Back to Work

Monday, January 26, 2009

After breakfast and flag-raising (attended only by the volunteers – we were told that some of the soldiers attend flag-raising shortly after 6 a.m.), the base commander spoke to us and explained that reserve troops leaving Gaza left a substantial amount of equipment and supplies at Ktziot, and that there was plenty of work for us to do to sort it all out, organize it and get it ready for the next time it’s needed.

Work began at a warehouse in the same area we received our clothing yesterday. Think of the times you have come home from a long trip and dropped everything – suitcases, clothes, personal items – in one place. Now think of an army doing the same thing and you get the idea. The warehouse was stuffed to the brim with piles of every kind of clothing and equipment imaginable, including flak jackets, pants, shirts, shoes, hats, helmets, equipment belts, first aid supplies, canteens, blankets, sleeping bags and bullets. Lots and lots of M-16 clips and bullets.

We counted everything and spread it out in piles in the parking lot until the warehouse was empty. I spent some time unloading clips and handled more bullets than I’ve ever seen before. Then, everything was bundled and put back into the warehouse in order. The items will be cleaned and repaired as needed, and made ready for reissue.

At mid-morning, one of my fellow volunteers and I were reassigned to another larger warehouse in the lower area of the base where we sorted and packed bigger materials: cots, tents, stakes … and even more bullets. The warehouse also contained some RPGs and what looked like a land mine. I decided to keep my distance, remembering my promise to my friends that I would not point anything or shoot anything during my trip.

We were working outdoors and enjoyed the sun and the mid-70s temperatures of winter in the desert. The two soldiers in charge of our work spoke very little English, but were extremely friendly and were able to let us know what needed to be done.

The work was tiring, but we were constantly busy. While many of us had difficulty connecting last week’s assignments at the supply base in the north with the recent operation in Gaza, the link between this week’s work and the recent battles could not have been clearer. The withdrawal from Gaza and the demobilization of reservists was completed very quickly, leaving the full-time soldiers – and the volunteers – to organize everything that was used.

The evening presentation was abbreviated because of everyone’s desire to get some sleep. Our two madrichot, Liora and Michal, talked about their training in preparation for work with Sar-El volunteers. Like our madricha last week, Liora and Michal are bright and talented young women who enjoy the experience of meeting volunteers from around the world -- and of responding to the myriad of questions we pose, ranging from hotel and travel arrangements on the weekend to figuring out how to maintain a sufficient supply of toilet paper in the barracks.

Liora came to Israel from the former Soviet Union as a child, and lives in Jerusalem. Michal is a sabra (a native-born Israeli) whose parents emigrated from Peru. As the only Spanish speaker among the Sar-El guides, Michal regularly assists groups of volunteers from South America. Michal lives in Modi’in, a modern community located midway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv that also happens to have a very close relationship with Rochester through a program known as Partnership 2000. There are ongoing exchanges of teachers, teens, musicians and artists between the two communities, and the best evidence of the success of the program was the way Michal’s face lit up when I told her I was from Rochester. We also successfully played the time-honored game known as "Jewish Geography," and Michal asked that send greetings to Tom Reinstein, a retired lawyer in Rochester who is a member of Temple Beth El.

There was a bit of excitement after dinner when we were told that the water supply to the base had been interrupted (according to Michal, "it blowed up"), meaning there were no toilets or showers. I quickly switched to the fall-back philosophy I learned during my bicycle rides across Iowa: “When things start to go wrong, lower your standards.” In this case, the thinking went: “I’m sure they’ll fix it by morning, and if I can’t shower until then, it will be o.k.” I didn’t spend too much time thinking about the lack of toilets, other than to reflect on how very different my life has become and how life in Israel, and particularly in the army, means never taking anything for granted.

Happily, we were back in business by the time the evening presentation ended. I was tempted to recite the prayer thanking God for miracles … but decided I’d save that one for something more important.