַּם בָּהֶם הַכָּתוּב: כִּי ה' אֱלֹקיכֶם הַהֹלֵךְ עִמָּכֶם לְהִלָּחֵם לָכֶם עִם איבֵיכֶם לְהוֹשִׁיעַ אֶתְכֶם, וְנאמַר אָמֵן.

Top 10 signs your son is in the army

The Our Shiputzim Editorial Board proudly presents:

The Top 10 Signs That Your Son* Is an IDF Soldier

(*Or Daughter)

10) His speech is liberally peppered with acronyms (i.e. roshei teivot for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you).

9) Not only have you started to recognize some of those acronyms, but you even know what a handful of them mean.

8) You’ve considered adding a new skill to your LinkedIn profile: washing army uniforms.

7) You’ve convinced yourself that there’s no need to iron those uniforms.

6) Mathematicians may insist that the shortest route between any two given points is a straight line, but you’ve learned that in the army, traveling home from one’s base involves zigzagging across the country and changing buses at countless obscure junctions and intersections.

5) You’ve long since ceased to be surprised that the army functions in a seemingly-constant state of balagan (loosely, disorganization)…

4) Somehow, you’ve suddenly been transformed into the stereotypical Jewish mother (aka an imma Polaniyah – a Polish mother – in the local vernacular). Whenever you speak to your son, you find yourself asking, “But are you SURE you’re getting enough to eat?” (Although to be perfectly fair, a certain hesdernik of my acquaintance is actually eating better now in the army than he did when he was in his yeshiva. Of course, that’s not really saying much… :-))

3) Many of the country’s burning political issues have become far less academic and theoretical and far more personal and relevant. (More on this, perhaps, in a future post.)

2) You finally feel like a “real” Israeli.

1) Every time your son walks through the front door, you’re once again amazed and filled with tremendous gratitude to HaKadosh Baruch Hu that the tall, handsome (BA”H) soldier standing before you is the same tiny baby boy you held in your arms all those years ago.

May Hashem watch over and protect all our soldiers and keep them all safe and sound.

_____________

P.S. Looking for “the Israeli view of yesterday’s US elections?” Here’s my take:

”.על מי לנו להשען? על אבינו שבשמים”
“On Whom can we rely? On our Father in Heaven.” (BT Sotah 49a)

Heblish: The Emptying Nest Edition

You might think that since TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog) is relatively empty these days – seeing as how one Shiputzim kid is in the army and a second is doing sherut leumi (national service) – we’ve experienced a significant decrease in our Heblish levels.

But you would be wrong.

Because as it turns out, the younger Shiputzim kids are more than capable of coining plenty of new Heblishisms all on their own.

In fact, the Heblish has been flying so fast and furious around here that I believe it’s time we had a Heblish theme song. You know, perhaps something like this?

Sample Heblish Theme Song
(To the tune of “The Impossible Dream”)

To dreeeeeam that you speak fluent English.
To mangle two languages instead.
To ignore all the known rules of syntax.
To translate each and every word literally.

This is your quest: to cause your Anglo parents to wince.
No matter how awkward, no matter how wrong,
To fight for the right, without question or pause,
To always use Heblish, regardless of grammatical laws.

But I’m certainly open to other ideas… :-)

And in the meantime, here’s yet another batch of entries from the Official Our Shiputzim Heblish-English Dictionary:

Slowly by slowly: Hebrew source – לאט לאט. English definition – Little by little. Sample usage - “I moved the stuff over slowly by slowly.”

Yell on: Hebrew source – צעק על. English definition – Yell at. Sample usage - “The substitute teacher spent the whole day yelling on the class.”

Switch: Hebrew source – להחליף. English definition – Trade. Sample usage - “We switched stickers in recess today.” (See also this post, which shows that “switch” can also mean “substitute.”)

Israelit: Hebrew source – ישראלית. English definition – Israeli (fem.). Sample usage -“She doesn’t speak English. She’s an Israelit.”

And while we’re at it - and because Heblish spans households and dialects - here are a couple of reader submissions:

To my opinion: Hebrew source – לדעתי. English definition – In my opinion. Sample usage –“To my opinion, that’s the best way to do it.” (Hat tip: Miriyummy)

Comfortable: Hebrew source – נוח. English definition – Convenient. Sample usage – “I'm not coming home for Shabbat this week. It's more comfortable for me to come next week.” (Hat tip: Mother in Israel)

Thanks, everyone, and please keep all those excellent Heblishisms coming! I’d love to include them in a future Heblish post. You can leave a comment on this post or send an email to OurShiputzim at gmail dot com.

