Thanksgiving

I love thanksgiving. I love returning home each year and knowing all of my friends will be there too. I love spending the holiday with my family whether we celebrate in St. Louis or Chicago. This year was my first thanksgiving away from home. But that's not to say that I went without thanksgiving at all this year. I had two different thanksgivings this year.

The first was an Otzma celebration on thanksgiving itself. There were 60 of us squeezed into the moadon of our absorption center. There are about 40 of us on the program and the remaining 20 were made up of Otzma staff, ITC participants (a new Otzma program which places volunteers solely in Israeli schools teaching english), the building staff, Ulpan instructors as well as past Otzma alumni who have made aliyah.

We had two turkeys, prepared by two fellow Otmaniks who planned the festivities. Each one of us was in charge of preparing at least one dish for the meal. Somehow there was enough food for everyone, with plenty of left overs. We were all a little nervous about how the event would turn out with so many people with different traditions and expectations. In the end the meal was surprisingly delightful. It was a real success and we even managed to remain silent for all 60 people to quickly share what they were thankful for this year. The food was delicious and the meal was somehow still intimate despite all of the people.

On friday I left Ashkelon and went to Yokneam to celebrate the holiday for a second time with my adoptive family. Because my adoptive dad is originally from New York, he likes to put on a big thanksgiving meal every year. They invite all of the Americans and their families they know in the area. That's not to say the meal was without Israelis--there were Israeli spouses as well as the kids who grew up here who can be described as nothing else but Israeli.

So for this reason the incredibly crowded house (they hosted over 30 guests) was a complicated fusion creating an Israeli thanksgiving. The food was great but I was surprised on this American holiday to feel the Israeli influence in the dishes. Despite all the English speakers, I was still surrounded by constant Hebrew. The house was filled with people who often see each other only once a year on this day but still are able to pick up where they left off from the year before.

I experienced a very American tradition for the first time here in Israel, the day after thanksgiving lunch: Turkey Sandwich. I just had the meal for the first time with my adoptive family. My family is really missing out by leaving this particular tradition out of our repertoire, it was great! I finally understand what all the fuss is about. We're usually at the movies the day after thanksgiving but I think we would be well served to enjoy this big left over meal after the movie so that a proper nap can take place when we're all stuffed once again to capacity.

My thanksgiving(s) have been interesting and different and all together a big success. Even so, I still missed being with my own family, playing Risk until all hours of the night, and my favorite sweet potato/cranberry dish my mom creates every year. Last night I looked over and saw a 12 year old boy sit on his mother's lap and kiss her on the cheek. Before I could help it I said outloud, "I miss my mommy." Despite the fact that I'm 22 and am admitting to calling my mom, mommy, from time to time, I really do miss everyone. I wouldn't call myself homesick, I'm quite used to being away from home and spend little time dwelling on the separation. I'm usually not bothered because of the internet and my unusually high phone bill but there's nothing like the holidays to provoke a fleeting moment of realization about how far the distance really is between Israel and St. Louis.

Later this evening I'll return to Ashkelon and leave my adoptive family until moving to Yokneam next month. I'll be greeted in Ashkelon with the family we've created an ocean away from home and to be quite frank I'll probably forget entirely about that fleeting moment until the next one.

A Surprising Twist

Every Wednesday I volunteer at a conservative synagogue here in Ashkelon called Netzak Israel. I work in a kindergarten classroom for a couple of hours, interacting with the kids, struggling to communicate with my broken Hebrew. Their afternoons have a very specific structure: lunch time, a movie or various games, snack, story time, and then an art project. Today I found myself enthralled during story time when the teacher introduced the children's book as written by Gilad Shalit.

For anyone unfamiliar with Gilad Shalit, he is an Israeli soldier who was kidnapped by Hamas in 2006 and has since been held in captivity for over three years. A video was released last month showing a still living, albeit frail Shalit. This tragedy evokes a very raw place in all Israelis because just like them, he was drafted into his country's army at the age of 18. The issue is all too relevant and regardless of your politics, all too devastating.

This afternoon I was not expecting to hear the name Gilad Shalit in a room filled with four year olds. I was shocked to learn this was his own story. Shalit wrote a simple story at the age of 11 and it was published over a year ago into a children's book with dozens of artists filling in the pages. The book is truly beautiful, not just aesthetically but from what I could understand of the story told in Hebrew.

The story is one of a little fish and a shark. It begins with the two meeting for the first time and deciding to play together even though they were natural enemies. They then return to their homes where each are scolded by their parents who say they were wrong to go outside of their roles. The shark is supposed to eat the fish, and the fish is supposed to be scared of the shark. They avoided each other for a long time but after time passed the fish and the shark began to meet again in secret. The story ends with both the fish and the shark convincing their families that the other can be a friend and not an enemy. All fish and sharks go on to live in peace.

This simple story of a child is filled with depth and a level of foresight that is positively chilling. Most of the kids today were unaware of the story beyond the little fish and shark while every adult in the room was riveted. I looked at the innocent, oblivious faces in my classroom and was heartbroken knowing the tragedies they will one day have to learn and witness. I can only hope 11 year old Gilad's wish will come true and these beautiful children will only ever know that fish and sharks can live in peace.