Life as a Mashakit Chinuch (and a bit about how I got there)

March 08, 2015

Life as a Mashakit Chinuch (and a bit about how I got there)

I sit drowsily in my team classroom, tapping my foot against the floor to stay awake. Just as my forehead inches toward the ground and my eyelids fall like heavy curtains, a familiar voice perks me out of my doze:

Leora, boi! (come here).

I twinge—please no…not the Rasap.

The Rasap (n:) the senior soldier responsible for all equipment, cleaning inspections, logistics, and most notably, enforcing discipline. She maintains a tight, slicked back bun, a stern face, and unparalleled seriousness. She is the one who—on day one of the course—had us all in pushup position until we learned how to make straight lines. She was also the only soldier of all the commanders who never cracked a smile.

She pulls me out of the classroom and a knot twists in the pit of my stomach.

Immediately the Rasap says,

“Leora, you’re the next aleph minhalot. And you have a lot of work to do. Good luck.”

Obviously, my first thought is “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” but the words that come out are “oh, emmm…cool.” (All in Hebrew, of course)

So what does the job entail? Essentially, aleph minhalot is the right-hand of the Rasap. For two full weeks, aleph minhalot organizes and assigns guard duty, addresses all logistical needs/problems, fetches and returns the daily snacks (3 times a day), leads activities, switches soldiers’ uniforms, and more. It is one of the most demanding jobs during the course, and thus, the most dreaded.

Gulp.

I ask the Rasap: “Wait. Am I allowed to be both Aleph Actualia (head news) and Aleph Minhalot?”

Though it may not have happened in the past, she said, she thinks I can handle it.

Indeed, the staff’s over-confidence in my abilities combined with their neglect for my sleeping needs resulted in two weeks from hell. Not only did my commanders give me two colossal jobs at once, but they also did it during the week of our final project and final exam.

So, using strength I did not know I had, I finished the two weeks in one piece. And I only broke down once! I may have cried into my mashed-potatoes, but at least I laugh about it now.

In fact, when I look back on the entire 2-month course experience, I laugh at a lot of things I did and said. I laugh at how much I cared about the little things—what does my commander think of me? What grade did I get on this one paragraph assignment? What if I say something wrong in Hebrew in front of the whole group?

I laugh at the seemingly intense guard duty, at the impossible assignments, at the absurdly strict discipline, and at the stress we inflicted upon ourselves arbitrarily. I laugh at how delirious and sleep-deprived I was half the time. I laugh at the oily pancakes we loved but also complained about. I laugh at the memory of throwing sacks of potatoes from a truck into the street for two hours one morning. I laugh at the memory of scrubbing mold off the shower walls and thinking: G-d, if this doesn’t prove how much I love this country, I’m not sure what does.

Certainly, the course had some very high highs and some fairly low lows. Some of the high highs included:

Ritually singing show tunes in the shower most nights.
Friday night dinners on base, which usually ended in Shabbat songs, made-up chants, or a game of some sort.
Deep conversations within the curriculum…we had a lot of these.
Deep conversations outside of the curriculum…I instigated a lot of these.
Feeling my Hebrew improve each day, and getting A grades as proof of my efforts.
The indescribable 5-day Masa (trip/journey) during which I got to explore popular sites in Israel as an Israeli and as an educator. We traveled from the snowy Ramat Hagolan to the mountainous Gamla; from the holy city of Tiberius to the historic Masada; from the lush nature preserve at Ein Ged to the dry, un-settled Negev at Sde Boker. [The last stop in the negev was one of the more meaningful stops. Certainly not because of the attractions of the Negev and not even because of starry sky. The Negev reminds me that Zionism is far from an achieved goal. It reminds of the importance of Aliyah, of settling Israel’s periphery, and of all the work I have to do here. It’s at once inspiring and a bit overwhelming.]

As for the “low lows,” no need to delve too deeply. It’s nothing I haven’t shared here before. I struggled with the language, with my confidence, and in the really challenging moments, I even struggled with my decision to join the army.

But at the end of the day, I have my reasons, and I hold onto them tight. I even keep a little note with them in my dog tag holder—a note I wrote back in America, when the thought of me in uniform was still a distant dream.

Now this "dream" is very much a reality. On February 2nd I began my tafkid as a Mashakit Chinuch of Gdud (Batallion) 402 of Totchanim (Artillery). I’m more than one month into the job and I’m feeling pretty good about it.

Some basic facts:

Location: Machane Yoav in Ramat HaGolan (waaaaaaaaay up north).

Unit Demographics:

- ~ 300 men (combat, commanders, officers, and non-combat soldiers)

- ~15 women (social workers, officers, logistics, combat soldiers, and ME!)

_____________________

Lots of marriage proposals for Leora!

Job Description: I plan lessons, trips, and volunteer opportunities for the soldiers. I am also responsible for sending the soldiers to courses that the army offers, such as: finishing 12 years of education, finishing Bagruyot (state testing), course nativ (Zionism and Judaism for new immigrants/nonjews), and a Hebrew language course.

Unofficial position: unit psychologist, yoga and meditation instructor, instant coffee-connoisseur, English tutor, and Kitchen cleaner. The last one I didn’t do by choice, but you might see me in Kitchen more than in my office. It’s a part of my job that I’ve just come to accept. (More on the Kitchen duty for another blog!)

After one month, I finally feel like I’m getting the hang of things. I’ve already been through plenty with the unit, for example:

- 1 Dilug (v:) skipping, which in army slang means moving one’s base to a new location. In my second week on the job, we moved the entire base from Eilat (the southern tip) to Ramat HaGolan (The northern border with Syria).

- 1 trekk through knee-high mud.

- 1 trip to Eilat and the Red Canyon.

- 1 semi-successful Purim party (that I planned).

- 1 experience locking a cow out of the dining hall.

- 2 Snowball fights (I was victorious).

- 3 Dance parties (sometimes we have fun in the army!)

- 5,075 cups of coffee in the Ta’agad (infirmary), where I tend to spend my free time. Not because I’m always sick, but because the medics are the cool kids and I’m obviously one of them.

Tomorrow I head back to base for 11 days. I’m excited to create more memories and then share the most random ones with you all.

Shavua tov!