By Alisa Itskova, WUJS participant

So it’s been a little over a month that I find myself in this beautiful country called Israel. Sometimes I still can’t believe that I’m here, that I made it. And it wasn’t an easy decision to make. I knew that I wasn’t going to stay in Moscow, but at first I was considering doing an internship in the USA or going back to England where I had lived for 5 years before. But ever since Israel presented itself to me through Taglit program in January 2013, the idea of coming here would pop in my mind every now and then. However, it wasn’t until May 2014 that I really made up my mind about it. Later on in Tel-Aviv I would meet a man in the synagogue after an evening service on Yom Kippur who would explain to me that my “neshama”, my soul was striving to lead me here.

Why do people choose to do a MASA program? I really think we all have our own reasons and perhaps we don’t even admit some of them to ourselves. For certain people it is a way to test the waters before making aliyah, for some it is a chance to have an amazing time living abroad and doing an internship in the area that they love or always wanted to try. Others want to establish a closer spiritual connection with the land of their ancestors, discover a new side of their identity, and some might desire to deepen their understanding of judaism in a judgement-free supporting environment.

What did I hope to get out of it? Being really frank with you…. I didn’t really know. What I did know was that I needed a drastic change in my life, in my way of thinking and seeing things. I needed to feel that long-forgotten sense of freedom. I wanted to take some control over my life but at the same time to let it all flow naturally in the right direction. I also wanted to get in touch with my artistic side. A few friends of mine who had already completed a MASA program in Israel have all commented on how liberated and inspired the very air here in the Holy Land made them feel.

But there also was a big spiritual and religious search on my ‘agenda’. You see I come from a very culturally diverse family. My mother’s father was Tatar, Muslim. My mother’s mother was Russian, Christian Orthodox. My father’s parents are both Jewish. And so were all their ancestors as far as I could trace. That’s the only self-identity my grandparents ever had, despite the fact that they lacked this giant cultural and religious layer which I thought was a necessary component of a Jewish identity. They were born and raised in the USSR and as it’s known that means without much of any religious background. And yet, as I mentioned already, they always saw themselves as Jewish. I didn’t quite understand it as a kid, but I felt how important this identity was for them.

As far as I remember I was the only one in my family who, from quite a young age, was spiritually curious and I’d even say hungry. I was always searching. I wasn’t brought up as a Jewish or a Christian girl. In fact religion was never a part of my education either at home or at school. But as I was getting older I was feeling the ever growing need to define to myself who I was and what I believed in. It never came easy for me. No one in my family or among my friends seemed to be puzzled with the same questions. I grew to believe that one’s formal religious confession was not of a significant importance, that a person’s inner morals and beliefs accounted for a ton more. And yet some part of me wanted some more clarity in terms of religion for myself. When I travelled around Asia I visited a number of beautiful Buddhist temples. And I tried to pray. In the best way I could, in my own way. I wasn’t addressing my prayers to Buddha, but to the one God that I believe is common for all people, no matter what we call him in different parts of the planet. Back in Moscow I came across many Christian Orthodox people, who were very passionate about their faith and their religion and tried to share with me that “light”. It really seemed like some force out there wanted me to experience all that. And I continued my spiritual and religious quest. I went to a few Christian churches and cathedrals when such an opportunity presented. As a curious person by nature I wanted to see and feel what other people saw and felt when they prayed in their holly places, whatever country I went to visit.

I don’t remember the exact moment when I realized that I wanted to know more about the Jewish part of my family and understand what it meant to me, being half Jewish. Being the daughter of my Jewish farther. Purely technically I was more Jewish than anything else, no matter how absurd this phrase might sound. And every time that I experienced some anti-semitism, be it a stupid comment in a blog or an offensive reference from some person, I felt angry. Sometimes even furious. Not only I’ve always been strongly against any kind of intolerance or racism, but I also felt that it concerned me and my family, my roots. I had a similar strong reaction when I was learning and talking about Holocaust with people. I felt that this tragedy was somehow personal to me. After I had gone on my Birthright trip around Israel, I felt like I had ever more questions about myself. So I decided to put up the sails and go to find some answers.
First Impressions
My journey began on September the 7th, 2014. At first there was a number of strange signs if you believe in those kind of things. I won’t go over it in details, but let’s just say that I nearly missed my flight as I didn’t realize they had changed the gates of departure, then upon arrival I joined what happened to be the longest passport control line where I queued for about an hour compromising my promise to be on time for my first interview later on that day, and on top of that I had to change my luggage trolley in the airport at least 4 times because all of them were stubbornly turning left despite my desperate efforts and kicks to straighten them up. After I finally got to HaHagana train station in the southern Tel-Aviv I discovered that the only available taxi driver was insisting on charging me more than twice the price that Florentine Backpackers’ Hostel staff kindly stated in their email to all guests. And he wouldn’t take credit cards either. It took all my negotiating skills, smiles, then frowns to try and bargain the price down but it wasn’t until I managed to find a couple of Danish tourists to share a taxi ride with that we stroke a reasonable deal. I paid 5 dollars and 15 shekels.

