HaGal Sheli in Tel Aviv and Bat Yam teaches at-risk youth how to surf..
(photo credit: YANAI YECHIEL)
It’s that time of year again; that awful, wonderful, crazy, only-in-Israel time when Holocaust Remembrance Day segues into Remembrance Day For Fallen Soldiers, which then jerks into the festivities of Yom Ha’atzmaut. The Holocaust testimonies seem to get more terrible each year, the list of soldiers gets impossibly, brutally longer, and by the time Independence Day judders around, it’s not surprising that a national pastime is hitting each other over the head with plastic hammers.It’s a tough neighborhood we live in, that’s for sure. I don’t know about you, but sometimes at this particular juncture I get these feelings that niggle around for a bit, questioning whether it’s all been worth it. Are we quite insane to choose to live in a place where, when a boy is born, our knee-jerk reaction is “Oy. The army.” Then we breathe deeply and sigh, “Who knows? Maybe we’ll give peace a chance by the time he’s 18.”
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