Yom HaZikaron, Yom Ha'Atzmaut
May. 6th, 2003 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidToday is Yom HaZikaron, Israeli Memorial Day. In the States, Memorial Day has always been more of an excuse for a Monday off than an actual holiday with any sort of observance. We never did anything to remember vets, or anything like that.
In Israel, it was completely different (note: this is based on the years I lived there, which is over a decade ago now (I can't believe that's correct, but it is.).). Most people have the day off, and many of them visit cemeteries, especially the military ones. I remember going the second year, just to see what people did; I'd never seen a whole cemetery actually crowded before. Families were visiting graves together, old and young, religious and non. And at one point (in the afternoon? noon? I don't remember, exactly) the sirens went off, and everything stopped. Literally, everything. I was in Machaneh Yehudah, a covered market usually filled with all sorts of hubbub, and everything went silent, as the sirens rang out for silence, for memory. Cars stopped where they were in the streets. No one talked, just stood and thought, and you knew that this was happening over the entire country. It's incredibly intense.
I think that there are a couple of reasons it's so very different. Israel is a young country, still close to its War of Independence, and those that have followed. Israel has seen far too much fighting in its life already, fighting that continues. Whatever your opinion of the correctness of the fighting, it means that everyone knows someone who has been affected, injured or killed or orphaned. (Almost) everyone does military service, and knows just what it's like to be in those kinds of difficult situations, rather than the few being the proud, as it were. Israel is also a small country, so each of those deaths have touched a greater percent of the population than in the parallel situation in the U.S.
And then, as the sun sets on this quiet day of remembrance (really, the root of zikaron has to do with remembering, rather than memorializing), the mood changes completely. Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Israeli Independence Day, starts (as all days on the Jewish/Israeli calendar (not that they are the same, exactly, but for ease of use I'm lumping them here)) at sunset, and the rejoicing begins. Fireworks and parties, dancing and drinking, blue and white flags all over the place. The picnics during the day practically cover the parks completely. It's an astonishing transition.
Today is Yom HaZikaron, and tonight it is Yom Ha'Atzmaut. Neither feels as present as I'd like just now.
In Israel, it was completely different (note: this is based on the years I lived there, which is over a decade ago now (I can't believe that's correct, but it is.).). Most people have the day off, and many of them visit cemeteries, especially the military ones. I remember going the second year, just to see what people did; I'd never seen a whole cemetery actually crowded before. Families were visiting graves together, old and young, religious and non. And at one point (in the afternoon? noon? I don't remember, exactly) the sirens went off, and everything stopped. Literally, everything. I was in Machaneh Yehudah, a covered market usually filled with all sorts of hubbub, and everything went silent, as the sirens rang out for silence, for memory. Cars stopped where they were in the streets. No one talked, just stood and thought, and you knew that this was happening over the entire country. It's incredibly intense.
I think that there are a couple of reasons it's so very different. Israel is a young country, still close to its War of Independence, and those that have followed. Israel has seen far too much fighting in its life already, fighting that continues. Whatever your opinion of the correctness of the fighting, it means that everyone knows someone who has been affected, injured or killed or orphaned. (Almost) everyone does military service, and knows just what it's like to be in those kinds of difficult situations, rather than the few being the proud, as it were. Israel is also a small country, so each of those deaths have touched a greater percent of the population than in the parallel situation in the U.S.
And then, as the sun sets on this quiet day of remembrance (really, the root of zikaron has to do with remembering, rather than memorializing), the mood changes completely. Yom Ha'Atzmaut, Israeli Independence Day, starts (as all days on the Jewish/Israeli calendar (not that they are the same, exactly, but for ease of use I'm lumping them here)) at sunset, and the rejoicing begins. Fireworks and parties, dancing and drinking, blue and white flags all over the place. The picnics during the day practically cover the parks completely. It's an astonishing transition.
Today is Yom HaZikaron, and tonight it is Yom Ha'Atzmaut. Neither feels as present as I'd like just now.