As we were driving around the Florentine neighborhood arguing with the driver whether or not there was a hostel at the address I was given, I was trying to choke the emerging panic inside me. Is that where I was going to live for 5 months?! At the first glance the area looked like ehm… an old neglected industrial site in a third-world country. I could see why the driver refused to believe that there was a youth hostel there. If you are reading this and getting frightened I rush to assure you that Florentine is actually a charming neighborhood with plenty of interesting and charismatic sides to it that I came to love. If you let it, it will keep pleasantly surprising you. Closer to HaHagana station there are indeed some agreeably rather sketchy streets, but that’s quite far from where we are all living now. Little did I know of it all back then on my first day in Tel-Aviv. But as I finally arrived to my destination and stepped over the threshold of the Florentine Backpacker’s Hostel my fears and doubts were swept away in a fraction of a second. Now you should know that I’ve travelled a fair bit in my life already (if I remember it correctly I’ve been to more than 20 countries) and therefore I’ve seen all sorts of hostels before. But Florentine happened to be beyond all my expectations. Before I could even say a word somebody took my more than bulky 32kg suitcase and dragged it energetically to the 3rd floor. The staff at the reception turned out to be the sweetest girls too. They helped me bring the rest of my bags to my room, made me a cup of tea, answered patiently all my questions about how to find this and that in town, promised to wait ’till I get back from my interview to have an individual introduction session with me about Tel-Aviv and didn’t even bother taking the payment from me right away. No rush, explained they. Later on that night another guy working in the hostel took everyone who wanted to a small bar with very affordable prices. This friendliness from everyone in the hostel really amazed me. What more could you want on your first day in a new country?

In the streets of Tel-Aviv
I’m not trying to oversell it, but people in Israel are really generally helpful and friendly. And it’s not just my experience as a girl. If you are ever lost, forgot how to use google maps or just happen to have an amnesia walking around in a familiar place, all you need is to ask. Pretty much anyone. English should be enough 99% of the time. I’m lucky enough to also speak French and Russian but I hardly ever use them. The only times when I struggled a bit was probably with bus drivers. But even if they themselves don’t speak English there’s always gonna be someone among the passengers or even people in the street who will come along and help you. And if you are shy and think that you will bother people asking for directions all the time, you should learn to overcome these feelings based on a wrong assumption. The Israelis love talking and if someone around needs help they feel it’s their duty to give you a hand. Knowing this is something very comforting to me. I never feel like I’m all alone surrounded by strangers in the street even though technically I am.
But it’s not only helping with directions that the Israelis like when it comes to social interaction in the street. As a girl (sorry, have to make this remark here, not quite sure if it’s similar for the boys) I found myself chatted up by random strangers from a very diverse age range all the time. And no, I believe I didn’t display any signs that would encourage it, unless you count an occasional smile at the crazy non-stop car honking around me (also a big hobby in Israel apparently). Once one man just started showing me pictures on his phone from his journeys around the world, after which he grabbed my hand and proceeded to a hand massage explaining that apart from working in a large tourism company he was also employed by a SPA centre somewhere in the north of the country. And we are talking about daytime, in the middle of a busy central street in Tel-Aviv. Being a very open-minded person I was more amused by this experience than anything else.

