Young Judaea Year Course - Program In Israel - Margy Stoner - "We're Not In Indianapolis Anymore"

Before I left home, I was definitely ready for independence, and the thought of spending an entire year in Israel--a place very different from the opulent North Side of Indianapolis--was really exciting.

After living here for about a month-and-a-half, though, I have come to adopt a different perspective on what Israeli society really is. The thing that surprises me most about this place is the number of smaller, different "societies" and how they all somehow come together to form a country and a people.

Throughout the past month or so, I have traveled to a number of different places within Israel and have seen a number of different things that have made me feel more "Israeli" than ever before.

During the week of Sukkot, I spent the two days of Simchat Torah in the northern city of Tzfat. While there, I got a sense of the strong mystical Jewish community in Israel. Everywhere I looked, the famous signature of Rabbi Nachman, "Na Nach Nachma Nachman Meuman," was painted in blue. Among the blue doors and old synagogues, I sat on a rooftop with possibly the most beautiful view and stars I had seen since coming to Israel. I noticed that the people in Tzfat, in general, seemed to have a strong sense of peace, such as in the words of Yehuda Amichai, "A peace without the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares, without words."

After the break, we started classes again and began to get ready for midterms. On Tuesdays, my "Zionism in the Arts" class takes weekly siuriim (trips) around the country to examine the history of Zionism through the development of different art forms. Usually we have to drive pretty far, but this particular week we stayed in Jerusalem (where I live) and went to a number of places, including the Museum of Psalms, where we met an extremely religious man who airbrushes art representing the different psalms written by King David (my celebrity crush).

On a more secular note, I spent a night in Tel Aviv at a ska (form of punk-ish music) show. It was really funny and cool to listen to that type of music in Hebrew. While rocking out in the basement venue, I began to think about my time in Tzfat...could this really be the same country?

As I was leaving Tel Aviv the next morning, I was stopped in the middle of the highway. Everyone sat in their cars and on their mopeds for more than 45 minutes without knowing what exactly was going on. One man on a moped started talking to me: "Last time this happened, it was because of a bomb." A bomb?

Contrary to the news and the media's portrayal of life in Israel as dangerous and scary, I feel safe here--maybe, at times, too safe. Because of the small size of the tiny state, the soldiers and security guards and perhaps even the sense of "Jewish unity," I often feel invincible, as most my age do. I went through the motions--waiting patiently, listening to the sounds of the guards shooting at the suspected item and getting the "all clear/false alarm" signal. But unlike all of the Israelis around me, who seemed to be secure, somewhat irritated, but overall understanding, I felt perplexed. This small sidestep in each Israeli's day was not out of the ordinary. It was, in fact, almost normal.

When looking back, I realize what a shame it is that situations like this can become even close to normal. What I have come to respect most about the way people live here is how they live ordinary lives in extraordinary situations. I have never been in Israel during a war, been forced to hide in a bomb shelter or anything of the sort. But I feel like this small event brought me to a greater understanding of what it is to be an Israeli.

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