When I moved to the States, one of the things that struck me the most as a disturbingly strange national and social mutant, which throughout the years I’ve even more strangely grown to accept, was Memorial Day, or… Memorial Day Weekend. Opening shot of summer, a symbol of vacation, sun, sand, beaches, and shopping. Lots and lots of shopping. Frozen in front of the TV, in a state of shock, , I watched back then endless commercials announcing Memorial Day sales. I needed to keep watching them to believe that it was real. And finally, at the end of my fascinated research, I came to the conclusion that here, in the Unites States, Memorial Day is for fun and leisure. I remember asking myself whether in America people care less about their dead soldiers. It’s such a young and naïve question (well I was very young and naïve…), but can definitely open up a very mature and important discussion. Not on this post, though. Please forgive.
Memorial Day, where I came from, where I am visiting these days, is a sad day.
A day to remember all of those who lost their lives protecting the nation, fighting for it, and sacrificing the most important thing, so we could have and continue to have Israel.
Memorial Day begins with a moment of silence. All over the country, for one minute, 60 seconds, people stand in silence. No matter what they are doing, for one moment it all stops; cars, buses, trucks, trains, machines, and people, all people as one. It always seemed to me so natural and organic to a nation, until I traveled outside of Israel. A united moment of standing in silence, honoring those who died, or honoring anything, is probably impossible anywhere else. But it’s such an integral part of Israel; you never forget how you got to your “here and now”. Memorial Day in Israel is not a bookend holiday, or part of the first summer weekend sale. It’s melancholic and solemn and depressing.
Three hours ago a loud siren transfixed the air here in Israel, and about 7 million people stood up to honor powerful ideas, thoughts and emotions. Memorial Day in Israel, and I’m back here again.
Tomorrow night we are celebrating 60 years of existence that is never obvious. And because the journey is never taken for granted, Memorial Day always comes to us the day before Independence Day. Watching it all as an outsider, you may think it’s all insane and way too intense for your psyche. And after a whole day of sad songs on the radio (all channels, yes!) and constant acknowledgment of unbearable deaths, the last thing you’d be able to do is go out partying all night. Not to mention spend the next day barbequing. It definitely does look peculiar when we artificially say “now we cry”, and the next day “now we’re happy”, if you don’t know the idea behind it (and even if you do, you still know it’s strange, and you acknowledge its strangeness, that’s part of the idea…).
The happiest day of the nation is preceded by a day of mourning the people who died for our freedom and independence. Whether they knew it or not, whether they wanted it or not, they sacrificed themselves so we could celebrate something that sadly cannot be obvious- the independence and successful existence of Israel.
Israel is a very emotional, sappy and sentimental nation. We let it all out, we don’t keep it inside. We are emotionally available. Our grief and joy are both total, intense, and wholehearted.
We tell it like it is (you may have heard…).
And these two days, Memorial Day, followed by Independence Day, are…bluntly...
telling it (to ourselves) like it is.
