Unpacked: A Walker Returns Home

An hour and a gas station’s chip-aisle, and I realize what I will miss most about the army: Following Orders.

Hi Everyone!

I’m back home for a few days from the reserves- to spend time with Chana, rest my legs, and gear up for my final week of duty. I’ve missed Unpacking with you so much! No joke- the writing and your comments have made my year very substantive, and my two weeks of blog-absence really highlighted that for me.

I am so excited to be writing again! Thank you for that.

Special thanks to Simcha for his guest posts. To learn more about his organization, Call of the Shofar, click on the link to the right, under “Suggested Links.”

So back to following orders. And chips.

I made my way home to Jerusalem from my base near the town of Shechem (Nablus) via a mix of rides and buses. During a stop in between, I spotted a gas station and its accompanying convenience store.

Two weeks in the army gives me real things to miss: my wife, my home, etc.

But there is a small pocket in my soul that aches for potato chips. Yes- amidst the incoming hordes of army eggs, processed chicken cutlets and white bread was a craving for the peaceful, therapeutic, spiritually enhancing aura of crunchiness.

And therefore, the opportunity to chip away at this void (ha ha) succeeded in drawing my attention, my legs and my wallet, even at the expense of delaying my trip home by a few minutes.

So I venture into the store.

I am flooded by fluorescent bliss. And a store-full of food. A clerk and cash-register to accommodate my chip-wishes and dreams.

And then: Oh no!- Choices! Plain chips, Barbecue chips, ruffled, Mexican-style, baked. What is a soldier- who has lived devoid of choices of what to do, what to wear, what to eat- to do?

I want you to understand: A soldier no-doubt faces the front-lines of a complex reality. And I’ve spent this month at a checkpoint through which thousands of Palestinians pass through on their way to work and school everyday- so believe me when I say that I have been facing the front-lines of the front-lines of a complex reality.

But the way a basic soldier deals with this reality is very non-complex. I look for weapons and/or explosives and those who might be carrying them, and do my best to facilitate smooth passage for everyone else. I do lots of thinking about the situation, but my actions have little to do with those thoughts. I have a very strict protocol to follow.

In the army, I have a schedule- say eight hours of duty per day. I rest when I finish, eat when I’m told, and am woken up to return to duty. It might sound a little crazy, but I happen to love the simplicity this life entails. I read more, I think more, I am not burdened by what I am supposed to be doing.

And so, still-dressed in green, I face the chip choices before me and realize: For a few days, I will have to make my own decisions.

Kermit the Frog always told us, “It’s not easy being green.” And he was a pretty smart guy. But I beg humbly to differ on this point.

For me, it’s sometimes easiest being green.

Back at the gas station, a bit jealous of Kermit’s permanent state of green, I choose plain chips and take a deep breath.

I open the bag, and then…

CRUNCH!

Magic! The first bite of chip, and I am flooded with the beauty of civilization. Yes- it’s very easy to have my meals dictated to me. But do I not want the freedom to choose chips? I think of the luxury to ask, to question, to enjoy my successful choices and experience my failed ones, and I get very excited.

I savor the bag’s final chip, and wait for the bus to take me home. Home, the place from where the struggle to make choices is mine. This short break from the army will be lived in a daze- to work? To write? To rest? But what a privilege to be able to choose!

Tomorrow I go back for another eight days of duty at the checkpoint. I hope it’s boring and quiet, and that it goes by fast. After a few days at home, it is pretty difficult to go back. I’ll bring books and a notebook with me, and try my best to honor my position and do a good job.

But I’ll make sure to grab a bag of chips on my way out, and meditate upon each crunch: No doubt I will once again fall into the rhythm of the army and its simplicity. But I will of course remember potato chips. Chips, choices, and all the great things that make us human.

Did you enjoy this post? Subscribe via RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 1st, 2008 at 7:51 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.