I just wonder how I came to learn about Sar-El at all. Somehow I remembered the name that my cousin's sister once mentioned during my first visit to Israel back in 2004.

That was more like a tourist affair, when we (my parents, my younger brother, and I) came to Israel, and we really saw the most interesting, important, and "proper" places. The general impression was that Israelis live a comfortable bourgeois life and can handle whatever problems  might arise. What other nation has thousand years' experience of overcoming all kinds of hardships, trials, and tribulations, after all?! This people deserves whatever it has, and the Jews had to earn this all and they had to fight for it, I thought. So the general impression was that I had a glimpse of paradise, compared to the places where I have been condemned to live in so far.

So I felt great affection and sympathy for this great little land that I thought I had discovered for myself. More than once I caught myself using Israel as a reference when thinking of life in Belarus where I presently live. And since that first visit of Israel I tried to learn as much as possible about the country, to hear  news about it, to stay aware of what's going on in the Middle East. Israel was no more "an aggressive Zionist satellite of the American Imperialism, plotting against all the progressive world, capitalizing on the poor oppressed Arabs." It's not that this was ever my perception of Israel - that's one of the most common clichés of the old Soviet propaganda that the new post-Soviet regimes have not yet got rid of completely. And I grew up being brainwashed this way. Though I never believed it.

But, on the other hand, I never really tried to find out what Israel was all about. I was behind the iron curtain, and Israel was just too far away, if it existed at all. Like everything that was mentioned in the Bible. The Bible was a legend, a fairy tale. We were taught that the whole Bible story had been invented by the church to keep people obedient and under control. So I didn't care much. Sorry. I was like Saul whose eyes were open, but could not see.

Now I just think I can see. I walked through all the holy Biblical places, I touched something that had been far beyond and outlandish to me. It is real! And what's more important, I started to discover things about Israel, about the Jewry, about Zionism. I discovered that the people of Israel are just human, talented, hard-working, patient, determined, courageous, compassionate, so different, but unanimous,  they are normal, just like us, only more united, more disciplined, aware of the hardships it took to accomplish what they did, to gain what they have. ...

Somewhere in numerous disputes and discussions about the Middle East conflict with different people in Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine, where I have been traveling, I started to refer to Israel and the Jewish people as "our country" "us", "we". And this fact somehow did not make my opponents (which there always were) surprised or call me a "traitor" in the old Soviet way. They saw me, I was one of them, I was not a monster, and nobody was asking if anyone of us was Jewish. When I said I was Jewish, it was easier for them to understand, but it is not yet quite customary to emphasize you are Jewish in the places where I live and work. Though, I must admit, more and more often I felt greater respect, sympathy and solidarity when I said I am Jewish.

By the way, where I live Jewishness is not a religious category or notion, but ethnic. And very many ethnic Jews have no idea of Judaism as a religion. I met some primitive-minded people in Russia, who condemn Jews and Judaism, because, as they were told, Judaism comes from the name Judas, the one who betrayed Christ. So in this crazy way they are taught to hate Jews. ...

Now back to Sar-El, which is the main point. As I said, I only remembered the name Sar-El. Since due to some specific reasons and the peculiarities of the environment, the Jewish Agency might seem at certain moments as something like a clandestine organization that one can find more easily through some friends and personal references, I could not find much information about Sar-El. I was lucky my parents knew somebody from the local Jewish community who had something to do with it and was a kind of "coordinator". Since my parents' reputation is beyond any doubt, I received a hearty welcome and got all the instructions and forms to fill. I read all that I could on the Sar-El website and other articles, comments and references pertaining to Sar-El, and I contacted the Sar-El office by email. all the arrangements were made without a single problem.

My family and friends had no idea about Sar-El, so I had to start my propagandist mission. It was strange, peculiar, unusual to them that now that I had quit the company where I had worked in Ukraine and am actually out of job or business, I chose to start with something unknown, to go to a "strange land" with does not exactly have the most safe political situation. And it's the army! But after some time my wife and father even wanted to come too. But my wife is busy teaching at school, and my Dad is turning 78. The Russian qualifications list that I was given said that the maximum qualifying age is 69. Anyway, finally I received understanding, moral and financial support for the mission. I had committed myself by then, anyway...