And since I touched upon the subject of my experience as a woman in TA, let me close that topic by saying that it is indeed quite overwhelming how guys approach the ladies here. Don’t be surprised if they ask for your phone number at the beach if you are chilling there on your own or when you buy a case for your phone in a big shopping centre or even as you are about to cross the road and pointed someone in the right direction. Anywhere, anytime. One gentleman in his seventies came up to chat to me in… the synagogue, as I was watching the service by the entrance. He turned out to be a cinematographer and a photo journalist and a few weeks later we bumped into each other at the Haifa International Film Festival where he introduced me to some influential figures in the Israeli movie industry. Not that it was any help to my career as I’m just an intern making my first humble steps in the moviemaking world, at it was still nice. At the end of the day it’s up to you what to do with these encounters that present themselves to you while you live in Israel. I take them as a great and enriching part of my experience here, but I do make sure that I establish clear boundaries from the beginning.

There was just one thing that puzzled me for a while though. How come they are so daring when it comes to speaking to a girl in the street? Do I appear overly friendly and… approachable? I once discussed it with my male friend here in Israel and he found a possible explanation to such a social phenomenon. He believes it all comes down to the political situation and the army. When you live in a country where a period of peace is always followed by the next military conflict, while the army service is compulsory for everyone, your life philosophy is fairly different from that of people brought up in different circumstances. Not that you take every day as your last, but you certainly hesitate less in relation to pretty much everything. You just go for it. And then it stays true that the Israeli girls are always playing hard to get (and they are hard to get) so foreign girls seem like a less daunting target.

However, I hope that I didn’t put you off trying to experience and explore Israel through the best way in my opinion – talking to its people, in case you happen to be a person who prefers to abstain from this kind of interaction. Believe it or not some people, even if they are a man trying to talk to a young woman, might be genuinely interested in a friendly chat. As I’m writing this a few recent situations pop up in my mind. Just yesterday as I was coming back home from my evening walk and dinner in Tel-Aviv port, I had an interesting encounter. After the sun had set down and marked the beginning of a lovely holiday Simhat Torah, we and my Mum, who was visiting me during Sukkot, caught one the passing minivan-taxis (the type of affordable means of transport available when other public transportation stops working, i.e on Shabbat and other holidays). The driver, a man in his sixties, sipping a big cup of what I assume was tea with milk, commented on how good my English accent was and enquired where I came from. Within a few minutes of our drive I knew that some of his family came originally from Yemen, that he had lived in the USA for a few years and that he was an absolute zionist in all possible meanings of this word, even though I think I am yet to discover some of them. I really embraced his openness and despite my worried mother’s attempts to shut me up (she thought that I was bothering the poor man with my “long tongue”) continued the chat up until it was our stop to get off. As I was saying “goodbye” he said that he wished that I would stay in Israel and have many children here… I found it sweet and even touching. That gentleman didn’t really know much about me other than that I was this girl form Moscow on a MASA program in Israel for the next four months. He also knew that my mother wasn’t Jewish. And yet he wanted me and my future kids to live in the same country as him. 

Under the wing of WUJS
I’d like to conclude this chapter by saying a couple of words about some guys that really do help me feel like home here. The WUJS crew.

Being in a new country in the first few months is without any doubt one of the best experiences you get to have in your life if you ever make this choice. But it can be also a very difficult and stressful time. You don’t know the area, your way around, and even the smallest everyday chores can suddenly become daunting tasks. Where do you buy your groceries (and believe me finding yourself in such an expensive country as Israel you will certainly have this question), what’s a nice place to eat out, what are the cultural norms and expected behaviors here, where do you find those great bars and clubs, how do you deal with possible issues in your apartment, what’s the best way to get from A to B and many many others. And of course you expect that your program organizers will help you out a little with all these questions.

Being here with WUJS made my first couple of weeks in Tel-Aviv literally as nice and relaxed as possible. They really go an extra mile. I can’t speak for everyone but I’ve already lived in two different countries away from home and being there on my own was sometimes very tough during the first few months, so I expected the transition period this time to be also a little difficult. Needless to say I’m very happy my assumptions were wrong. Here we have a great team of people making sure that everything goes smooth for us and that we make the most out of our time on the program. We had more cultural activities, amazing trips and walks with WUJS than any other of my friends did with other MASA organizers. But more importantly these guys really care. Whether it is trying to provide you with information on any topic you might have or hosting those “how was your day” sessions you feel the genuine non-stop support from people who helped you get here. And from what I saw on our activities calendar we will have enough to come to keep even the most restless and demanding souls like me busy and entertained.

