Little Boys.

(Reading that title, it’s sounds like this is the blog of a pedophile.)


So quite a few of my friends here in ulpan will be going off to the army in the next couple months. One joined like two weeks ago, some are joining in October, some in November…. It’s just very funny to hear the difference. What difference?

When I talk to each of these boys on their own, each one talks about how they’re excited about joining the army, but how they’re also terrified. They’re scared about being stuck in the country without the option of going back (if you’re in the ulpan and you miss home, you’re free to leave Israel and go back to Europe or the US or wherever without problems…if you’re in the army, it’s my understanding that going home and leaving Israel is considerably more difficult). They’re scared about not being able to understand everything and fucking up something serious because of their lack of Hebrew skills. They’re scared of something bad happening to them (they’re all going to be combat soldiers), which I can totally imagine is a scary thought. They’re scared just because they don’t have the familiarity of the workings of the army and shit like that, like native Israelis do, and because they’re still in the terrifying process of simply settling down in Israel, without the added burden of having to deal with all this army stuff.

I get told this because I’m a girl and I don’t think it’s as embarrassing for a guy to let a girl know he’s scared (as long as he’s not crying hysterically….) as it is for a guy to admit to other guys that he’s scared. And I totally understand and feel total empathy or sympathy or whatever word it is in this situation, because I’m scared about joining the army and, for me, it’s not even a final 100 percent deal yet. And for me, I have one less thing to worry about, because there’s no way in hell that the army is going to send me into a place like Gaza, whereas the guys are all going to be combat. I don’t for a second think any less of these guys for being scared about army service, but for the sake of what I’m about to say, just remember that pretty much the ONLY thing that each friend tells me in private about the army is that he is quite scared.

What I find really funny and endearing in all of this though, is when all the guys get together. It’s like an alternate, testosterone-filled universe. Each one tries to be manlier than the other. Two brag about how many Arabs they’re going to kill. One talks about which units are more “heroic” than others, and then starts speculating on what job or unit or whatever he will have, basing his choices on whichever unit he considers on that particular day to be the most heroic. Another talks about how all the years of his embarrassing failures that shamed his parents back home will disappear once he becomes a soldier, because he’s really going to “do something.” One of them will suggest that X unit/job is the most dangerous, and all of them will jump to say that THEY’RE going to join that particular unit. Then a different boy will suggest that a different unit is manlier and more dangerous, and suddenly all the boys want to do THAT job. No no no, no mention of fear or uncertainty or uneasiness—no. Here, the only thing the guys felt was that they weren’t just going to be “plain ol’ soldiers,” they were going to be fearless heroes.

I don’t know. All of this is rather…cute. They’re like little boys. It reminded me of being in preschool because at that time I was only friends with boys. Here’s the reason in short: with two older brothers at home, I was a huge fan of Ninja Turtles, whereas girls my age were interested in My Little Pony, which could kiss My Little Ass. So all my friends (who were all named Daniel, since I went to a pre-Jew-school) were little boys who loved pretending to rescue things. You know, during break the little girls would be playing house or playing with the dolls, but the boys would make believe that they were heroic American soldiers, or they were heroic firemen, or heroic knights, or heroic Super Mario Brothers. Whatever they were, they had to be manly. They could have pretended to be garbage truck drivers, as long as they were HEROIC garbage truck drivers. Normally when people say what I’m about to say, usually they mean it in a bad way. But it’s kind of sweet to know that I guess little boys don’t grow up.

Awwwwww!!!!