9 Av 5768

Last year I had a lot of trouble "getting in the spirit of Tisha B'Av." I was about three weeks shy of making aliyah and was caught up in the wonders of "v'shavu banim" and "reishit smichat geuloteinu." I was thinking about it these past couple of days leading up to Tisha B'Av this year and I realized something that seemed a bit silly at first. As much as Bnei Akiva and Camp Moshava brainwashed me into making aliyah, they also did a sort of "Tisha B'Av brainwashing."

For the first five Tisha B'Av days for which I was old enough to at least semi-grasp the significance of the day (ages 10-14) I was on a Jewish program, the first four years being my summers at Moshava. For the weeks leading up to Tisha B'Av all we would hear about is senseless hatred and the other horrible sins that led to the destructions of both Temples, the trauma of losing the Temples, and all the terrible things that followed. At the same time they would work in the words "make aliyah" to everything from dancing on shabbat to art projects to long hikes. Don't ask me how they did it, but they did, and apparently it worked.

So for four summers I got these mixed messages: Everything was destroyed and it hasn't been the same since and we enact this suffering by eating eggs dipped in ashes (no one seems to do this in Newton, MA) and sitting on upside down benches for davenning. However despite these feelings of lost, we need to sing and dance and shout "make aliyah!" over and over because redemption is coming and each and every one of us is going to join the Jewish people in Israel, right now, or the second camp is over, or after graduating from college when you realize that even ten years later the brainwashing has still stuck. (The first letter of my Nefesh B'Nefesh essay? "I've been brainwashed.")

I guess it is no surprise then that once again this year, now that I am coming up on a year since aliyah, I feel the same challenge of feeling depressed on this day when every other day I work so hard to see the beauty and accomplishments of this country. I joked to my roommate that for the nine days what I really should avoid instead of the usual lashon hara (as was instructed to me at camp) was saying anything bad about Israel. The spies did it and didn't do any good for them, but it's just... so hard! There is so much to complain about! And on the other hand, I feel that there is so much to celebrate about the country in general and my life here. It's still like that first post-Jewish program Tisha B'Av when midday, as the hunger set in, I thought to myself, "Okay, so now what?" I still have about three more hours of the fast so maybe I will achieve some sort of understanding for what's missing here. It amazes me every year how, for lack of a better word, helpful the kinot are generations after they were written.

One more thing that's on my mind last week... August 6th/ 14 Av mark ten years since my Papa Harold passed away. He died while I was away for my final summer of Moshava. Those of you who have known me for awhile know that that event positively turned my life upside down and nothing as been the same since. It is hard to think about everything that has happened between that summer (the final summer of Bnei Akiva brainwashing) and this summer, my first as an Israeli citizen. My grandfather was a quiet person. He loyally picked me and my siblings up from school every Friday and attended every school play and Karate presentation. They were usually followed by a smile and quick hug and kiss. Words weren't necessary. He was always quietly rooting for me. Every summer I would leave camp with it set in my mind that I would one day make aliyah. I'm sure I shared these thoughts with Papa Harold at some point and he probably smiled quietly and offered to make me chocolate milk. Silly brainwashing.