Silencing the Detractors

Now, some of you, after reading a good number of posts on this site, may infer that I am having a lousy time here. To quote some comments made after reading the 100 things I miss about home:

"It sounds like prison over there." -Avi Samuels

"You should look into sending Yoni to another yeshiva, like Mevaseret." -Jeff "Avrum" Rabin

"Two thumbs down!" -Ebert and Roeper

Now, some this may stem from what people call pessimism. In my opinion, I call it realism. And when I criticize, I do so to achieve an end, and to bring about a change, not just to complain. Well, maybe not regarding the cucumbers.

But are the 100 things I miss about home pessimism? Do we all not experience a sense of homesickness after moving to a new place, particularly if that new place is after eighteen years in the same continent? Do these feelings exist even if we do not acknowledge them, commit them to paper or e-space? I think they do.

And to be fair, there are some things I really enjoy about being in Israel for a year. I have only been here two months, so the list, in theory, should be 1/111th of the list (2 months out of 18 years 6 months). But since both that fraction is very messy, and since 1/111th of 100 is less than one thing I like about Israel, I have created

THE FIRST 50 THINGS THAT I LIKE ABOUT ISRAEL!
So there. And as my time in Israel increases, I will try to add more. Detractors, ha! "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelledof elderberries! Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!"

The different toilet flushers, and the half- and full-flush levers.
How people will invite you for Shabbat anytime.
The lack of driving on Shabbats, holidays, and particularly Yom Kippur.
Changing the clocks before Yom Kippur to make the fast seem shorter.
Having kosher restaurants on every corner, particularly if they serve shawarma.
Starting my every day with Birkat Cohanim.
Praying at the Western Wall.
Traveling anywhere in this small country– even Eilat, six hours away, is close.
The fact that I can and probably will run into someone I know in a few hours in the OC.
The diversity of the people here, even among the Jews. And remember, there is no Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist etc. Jewry here.
Playing the Israelis at backgammon. And winning.
The challenge of a new language, and fitting into Hebrew as I’ve never done before, even if that means making mistakes.
Learning to appreciate the nuances of Israeli slang.
The tremendous pride and courage of the Israeli teenagers in my group who will be going to the army next year.
Setting my own learning schedule, knowing I can study at my own pace.
The openness of the yeshiva– politically, religiously, and spiritually.
Driving in a taxi, not knowing what kind of driver I’ll find inside. Only New York has a more eclectic group of drivers, and I’ll get to experience that next year.
The additional security; I actually feel safer, knowing that our safety is a top priority everywhere.
Looking at America and Americanism in a new light, and seeing my country from an outsider’s viewpoint.
Slowly but meticulously progressing in my gmara studies.
How everyone I’ve met on my vacation seems to know the Liggetts. Even my Microsoft Word spellcheck in Israel didn’t underline it.
Hanging around Jerusalem: Ben Yehuda and the Emek and the OC.
Needing to listen a lot more, now that speaking is more difficult, and needing to choose my words with more care.
Playing “Yaniv” with the guys, and the crazy stunt the loser has to perform.
Being able to wear a kippa and not having to worry about representing the Jews in a foreign land.
Seeing a sukkah at every restaurant on Ben Yehuda during the holiday.
The view from the mountaintop.
The streets all being named after biblical people and heroes of modern Israel.
That all the souvenir shops sell Jewish chotchkes.
Seeing Jewish kids perfectly comfortable walking the street alone.
The big healthy (if somewhat repetitive) Israeli breakfasts.
The raw joy and emotion at Israeli-style birthday parties.
The sense of camaraderie at the yeshiva, a sensation that includes the foreign Americans.
Hiking, swimming, and exploring the terrain of this beautiful country.
The courageousness needed to start a new moshav.
The thousands of years of history, and how it is preserved amidst the fast-paced modern world.
Only keeping one day of chag.
Playing Jewish geography, and more often than not, finding we know someone in common.
Finding common ground with an Israeli teenager, particularly if the subject in question is the horrendousness of “Pride and Prejudice.”
The kibbutz-like sense of community at a place that is not really a kibbutz.
Observing, and sometimes participating in, the discussion of Israeli politics. Usually, the issue of Gaza.
Enjoying cold water/air conditioning after a hot Israeli day.
Chatting with friends at other yeshivot, and comparing our experiences.
Finding the Beit Midrash is open 24/7, and that learning never ceases.
The Gilboa Irises, which should bloom in February. They are supposed to be world-famous.
Looking at the night sky from atop the kibbutz tower.
Discussions with Rav Bigman late at night on the grass.
Shoko B’Sakit. Or, chocolate milk in a bag.
My choice of Ma’aleh Gilboa.
The Jewish atmosphere.