The flight to Israel was like a homecoming. It felt like "deja vu", - everything seemed familiar and usual, as if it was my everyday trip to work. I had a planned program, and I was sure I'd be taken care of, if necessary, and I was looking forward to all the exciting interesting things: I was going to serve as a soldier in the Israel Defense Force! The best army in the world today, as everybody knows. The word Tzahal is getting established in the Russian vocabulary. Israel was already my country, and it would be "my army"...

Three days later, on the train from Beersheba to Ben Gurion where the Sar-El volunteers were to meet, I felt as one of those Tzahal soldiers going to their bases. I was almost in the IDF, too! Full of pride and anticipation. I was going to do my duty to render some service to Israel. ...

At Ben Gurion everything went smoothly: I was met by three female soldiers working under Sar-El: Miri, Adva, Aviva, and Yarden. They were nice, and welcoming, and friendly girls. Pamela, the Chief Coordinator, came, too, checked the paperwork of the arriving volunteers, gave us relevant instructions, and assigned the whole group to the Batzap 382 IDF base. The group was made up of volunteers aged from 45 to 70, later a 35 year old volunteer Radavan came from Serbia. There were three married couples from the USA (Alfred and Mary from Milwaukee, Lowell and Betty from Kentucky, Zvi and Iris from the US Virgin Islands), two ladies from Washington DC and San-Francisco: Joanne and Betty-Rachel, Yefim-Chaim, the Russian-speaking guy from Oakland, veteran Moishe from the USA, Claude from Montreal, Canada, and Ola, the guy from Norway.

We were really so different and from such different places, of different origins. Yefim (Chaim) emigrated to the USA 26 years ago from the USSR. Claude is a French-Tunisian Jew living in Canada, Ola is from Norway (he turned out to be the greatest admirer and supporter of Israel), others had German, Belarusian, and I don't know whatever roots. But we were so alike! We were so close! We were like a family. We were a military unit, after all! Some were Jewish, some were Christians, but we all were
(and we are) Volunteers For Israel, patriots of Israel, united by our devotion to this country and people, to the Zionist cause. It is really rewarding to be able to work for this country, to contribute to its defense, to discover how many friends and comrades-in-arms we have all over the world. It is so nice to feel unanimous and share the views and feelings with so many different people, and to discover that we are not at all so different.

Our group was assigned to Batzap 382, a base dealing with repair and maintenance of communication equipment, helmets and headsets, logistics. There's no point describing what has already been described by others. But I think that there is noticeable progress in life on base. We were not more than 3 people in a barrack room. There was a Moadon room (volunteers' club called "Hard Rock Cafe") equipped with a satellite TV, a music center, tea and coffee to make whenever one felt like having one. The food at the soldiers' mess was really "gourmet": versatile, tasty, plentiful. My gastronomic knowledge is too poor to be able just to describe it. Back home nobody will believe me, anyway.

The evening activities were informative and educative. The madrichot girls organized them thoroughly, and they acted as lecturers, teachers, narrators, social directors, actors. And they were part of our unit. It was Miri, Adva, Aviva and Yarden during the first week, and then Hila was taking care of us.

One team was assigned to repair headsets and antennas, another one to repair and repaint shock-absorbing mountings with power connectors for radio stations mounted on tanks and armored vehicles. We also repainted helmets for further refurbishing. There was a lot of work to do, and the local personnel at the base kept constantly pointing out how they appreciated what we were doing, and how important it was to them to have so many units fixed. Combat readiness is top priority here. And the war in Lebanon had just ended a couple of months before. The work was not anything too sophisticated, but it took some effort at times. Everybody was standing by to help whenever necessary. The old Russian universal method worked, too: when it was just impossible to loosen some damaged or rusty bolt, a hammer and a chisel came in handy. I just knocked the bolt or screw off with a chisel. This practice was unusual, but willingly accepted, so I'm proud to have contributed with some hi-tech know-how.