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Previous Heblish editions are available here: Heblish I, Heblish II, Heblish III, Heblish IV, Heblish V, Heblish VI, Heblish VII, Heblish VIII, Heblish IX, Heblish X, Heblish XI, Heblish XII, Heblish XIII, Heblish XIV, Heblish XV, Heblish XVI, Heblish XVII, Heblish XVIII, Heblish XIX, and Heblish XX.

Becoming a “real” Israeli

As many of you know, here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog), we’ve B”H reached a very significant milestone:

The first of the Shiputzim kids started his army service this week.

If I wasn’t busy shamelessly neglecting my blog, maybe I’d try to describe some of the different things I’m feeling right now. Thankfully, however, I don’t have to, because Guest Blogger Malke did just that in a beautiful guest post a couple of years ago.

Yet, nevertheless, there’s one thing I WOULD like to discuss.

You see, until now, I considered the first time I gave birth in Israel to be the moment that I had become a “real” Israeli.

But having a son in the IDF takes one’s, well, Israeliness (if that’s a word…) to a whole new level.

Because, IMHO, there’s something so poignantly, sweetly, intensely, and wonderfully Israeli about the whole thing.

It’s that on the Shabbat before OS (=Our Soldier) was inducted, he was called up to the Torah in shul and received a warm brachah (blessing) in the announcements after davening.

It’s that the army tries very hard to allow the new recruits to spend their first Shabbat as soldiers at home.

It’s that OS has been together with a number of the guys in his unit since first grade.

It’s that when we took OS to his giyus (induction), we met several friends and acquaintances, who were there dropping their own sons off. (In other words, we got some points…)

It’s that one of the well-respected rabbis from OS’s hesder yeshiva came to the giyus to see his talmidim (students) off.

It’s that over the past few weeks, everyone – and by “everyone,” I mean family, friends, neighbors, the owner of the local makolet (supermarket), coworkers, the mailman, and anyone else you could possibly think of – gave OS (and us!) lots of helpful advice and heartfelt good wishes.

It’s that one of the things on OS’s list was extra army socks, but I had no idea where to purchase them. So we tried a nearby dry goods store, and sure enough, they had exactly what we were looking for.

It’s that the induction point boasts a food concession stand and a covered picnic area for all the families who come to drop off their children.

It’s that the army makes sure that the religious soldiers have enough time to daven three times a day, and that all the larger bases have fully-outfitted shuls – complete with a Sefer Torah, plenty of siddurim, and even a collection of seforim for learning.

It’s that OS made a point of taking a pocket Mishnah with him to the army.

It’s that the recruits’ commanders make home visits to check out where their soldiers live.

It’s that at the giyus, YZG was far from the only father lovingly giving his son a brachah.

It’s that before the giyus, OS’s yeshiva arranged a very special two-week-long pre-army program – to prepare the guys religiously, spiritually, halachically, mentally, emotionally, and psychologically for their upcoming military service.

It’s that OS and his fellow Torah scholars/soldiers are deeply aware that it is both an honor and a responsibility to be serving and defending Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael, and Torat Yisrael.

מִי שֶׁבֵּרַךְ אֲבוֹתֵינוּ אַבְרָהָם יִצְחָק וְיַעֲקֹב הוּא יְבָרֵךְ אֶת חַיָּלֵי צְבָא הֲגַנָּה לְיִשְׂרָאֵל, הָעוֹמְדִים עַל מִשְׁמַר אַרְצֵנוּ וְעָרֵי אֱלקינוּ מִגְּבוּל הַלְּבָנוֹן וְעַד מִדְבַּר מִצְרַיִם וּמִן הַיָּם הַגָּדוֹל עַד לְבוֹא הָעֲרָבָה בַּיַּבָּשָׁה בָּאֲוִיר וּבַיָּם. יִתֵּן ה' אֶת אוֹיְבֵינוּ הַקָּמִים עָלֵינוּ נִגָּפִים לִפְנֵיהֶם. הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא יִשְׁמֹר וְיַצִּיל אֶת חַיָלֵינוּ מִכָּל צָרָה וְצוּקָה וּמִכָּל נֶגַע וּמַחְלָה וְיִשְׁלַח בְּרָכָה וְהַצְלָחָה בְּכָל מַעֲשֵׂה יְדֵיהֶם. יַדְבֵּר שׂוֹנְאֵינוּ תַּחְתֵּיהֶם וִיעַטְרֵם בְּכֶתֶר יְשׁוּעָה וּבְעֲטֶרֶת נִצָּחוֹן. וִיקֻיַּם בָּהֶם הַכָּתוּב: כִּי ה' אֱלֹקיכֶם הַהֹלֵךְ עִמָּכֶם לְהִלָּחֵם לָכֶם עִם איבֵיכֶם לְהוֹשִׁיעַ אֶתְכֶם, וְנאמַר אָמֵן.

