“Have you ever killed anybody?”
Not the kind of question the average kid at summer camp poses to his counselor. Yet Eldad Argov is not the average counselor.
“I tell them, ‘Fortunately, I didn’t,'” said Argov, a 22-year-old Haifa native working this summer as a shaliach (Israel emissary) at Camp Tawonga near Yosemite. “They’re very ignorant about the army. They see it as ‘Rambo’ coming to life. I bring the experience down to earth for them; I tell them it’s not fun, not something you enjoy. I share my experiences about the different challenges I faced and they understand.”
Argov is one of 1,000 young Israelis working at 180 Jewish camps throughout the United States. Locally, Camp Tawonga has four shlichim, while the Reform movement’s Camp Newman and Camp Swig have 14 and five, respectively.
The nearly 40-year-old program includes summer camps of the Reform movement, Young Judaea, Habonim-Dror and the Jewish community centers. The program has grown annually since its inception and fielded about 6,000 applicants this year, according to the Jewish Agency for Israel.
Rei Dishon, another 22-year-old Haifa native working at Tawonga, applied to the program for a number of reasons. First of all, he enjoys nature trips with young campers more than Israel Defense Force drills.
“It’s a really good program; they shorten your army service by two months. Instead of training in the Golan Heights, you go the United States to represent Israel,” said Dishon, now enjoying his second summer at Tawonga. “Also, it’s kind of a free trip to the States. It’s really interesting for me because one of the majors I had in school was sociology. One of the topics we studied was how people adjust to another culture. Here, I actually [experience] it.”
After they make the cut as shlichim, the young Israelis often have little idea where the Jewish Agency will send them. In addition, because religious observance varies from camp to camp, some of the more observant camps will accommodate secular shlichim by giving them the opportunity to transfer to a less-observant facility.
Many shlichim experienced a double-edged culture shock upon starting work at the camps. Not only were they unfamiliar with American culture, many had never spent time in a wilderness environment.
“I love nature and do not like cities, but I live in Haifa, which is a city. I go hiking a lot, but not like this, not in the middle of nature,” said Argov. “The river is two minutes away from our bunks. I spend at least a half hour a day in the river.”
Like many Israelis, Dishon began learning English in the fourth grade. When he got to the United States, however, he quickly learned his schooling would only go so far.
“There are different meanings behind the language, what people tell you and what they mean. In Israel, when you say ‘whatever,’ it means ‘I’m going to do it, but I’m not OK with it.’ Here it means ‘I hate you,'” he said, noting that the phrase is often uttered contemptuously.
Another funny one is “one second, hold on.” Israelis use a hand signal. (They hold the back of the hand outward, with the thumb against four extended fingers, and move the hand up and down.) But “wth the kids here,” said Dishon, “when you say ‘hold on’ and make the signal, they don’t understand.”
Still, American children and even young teenagers are not all that different from Israelis, the shlichim contend.
“Until age 18, the Israelis and Americans are kind of similar. We watch the same movies and listen to the same music,” said Lior Levi, a 23-year-old from Tel Aviv working as a bunk counselor at Camp Tawonga. “But instead of going to college, we go to the army. That’s a big difference.”
The shlichim’s status as IDF veterans naturally leads campers to ask questions about the ongoing Mideast violence.
“Right now all I can say is I’m really sad; it’s the only thing I can say as an Israeli,” said Levi. “We get Israeli newspapers, and I talk to my parents once a week and I’m too afraid to ask them what is going on. I’m scared, to tell you the truth.”
Argov, however, sees things differently.
“Somebody brought it to my awareness that people get killed here too. In Israel you are killed for religion; here it is for drugs or I don’t know what,” he said.
“I don’t see the violence as a good thing, but what is there to say about it? Nobody likes it, but it’s happening. I share my opinion about using violence as a solution to things and [campers] understand I don’t support it. I take care of it by trying to make my environment nonviolent.”