Avi, the boss who was in charge of our workshop, despite being busy and constantly in a hurry, always stopped by and gave some piece of advice or showed how to do the job faster and the right way. The girl Orly, his deputy who was with us most of the time, was testing the finished units and was taking care of us, seeing to it that we could have coffee or tea in time, or that there'd be music playing for us. Avi also used to treat us with presents like packages of various biscuits to have with coffee, and he gave another package for us to pass to the other team that was working in another workshop. If there was some minor problem, it was enough to mention it casually in Orly's presence, and right away Avi would know about it, make a call, and in a few minutes there was no more problem, even with our room heaters or electric kettle in Moadon. And Karen, the girl in charge of the Helmets, kept visiting us asking how we were doing, sharing some advice, cheering us up. Which, of course, all the madrichot did. We felt important, pleased and proud.

It was real fun when, while working, the Russian- American guy was singing Russian and American songs, the Norwegian guy was singing or whistling a Russian song, the other Russian guy from Belarus was humming the theme from Edvard Grieg's Peer Gynt and Norwegian Wood from the Beatles, then we recited together with the Tunisian-Canadian guy Le Corbeau et le Renard by Jean de la Fontaine, all together sang La Marseillaise, then the guy from Belarus sang some long-forgotten American oldies, the Americans sang some Hebrew songs, and the we all crowned it with Hava Nagila. And it was mostly started subconsciously, spontaneously, no special setup. Who said we are all different? We feel the same, and we care enough to learn about each other.

We were all brought together by Israel, by the common cause. We were really satisfied with the organization. Even though there were times when the discipline seemed a bit too liberal, later we understood that it just seemed so. The soldiers with whom we worked and constantly communicated were very strict when it came to their duties, even in minor things, which we understood and appreciated. And many of those soldiers have their own personal or family problems, and even are allowed to work at nights outside the base, to support their families...

The sightseeing trips were very interesting and well-organized. Again I was overwhelmed by Jerusalem, especially by the Old City. This is where you touch history, going thousands of years back in time. You feel the holiness of every stone there. Overfilled with emotions you cannot breathe: just inhale and cannot exhale. The Place of Godly Presence...

The Palmach Museum in Tel-Aviv really impresses. It is so touching how the Israelis value their heroes, how they cherish the memory of those who gave their lives for the creation and independence of the State Of Israel. They have counted every person who fought in the ranks of the Palmach. While I know of some renowned grand military commanders who said that soldier is a "disposable material of war", and that soldier's life should not be spared in the battlefield.

After work, during our evening social activities I realized how ignorant I am about  questions concerning Israel, its life, culture, world Jewry. I only know some historical facts, geography, some names of political figures, some of the Middle East politics. While some volunteer ladies, even Christians, knew words of songs in Hebrew, some verses, phrases, writers and poets...

I hardly know about the Jewish traditions and customs, so I don't feel quite Israeli so far. But I know what I have to learn. I just want to know all that. I want to be part of it. It is my country now.

The three weeks flew by so fast, even though filled with so many events and impressions. Some of us stayed only for two weeks, and I was missing my new friends who were leaving, even before they left. Now we are looking forward to coming again. Sar-El values its veterans, as we understood. And we don't mind becoming Sar-El veterans.

Participation in this program as a Volunteer for Israel is the greatest event of the decade for me. It is all a great revelation. I started to discover so many important things. There is still so much to learn, to comprehend, to sort out and to share with my family, with my friends, with unknown people, if it comes to that. I will surely be an ambassador of goodwill for Israel, wherever I go. It is my country, too. And I will try to earn the privilege of being Israel's "own" citizen.

Thank you to all the Sar-El people for the great job they are doing. Thanks to General Davidi, with whom I had the honor to talk when he visited us at Batzap 382. Thanks to the base commander and his deputy Amrani Shlomo. I also want to thank all my new friends for their great company. Thank you for the warmth of your hearts that I can feel. Thanks for the touching tears in the eyes of some of you when saying goodbye. It's not goodbye, after all. It's SO LONG. Sounds like SHALOM, doesn't it? ...

Eugene Revin

Belarus

January 2007