By Miram Roday, Year Course participant

We began our final Siyur at an archeological site wedged between the Old City and Har Zion. Our group descended windy steps overlooking a pleasant view of Jerusalem, then began a session with Aron, the archeologist. He discussed the architecture of the First Temple and the Jewish presence at the Temple Mount. He used a large stone model, meant to resemble the stones of the Kotel, to showcase photographs of important artifacts/memorable items from the Temple times. For roughly half an hour we worked in groups of 2-3 washing and sifting through buckets of dirt and rocks. We found mostly found pottery, bones, glass and mosaics  (the Singapore group discovered a coin from a bucket Rob selected, supposedly!). Later when volunteers finished sifting, the trained archeologists washed the findings and attempted to identify/label the date of the artifacts. This site is unique for two reasons- untrained amateurs are allowed to dig and uncover material as we did AND it’s the only dig in the world where the excavation is not at the original site, aka the Temple Mount. Overall it was an engaging and interesting morning, and we learned that according to Aron, archeology is the best way to appreciate Israel’s history.

We then broke for lunch and reconvened for a panel of three religions leaders who discussed issues of ecology. The Jewish prospective presented spirituality as one solution to the world’s environmental problems. The rabbi also mentioned that our culture of consumerism and our pleasure-seeking society are complicit in, if not the cause of our depleted natural resources and destroyed environment. Yasmin then presented Islam’s view and said the following–we live a short finite life. It’s essential we act as though we are living forever. Live religion, she said, as though you will die tomorrow. Finally, the Christian priest spoke about mentality. He quoted a very memorable philosophy—”attitude determines altitude.” He said if we as a society don’t care about our world, we will suffer and be forced to live marginal poor lives; therefore our progress is dependent on our attitude adjustment.

Ultimately, I agree with these spiritual leaders—humanity is interconnected. There are severe environmental problems that must be addressed, actions that must be taken and bottom line is, we are all responsible. First, we must reassess and adjust our cultural and societal values—then and only then are we on our way to a peaceful, less wasteful planet.

 

By Michael Nimaroff, Kedma participant

Hebron: the city where our patriarchs and matriarchs, Abraham, Yaakov, Sarah and Leah were buried. A city venerated by Judaism and Islam, Hebron has seen many figures of authority throughout its history. From the Canaanites, to the Crusaders, to the Ottomans, to Israel, Hebron is now currently under the control of the Palestinian Authority. Today, this city with so much history is a land divided.

When we arrived in Hebron, we were greeted by a member of Breaking the Silence, an organization founded by Israelis who spent their army service in Hebron. Breaking the Silence compiles testimonies of soldiers’ experiences in order educate the Israeli public on IDF military presence in the West Bank. The city of Hebron accounts for one third of the West Bank’s Gross Domestic Product, yet the center of the city was much different and quieter than any city I had seen before. Our tour guide informed us that due to Israeli presence and violence caused during the second Intifada, many apartments had been abandoned and shops had been forced to close down. I was personally troubled by how much the Israeli government caters to all the needs of the Jewish minority in Hebron, at the cost of the Palestine majority. Our tour guide, Nadav, told us us that many settlers have incited violence towards Palestinian homes, by throwing rocks (which now have led many to place metal cages around their windows) and placing garbage on Palestinian property. I was also disturbed that many Palestinians cannot take certain roads and have to take back roads to reach their destinations.

After our tour and lunch, we descended by bus through a vacant street that once had a thriving Arab market. We then made our way toward Avraham Avinu, a Jewish settlement inside Hebron. As we walked, we transcended into a entirely different world. It was a strong, close-knit Jewish community with kids playing in the local square, surrounded by homes and soldiers on the roof tops  to ensure their security. The community was surrounded by Palestinian neighborhoods on all sides.  In the local Shul (which was destroyed in the 1929 Hebron Massacre and has since been restored), we met a neighborhood resident and tour guide, Rabbi Simcha Hochbaum, who informed us of the Jewish perspective. We learned about the community and the need of a Jewish presence in Hebron due to the religious significance from the Bible. He invited us to his home, where we discussed the many issues and questions we had. After conversing in the Rabbi’s home, we made our way to the Tomb of the Patriarchs, where Rabbi Simcha Hochbaum discussed the religious significance behind it. We went inside and were given time to reflect, meditate and pray at the tombs of our ancestors.

