PART II Mid-trip and afterwards

Our cousin Melissa Goldman is staying with us for several days after finishing her 10-day Taglit-Birthright trip. ("Taglit" is the Hebrew name for Birthright.) The program was originated by Charles Bronfman and Michael Steinhardt as a way to spark an interest in Israel and Judaism by bringing Jewish youth here on free, dynamic visits. Over 190,000 young adults from all over the world have been to Israel on Birthright Israel trips - 25,000 visits this summer alone! [see www.birthrightisrael.com] I asked Melissa to describe her feelings about the experience. This is what she had to say:

Our guide Reut talked about how we might feel guilty about the young Israelis who had died in the army while we were sitting safely at home in America, generally untouched by anti-Semitism and largely oblivious to their sacrifice for the sake of our Jewish nation. The Israeli youth who serve in the army or do national service (the great majority) are making all of our lives more secure as Jews by their efforts. What would you do if you could save your army buddies and you didn't - or did, like Roi Klein, who died during the Second Lebanon War when he shielded his unit from a grenade's explosion with his own body, while calling out the Shema Yisrael prayer?

It's admirable for anyone to serve in the Israeli army - especially young people like Chad, who's come all the way from the U.S. to do military service. [Chad Meyers is a 22- year-old American Jew who is staying at the Kramer house before joining the Israeli Army as a combat volunteer.]

Additionally, it's beautiful to know and be part of a people who appreciate their soldiers so much. Gilad Schalit, for example, who was kidnapped in 2006 and is still imprisoned somewhere in Gaza, is remembered by Israelis who pray daily for his safe return. This is a sharp contrast to the situation in America where a soldier's life seems to be cheap and where policy indicates that the U.S. will not negotiate with terrorists. In Israel, each individual soldier's life is afforded the highest possible value - the country will do almost anything to bring a soldier home. [After all, Kuntar, the terrorist responsible for several recent civilian deaths in the northern town of Nahariya, was traded to the Hizbullah (who subsequently honored him as a "hero" upon his return) for the bodies of two dead Israeli soldiers kidnapped in Lebanon earlier that year.]

Still, the issue is complicated. How might it make Gilad feel to know that to Hamas he's an equally valuable pawn whether he's dead or alive? As far as I'm concerned, there's no right answer to this dilemma. But the fact that it is a dilemma in the Israeli nation's collective conscience makes me feel even more proud to be a Jew.

Honestly, it was tough for my fun-loving Birthright group to be so reined in by constraints for our security and also to be depressed by the somber things that we saw during our trip, but in the end, we understood why. As a group, we had sunrise at Masada; we partied in Eilat - but had to leave at midnight when most Israelis were just arriving; we slathered mud on our bodies and floated in the Dead Sea; we had a rooftop Shabbat dinner overlooking the ocean in Tel Aviv; we squeezed tiny notes into cracks in the Western Wall in Jerusalem; we ate falafel, shwarma, and hummus every day; we bought a nargila (water pipe) and smoked it together as a group every night; and among many other serious activities, we went to Yad Vashem where everyone else was a Jew too (unlike American Holocaust museums) and where there was no embarrassment if you felt like crying because everyone around you knew how you felt.

Truly, however, meeting Israeli people and identifying with new Israeli friends was the highlight of my trip - this, of course, includes the post - Birthright time I've spent with my cousins Shaul and Moshe, their parents, and their friend Chad. Getting to know the Israeli soldiers who came to accompany us during our tour was also great, as well as meeting our security guard and group medic, Ron. The Shabbat dinner we had at the Shochet's house with my cousins, the night after Birthright ended, was just one of these fantastic experiences.

But I have to admit, I was a little surprised to see so many ex-pats around the dinner table. As I sat and ate, I looked at the kids - totally Israeli - beside their parents who are almost all from somewhere else. It reminded me of America two generations ago, yet my cousins and the others didn't reject their parents' culture as many second-generation Americans have. Instead, they just added on to it. Jonathan, for example, could easily have been American, with his perfect English accent and his Nikebranded kipah, even though he was born in Israel.

All of the Americanized kids I met at dinner had served in the army along with their fellow Israeli peers. In the end, I am impressed by every young Israeli I've met on this trip. I think what they have accomplished by my age, 22, may be far more significant than my own proudest achievement - graduating summa cum laude from a private University in America just a few months ago. Doing real things before settling down clearly seems much more important now that I've spent time in Israel.

Today, as I sit at the Kramer's house and look at Moshe and his dog Vered, who served together with him in the IDF Canine Unit, I can't really begin to imagine their army experiences. But this is Israel: one second you're laughing and joking around with your friends at a club, and the next you're crying and worrying about Gilad Schalit.

Moshe mentioned that he could have shown me the grave of a good friend at Mt. Herzl that day in Jerusalem. After being in Israel for almost three weeks, however, a statement like this no longer depresses me, it just makes me feel proud to be a Jew.

Stephen Kramer resided and worked in the Atlantic City area until 1991, when he moved to Israel with his wife, Michal Langweiler, and two sons. His book "Meandering Through Israel" can be purchased by calling the Jewish Times at 407-0909. He can be reached at Sjk1@jhu.edu.