May Hashem watch over and protect OS, his friends, and all our soldiers and keep them all safe and sound.

The Parental Guide to Sherut Leumi

By all accounts, Sherut Leumi (National Service) is generally a rewarding and enjoyable experience for the young volunteers.

But the application process the year before?

Well, that’s a completely different story. An absurd, ridiculous, and downright inane story. A story that often involves disappointment, frustration, and even tears.

A story that begs for a blog post of its own…

And thus, we here at Our Shiputzim proudly present:

The Official Sherut Leumi Lexicon

Shministit (שמיניסטית) – Literally, one belonging to the shminit – i.e. the eighth. Refers to a high school senior (fem.). The term is actually a vestigial throwback to the gymnasia system. The first form was the equivalent of today’s fifth grade, and the final – or eighth – form corresponded to today’s twelfth grade.

Bat sherut (בת שרות) – A Sherut Leumi volunteer.

Agudah (אגודה) – Literally, an association. Refers to one of the Sherut Leumi supervisory organizations. There are currently three primary agudot which cater exclusively to National-Religious young women. Each agudah has a separate catalogue of Sherut Leumi positions throughout the country. (Although three agudot may seem like overkill, competition between the three actually benefits the bnot sherut.)

K’sherit/Megasheret/Mekasharet (קשרית\מגשרת\מקשרת) - Literally, a liaison. (Yes, there are – at least – three different names for the same thing…) Refers to the agudah’s representative who comes to the ulpanot and helps the shministiyot figure out what they want to do during Sherut Leumi. Each agudah sends its own mekasheret, and thus the shministiyot have to meet with all three mekashrot. The mekashrot are often young and inexperienced (our neighbor’s 21-year-old daughter currently works as a mekasheret in a local ulpanah) and tend to come up with rather amusing suggestions for the girls. (I’ll leave it to A Mother in Israel to elaborate…)

Teken (תקן) – Literally, a standard. Refers to a Sherut Leumi position. Different institutions have different numbers of tkanim. In other words, the number of tkanim an institution has is the number of bnot sherut that institution can hire for the following year.

Popular positions – Certain Sherut Leumi positions are considered to be highly desirable. This reputation is largely undeserved and is based solely on hearsay. In practice, this means that shministiyot applying to any of these positions are likely to face rejection…

Sayaret (סיירת) – Literally, a reconnaissance tour. The shministiyot go on sayarot in order to check out potential positions and to be interviewed. Each institution is only allowed to invite a limited number of candidates to a particular sayeret. The precise number is determined by the number of tkanim.

Dirat sherut (דירת שרות) – The apartment where the bnot sherut live during their Sherut Leumi year.

Rakezet (רכזת) - The local coordinator or supervisor who takes care of the bnot sherut and the dirat sherut. The rakezet is employed by the agudah.

Website – Where the shministiyot must register for most of the sayarot (except for the ones that require preregistration, advance registration, and/or special invitation…). Registration begins at a specific time on a specific day. In recent years, it’s been at 6:00 PM on a given Tuesday. Which means that starting at 5:30 PM on that fateful day, girls across the country sit in front of their computers, hands hovering above their keyboards, as they wait anxiously for H-Hour to arrive - so they can quickly register for a sayaret at one of the popular positions before all the spots fill up.

“We upgraded our system, and it won’t crash.”- A statement made by an agudah official to a group of parents at a certain ulpanah earlier this year. Note that she said this without the slightest hint of irony – even though this is exactly what the agudot insisted last year… and the year before that… and the year before that… Also note that this year, out of the three agudot, only one’s system did in fact crash – and was down for over two hours - on that critical Tuesday evening: The very same agudah whose official made the aforementioned claim…

“What a crazy system!” – A phrase uttered repeatedly by, er, a certain Anglo mother of my acquaintance over the past few months…

What would you add to this lexicon?

And in conclusion, this blog’s editorial board and writing staff would like to take this opportunity to extend a hearty mazal tov to our favorite shministit, who recently, um, closed on (sorry, but the English just doesn’t have quite the same connotation as the Heblish…) a very exciting position for next year IY”H.

Best wishes to her and her classmates for continued success in all their future endeavors!