The day was not over. We then made our way north towards Gush Etzion, specifically to a yishuv known as Elizar. Here, we saw a regular settlement, which was much different from Hebron. We met a member of the community who told us the history of this young community. I made little connection to what she was saying, and couldn’t help but gaze at the glorious sunset and think about what I had seen today. The lack of mobility, the violence on both sides- what is this all worth? How many lives are we willing to put at risk for the Jewish homeland, and what stands in the way of peace? I have no answers. As I gaze into the distance I realize that this conflict is not about roads, or checkpoints and settlements. It is so much greater, and far beyond my understanding. All I know is that it will take both sides and time to mend the hate into love.

By Ariana Jones, WUJS Participant

First tell me a little about yourself…
RR: I was born here in Israel. In fact my family has been here in Jewish Palestine since the 1880s, long before the establishment of the State of Israel. At least in Israeli terms, I’m an indigenous guy. I was trained originally as a journalist. I worked for Israeli Radio for several years. Then I joined a group of journalists to start a new “Daily” in Hebrew, “חדשות” (which means news). I worked there for several years until I decided to enter a doctoral program, here at the university. Then I gave up on my journalist career in favor of an academic career. I wrote my (doctoral) dissertation about the relations between Spain and Argentina during the first decade after the end of WWII. For my research, we went to Spain and spent a year there, and then we went to D.C. to look at archives for several months, and then spent an entire year in Buenos Aires. Unlike myself, my wife was born in Buenos Aires; we met here as undergraduate students at TAU. Once I submitted my dissertation, it was clear to me that I would opt for an academic career. I spent some time abroad. I did a post-doctoral stay at the University of Maryland at College Park. Then I became a professor here at Tel Aviv University. Apart from my academic career as a scholar and historian, I’ve also had several administration positions here at the university. I was vice provost here between 2006 and 2009, and this is my third year as the Vice President of this great institution, Tel Aviv University. This university is the largest and most comprehensive university here in Israel, also the best university in Israel in several aspects. Don’t just take my word for this, the recent international ranking by the Times: Higher Education Supplement has put us as the number one university in Israel. I have two kids; my son is 28 years old. My daughter is 23 years old, like very many Israeli youngsters, she just came back from six months in Nepal, India, and Sri Lanka.

What interested you about the Hispanic communities in Spain and Argentina?
As it usually happens, I was very influenced by one of my professors. As an undergrad student, I had an amazing professor of Spanish history, Shlomo Ben Ami. He later became the Israeli ambassador to Spain, and then became the Israeli foreign minister in the government of Ehud Barak. Shlomo is a brilliant intellectual, very passionate about Spain and Spanish history. I started studying history with him, and was attracted by the interactions of Jews, Muslims, and Christians in Medieval Spain. As a grad student, I focused in the modern history of Spain, especially the 19th and 20th centuries. When I had to choose my doctoral dissertation, I opted for the relations of Spain and Argentina. Originally my research had very little to do with Jews and Jewish history. In each and every visit of mine to Argentina, people kept asking me questions about Jewish immigration to Argentina, about Argentine neutrality during WWII, about the entry of Nazi war criminals to Argentina after the end of the world war, and about ties between Argentina and Israel. So gradually I was drawn to conduct research on a wide variety of Jewish topics in Argentina. In most cases it was social and cultural history instead of political history. My most recent book is devoted to Jews, soccer, and the making of Argentina.

Is there a big Latin American community here in Israel?
There is a relatively large number of emigrants here from Latin America. I sometimes hesitate to call it a community, but we’re talking something about 100,000 Israelis of Latin American origin. Unlike some places [in the U.S. or Europe] it’s cool to be Latin here, Latin music, Latin soccer, Latin telenovelas, Latin food. If people hear you speaking Spanish in the street, they would probably be nicer to you.

Do you work at all with the Latin community here in Israel?
I do collaborate closely with a wide variety of organizations and associations of Latin Americans here in Israel. In most cases we’re talking about Jewish Latin Americans who have relocated to Israel. I have also been in contact over the years with non-Jewish Latin Americans, mostly migrant workers who spent some time in Israel, and were trying to alleviate their situation through their stay here.

Do you know how the transition is here amongst the Jewish Latin emigrants who come here? Is it easier for them to assimilate?
In most cases, we talk about Jewish Latin Americans. It seems that their experience here is better than in other non- Spanish speaking countries. It’s not just that everything Latin is popular here in Israel. It’s also the informalities of both societies [Latin American and Israeli]. There is something in the social interactions here that are similar to the Latin American one. It is often easier for Spanish speakers to pronounce the Hebrew language than English. Unlike immigrants from several countries which are considered underdeveloped. Immigrants from Latin America are categorized in the same group of the U.S. and Western Europe. My impression is that “yes, the experience here is easier than in other non- Spanish speaking countries.”

