September 27, 2026 · WordPress
America Thoughts
8 min read
For one month, during every year of their service, chayalim bodedim are given a one month leave to visit their families back home. The roundtrip flight is paid for by the army.
For many lone soldiers, myself included, the anticipation and excitement for this trip powers us through the many months away from our friends, loved ones, and life we knew back home. You count down the months and weeks until you finally get to travel back home, hang out with your friends, and free yourself from army responsibilities for an extended amount of time.
I requested my meyuchedet (the month vacation) for mid-june to mid-July. That way, I’d have 3 and a half months in the gdud and, upon returning, only 6 months left in the army. Spans of time that felt very very doable.
As with everything else in the army, there were issues I had to deal with and hurdles to jump through to finally leave on the trip (see previous blog post), but after over a year and a half without seeing friends back home, I finally made my way back to the states. I wanted to see as many people as I could and maximize my time. My plan was to spend a week in Florida, a week in California to see my Santa, and two weeks in New York. Almost all my friends were living in New York City. Plus, NYC is one of my favorite places and there’s no end to what you could do there so I figured it would be a good way to spend a couple of weeks.
A couple of lines on what I did during the meyuchedet before the thoughts being back in America gave me.
I spent the first week in Florida, back home. We didn’t do anything crazy: a nice dinner out, a relaxing Shabbat. My family was coming a couple weeks later to Israel for my younger sister’s wedding, so I didn’t feel the pressure to spend a great chunk of time in Florida.
After that, I flew to California for a week and my older sister joined. We spent time with my Savta and went to Catalina Island for a bit of camping and relaxation. I went into L.A. for a day too – because why not.
After that, I flew to NYC and spent the last two weeks of my vacation there. Nearly all of my friends in America are there and I love Manhattan, so I wanted to end in a happy place. Plus, it’s one of, if not the greatest city on Earth. No shortage of things to occupy my time with. I traveled up to Monticello for a couple of days to spend time by a friend at their lakehouse, but aside from that, spent every day in the city. I subscribed to AMC A-List, saw loads of movies in theaters, went to the Met Opera and saw Swan Lake, sat front row at Book of Mormon on Broadway, walked central park more times than I can count, went on a date or two. Overall a really great, maximal trip in NYC.
With the extra time on my hands throughout the month, I also decided to work on an AI coding project. I realized I had a blog for the army, another WordPress for travel writing, a substack for fiction writing, all my college articles on the college newspaper's site, and other miscellaneous writing. So, I built one site to aggregate them all: yonimayer.com
All the army blog posts, plus everything else I plan to publish, will go there.
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One of the things I thought I missed about America was the ease of shopping in general. Target, the everything store, where you can buy food and electronics and clothing in a single visit, rather than going to an individual store for each item like we do in Israel. Amazon, ordering anything you could ever dream of and having it delivered to your door in 2 days. And in general, seeing something online, wanting to buy it, and having the ability to (since everything pops up first in America, and is made for the American market.) But the first thought I had when I went to a Target by my house is that there’s too much. There’s too much choice it’s overwhelming. It’s such a consumer culture, that as soon as I looked for the first item on my list, I was blasted by the paradox of choice. Do I get this snack or this one? This lotion or that? This vitamin or that one? There’s an infinite amount of options for every little thing. I realized I’d gotten used to the Israeli way of things: a limited amount of options and a restricted amount of choice. In a way, its kind of nice
As soon as I got to New York City, I felt like I wasn’t making enough money or doing enough with my career. The thoughts that I’d buried since drafting to the army had all resurfaced. For the past year, I didn’t really care about my financial situation or the fact that my career had taken a backseat. I had resigned myself to the fact that for my time in the army these things didn’t matter. And Israeli society is conducive to that mindset. People don’t speak as much about careers or financial situations. It just isn’t as important here. In NYC, it’s everywhere; the conversations revolving money and career and business deals surround you like the hum of cicadas, always there, louder the more you pay attention to it. And its impossible not to get wrapped up in it. It’s the city that never sleeps. Always moving at breakneck pace. Walking the streets, taking the subway, there’s people dressed up in business or luxury attire and everyone seems like they have some sort of internal engine, pushing them to make more, spend more, consume more.
I dont mean any of this as a criticism necessarily on the city. I love the city. I was also wrapped up in that mindset and felt that the most important thing in the world was status and career and how safe your bank account felt. But when you’re out of that world, reentering it makes you feel like a fish out of water.
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I traveled to America during a time of intense American national pride. America was hosting the world cup and July 4th, which fell out during my trip, marked 250 years of America’s independence. The commercials on TV and in supermarkets were about July 4th, American flags (especially on Catalina Island) were hung everywhere, and it felt like everyone came together to follow the world cup. The US team also did surprisingly well and creates new soccer fans; Americans, eager to follow along and watch their national team succeed.
I think one of the shortcomings of olim chadashim is we pretend as though we’re starting anew. With the move across the world comes a new identity, new surroundings, new social circles, etc. Of course we’ll still have people bring Amazon packages to us when they visit or a favorite Trader Joe’s snack, but with the leap of Aliyah comes a certain acceptance that we leave our old lives behind.
Seeing all the American national pride while I was there did something to me. It reminded me of the American history that I learned in school growing up, the American way of life, the pride of living in the miracle that is America. As a Jew who grew up in a Zionist home and community, I’m of course familiar with Israeli history, but it always felt like learning the history of a foreign country (which at the time, it was). American history, the Boston tea party, Paul Revere, Revolutionary war, westward expansion, Civil war; these are the stories I grew up with in school. It wasn’t until going back to America that I realized how much America is a part of my DNA. I visited America for a cousin’s wedding about a year after moving to Israel, but I didn’t feel it then. It’s the contrast now of being in an entirely Israeli environment in the army, that the whiplash of going to America in a time where the country is filled with national pride, that I really felt and remembered my American upbringing.
This doesn’t mean anything in regards to my happiness with the decision to move to Israel. It just reframes my orientation towards being an Oleh Chadash. I can’t remove America from my character entirely. As much as you want to become Israeli, you still have your past. This is a lesson that I’ve definitely learned the hard way, bumping my head up against the wall in the army trying to force myself to become more Israeli. You still have your upbringing, primary education, the culture you consumed, the history you learned, the way of life. It’s all a part of your DNA. What it did demonstrate to me is that I’ll need to go back and visit every once in awhile. I do want to feel that American part of myself every once in a while.
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One of the most prominent feelings I had during my trip, was the absurdity that nothing has changed for my friends. My life has been upended multiple times; moving to Israel, starting a job, drafting to the army. I would talk to them about what’s new for them, hoping to hear big life changes. Also, naively assuming that as my life progressed and took on different shapes, so had theirs. “Nothing,” they would reply. “Work is good, my friends are good, I took a nice week-long vacation a couple months ago.” Life is pretty much the same for them.
It’s a humbling truth, maybe a reality I have subconsciously tried avoiding these past few years with all the different changes I’ve forced into my life. Eventually I’ll get back to that way of life. I’ll rejoin the workforce. My days will look generally the same and the army will be a memory. Time will march on.
I”ll always find ways to make life exciting, and I hope I find myself in a career that grants me that opportunity. But once the time for my release has come, I think I’ll welcome going back to the routine of everyday life. Being able to build my life again and focusing on other things that matter (without a two and a half week break in between each opportunity). I’ve already begun counting down.