The Resident Ulpanistit’s Day Off

Just about two years ago, I blogged about the fact that Israeli high school seniors have almost no classes during the second half of the school year, and I noted that, ironically, a certain then-senior spent a weekday afternoon watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

Fast forward to the past couple of weeks, when a different high school senior of my acquaintance – namely, the Resident Ulpanistit - has been going on “sayarot” (i.e. going on interviews for Sherut Leumi (National Service) for next year IY”H) and, as a result, has missed quite a few days of school.

Thus, the following Super Bowl ad seems highly appropriate for today:

And in the meantime, watch this space for a full post about the Sherut Leumi application process in all its absurd, inane, and completely ridiculous glory.

B”N, I hope to finish said post as soon as the Resident Ulpanistit, well, “closes on” (if you’ll excuse my Heblish) a specific position…

Gebrochts for the rest of us

Having the CTO home from yeshiva for bein hazmanim (yeshiva vacation) means that:

1. I can start using emoticons again…
   
2. He spent the day whipping up… not one, not two, not three, but - count 'em! - four batches of Pesach rolls. (Kol hakavod!)

As I may have mentioned in passing never let YZG forget, we don’t eat gebrochts.

However, as I noted in my original gebrochts post:

“We’re not fanatic about no gebrochts. Basically, the only thing we avoid is matzah mixed with water. Other liquids are fine. For instance, [we] make Pesach rolls with not-from-concentrate orange juice…”

   Technically-Not-Gebrochts Matzah Meal Pesach Rolls

These rolls  taste best when warmed up in the microwave and served with generous amounts of butter and are also good for taking along on chol hamo’ed trips.

Ingredients

• ¼ cup oil
• 1 cup orange juice (freshly squeezed or not-from-concentrate)
• ¾ tsp salt
• 2.5 TBSP sugar
• 1¾ heaping cups matzah meal
• 4 eggs
• 2 heaping tsp kosher l’Pesach baking powder (i.e. one envelope for my Israeli readers)

Directions

Put oil, juice, salt, and sugar in a pot, and bring to a boil. Remove from heat, and immediately add the matzah meal. (Have it prepared in advance.) Mix well with a heavy wooden spoon. Add eggs, one at a time, and beat well between each addition. Add baking powder and mix through.

Make out rolls (using dry hands), and place on baking-paper lined pan. Bake at 400 degrees for 45 minutes.

Yields: 10-12 rolls. Freezes well.

!בתאבון

Here comes the trolley

Guest blogger Malke recently experienced a new low in higher education.

Take it away, Malke!

On the Right Track?

A Guest Post by Malke

This week, I began teaching, for the second time, a course in medical ethics to nursing students at one of the country's colleges.

Like last year, I began with a famous problem in ethics known as "The Trolley Problem" - except that I call it "The Train Problem," because I don’t know how to say trolley in Hebrew… :-)

Basically, it goes like this: There’s a train (or trolley) speeding down the tracks, and tied to the tracks are 5 innocent people.

You don’t have time to stop the train or to untie the people. But you can flip a switch that will divert the train to another track, where there’s only one person tied. What do you do?

The point is to get the students discussing the problem and the moral differences between their answers.

The discussion was going rather well… until one student raised her hand.

The following represents the ensuing dialogue between me and said student - whom, I will remind you, is IN COLLEGE:

Student: You don’t have to do anything, because the conductor will know how to stop the train in time.

Me: No, he won’t.

Student: No, no, he will. They learn how to do that.

Me: Okay, there’s no conductor in the train.

Student: How can you drive a train without a conductor?

******

Thanks, Malke!

Your student’s parents must be so proud…

What’s the rush?

Some of you may have thought I was exaggerating when I reported that many Israeli yeshiva high school seniors don’t make up their minds about their future plans until the very last minute.

Well, consider the following exchange, which took place here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog) on Shabbat:

The CTO: {mentions that one of his former classmates is visiting our community}

Me: {casually} Oh? That’s nice. What’s he doing this coming year?

The CTO: {nonchalantly} He hasn’t decided yet.

Me: {flabbergasted} Um, isn’t Rosh Chodesh next week?!

The CTO: {shrugs} It’s not like he doesn’t know at all! I mean, he HAS narrowed it down to a few choices…

!שבוע טוב

Have a wonderful week!

_________

The latest Haveil Havalim is available here. Special thanks to Eric for including my take on shopping in Israel – aka everyone’s favorite game show, Name Thaaaat Country!

Name That Country!

Okay, contestants! We’ve reached the third and final round of “Name. Thaaaaat. Country!”