Switching to the campus, if someone came to Tel Aviv University on a campus tour for the first time, what is something you would tell them to leave a lasting impression?
I would tell them that this is a research oriented university. It’s a liberal campus, categorized by pluralism, tolerance, and open minded attitudes. I think that since it’s located in the city of Tel Aviv, which is the most liberal, pluralist city of Israel, it’s easier to become part of the university community here than in many other places. We have a beautiful campus, with many activities. When you come here it’s not just the academic courses you take, it’s also the wide variety of social cultural offerings. The student union is extremely active. A lot of music events, theatre shows, and it’s a metropolitan university. So you can benefit from all the advantages of this university, and the liveliness of the city. It’s vitality, its nightlife and the like.

What is your favorite place on campus?
I would say either the balcony of the café, which is based here at the Diaspora museum here on campus or the central library. Which now-a-days has very many spaces for discussions and interactions. Not like in the old days where you had to keep silent and you couldn’t bring food inside and the like.

How does this university affect the community?
Apart from the focus on the research and teaching, we strongly believe that Tel Aviv University has a social and cultural role to play here in Israel. It’s no secret that Israeli society is in the midst of a cultural struggle over its core values and its identity. Via a wide variety of activities we try to promote the values of solidarity, tolerance, and pluralism. Thousands of our students and faculty are involved in activities within and without the campus. We have programs that attract thousands of Israeli middle and high school kids. We have problems attracting adult groups. People who are prisoners who weren’t able to finish university, we call it the popular university program. We offer very many lectures and symposiums open to the public. Students here can get scholarships if they sign up for certain social activities in different neighborhoods in Tel Aviv. We strongly believe that we have social responsibility and a social and cultural role to play here in Israeli society.

You’ve done a lot. You’ve written several books, and given countless speeches. Can you tell me what your motivation has been through all of this?
It is the intellectual curiosity first and foremost as well as the need to be a part of a wider intellectual community. The topics I research all have to do with issues of migration, identity, ethnicity, which seem very important and very relevant to life in Israel. It doesn’t matter much if you dedicate your research to one country or one region rather than another, what’s important is the topics that interest you. In this case, Israel being a society of emigrants, being a society in a constant struggle with its identity. My academic research connects me closely with the events and processes taking place here in Israel. Even though I work closely with Spain and South America, my academic activity ties me even stronger to this country of mine where my family has been for several generations now.

Let’s talk about your new book: Fútbol, Jews, and the Making of Argentina, what is the impression that you hope to leave behind?
First of all most people tend to be surprised when they see the title of this book because they tend to believe that sports haven’t been that important for Jews in the past two centuries or so. Jews are supposedly the people of the book. I claim they are also people of the ball, fútbol, basketball, and other ball games. People keep asking me, “Is that serious, where there many Jews involved in soccer in Argentina?” I said, “Yes, soccer was very important in their daily lives in South America. Many of them either played fútbol, or were administrators of soccer clubs, fans of soccer clubs. Men, women, and children, since fútbol in general is very important in Argentina it is also important for Jewish Argentines. It shouldn’t be surprised that Jews in England are intrigued by the same issues like non-Jews in England. It’s the same, Jews in Argentina are fascinated by soccer, tango like any Argentine. The commonly held assumption is that fútbol was never important for Jews anywhere because supposedly we Jews shouldn’t waste our time on unimportant activities. This is false, since the middle of the 19th century, various sports have been important to Jews everywhere.
That just brought up a final point, I know that organized sport isn’t as big here [in Israel] as in the way the school systems are set up. The children go to school in the morning, and by noon they’re out. They have the option of going to sports or other activities afterword but organized sports don’t often come with the school. When you compare to Europe, and the states, even in South America there are many after school programs that children have the option to be a part of…
It’s true that it’s not an integral part of the school’s curriculum as it is in other countries. However, very many kids are a part of sports in the afternoons and evenings. Very many Israelis are fans of soccer, basketball, volleyball, swimming, general athletics.

Do you think that will change? Or do people think the system it is perfect now and don’t want it to change?
I don’t foresee any change in the near future, although it I would certainly encourage time in not just academics but to extracurricular as well.