{applause sign lights up, and studio audience cheers accordingly}

Now, you know the drill.

{contestants nod and try to look intelligent}

The talented “Name That Country!” Players will act out a scene, and you’ll then have sixty seconds on the clock to correctly name. thaaaaat. country!

And for those of you out there, playing along at home {flashes impossibly white teeth directly at the camera}, we’re going to help you out with some clues, which will appear on your TV screens during the scene.

Okay, let me see. {consults card} Today’s scene takes place in a luggage shop.

Aaaaand action!

{Scene: A luggage shop}

Saleswoman: {notices a family of customers and heads over to assist them} Good morning. Can I help you?

Father: Yes, thank you. We’re interested in a 90-liter capacity backpack.

Saleswoman: {surprised} Really? What do you need it for?

Son: It’s for me, for next year.

Saleswoman: {glances quickly at the young man} To travel to and from yeshiva?

[Clue #1 – Unlike certain nurses, the pants-wearing saleswoman has no problem recognizing the son’s kippah and tzitzit.]

Son: Yes.

Saleswoman: Great. But you don’t need such a big knapsack for that! Why don’t I show you some of our smaller and cheaper models?

[Clue #2 – The saleswoman doesn’t want the customers to waste their money on unnecessary purchases.]

Mother: Oh, thanks, but I think we prefer one of these bigger ones.

Saleswoman: {to son} How often are you going to be coming home? Every other Shabbat, no?

[Clue #3 – The seemingly-secular saleswoman is familiar with the concept of a Shabbat yeshiva.]

Son: Actually, every third Shabbat.

Saleswoman: {raises eyebrows} Oy! Then you’re right! You DO need a 90-liter bag! So, here are the different options..

Customers: {choose an appropriate knapsack}

Saleswoman:{ringing up the sale} But I still don’t understand these yeshivot. I mean, boys need to be home more than once every three weeks. The yeshivot should really let them go more often…

[Clue #4 – Underneath that professional exterior, the saleswoman is really a Jewish mother, or as they say in the vernacular, an “imma Polaniyah” - אמא פולניה – a Polish mother.]

Thank you, “Name That Country!” Players!

And now, contestants, you have sixty seconds…

{clock starts ticking}

60, 59, 58, 57…

Mazal tov: Decision edition

Twelfth grade girls across the country will agree that the Sherut Leumi (National Service) application process is notoriously frustrating*.

Best described as an emotional roller coaster, the process generally involves copious tears, an online registration system which never seems to work, and considerable heartbreak and disappointment.

In stark contrast, when 12th grade boys apply to hesder**, there’s neither aggravation nor frustration.

Or, rather, I should say that there’s no aggravation or frustration for the boys themselves.

But when it comes to their parents – not to mention their assorted grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and other relatives - it’s a whole different story.

You see, the boys’ mantra is “what’s the rush?” – a phrase which is cleverly designed to drive the most easy-going of parents crazy.

Here’s how it works:

The boys spend their senior year going on shvu”shim (i.e. checking out different yeshivot).

And then, as the weeks turn into months, the naive parents casually ask their beloved sons about their plans for the following year.

“Have you made a decision yet?” the parents innocently inquire.

And inevitably, the darling boys reply, “What’s the rush? It’s only Chanukah/Purim/Pesach/Yom HaAtzma’ut, etc. There’s still plenty of time…”

Indeed, one mother (feel free to identify yourself in the comment section, if you so desire) reported that a few years ago, as Rosh Chodesh Elul (i.e. the start of the yeshiva term) rapidly approached, she half-jokingly said to her indecisive son:

“Look. I’ll be more than happy to drive you to your yeshiva on the first day of the zman (term), but where are we going? Can you at least give me a general direction. North? South? East? West?”

Thus, I’m thrilled to announce that this evening, at precisely 8:30 PM, the CTO finally officially registered for next year in one of Israel’s most prestigious hesder yeshivas.

 

!בהצלחה

The Our Shiputzim editorial board extends our best wishes to the CTO and his classmates for continued success  in all their future endeavors.

__________

*Here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog), we’ve not yet experienced this particular cultural phenomenon (i.e Sherut Leumi) firsthand. But if you have – either as a bat sherut or as the parent of a bat sherut – and would like to write a guest post about it, please contact me at the email address listed towards the top of the sidebar to the right.

**I refer specifically to yeshivot hesder, because I’m most familiar with them. However, my understanding is that this post also holds true for the various yeshivot gevohot (of every stripe) and even the mechinot as well.