If the first day
of the Shabbaton had a theme, it would undoubtedly be “enthusiastic
exhaustion.” It seemed that Thursday was even more of a whirlwind than the
opening ceremony the night before. To be seated in a hot bus with bags stacked
in the aisles and 40 other teens for several hours doesn't sound ideal, but
looking back I somehow can’t imagine doing anything better. It’s hard to fathom
how the Israeli fellows could exert any energy towards us whatsoever
(considering that their internal clocks probably had broken gears at this
point), but as demonstrated by their animated reaction to simply crossing the
Golden Gate Bridge, they seemed to have no shortage of pizzazz to put forth. Roughly 2 hours and 5 new Israeli slang words
later, we arrived at Camp Newman. After receiving our bunk mates and settling in
briefly, we made our way to the dining hall. The Americans, I’m sure, all had a
knot of dread tied in their stomachs, but seeing our partners’ exuberance, it
was hard to focus on the less than gourmet cuisine. Once dinner was over, activities
and ice breakers ensued in true Diller fashion. The most memorable perhaps
being the partner activity in which we were instructed to act out a particular
place from each other’s homes. I have to say, some of the representations I saw
should have been deemed the new wonders of the world. I found it hilarious and
amazing that we were all able to pull ourselves together and overcome fatigue,
language barriers, and unfamiliarity all for the sake of this one exercise,
which I suppose was the whole point of it to begin with.
While of course
truly interacting with the Israeli teens for the first time carries special
significance that I won’t be soon to forget, the most memorable and most
outrageous part of Thursday in my humble opinion was our ma’agal that night. I
can say with confidence I was only about 60% conscious for its duration, and
I’m assuming others might concur. But while we were all completely burnt out, I
was definitely impressed that we were able to come up with a proper mission
statement for community week. Strangely enough, I found this combination of
serious work and sheer hysteria a pretty good representation of our cohort’s
dynamic. Out of disorganization and lightweight delirium, we still managed to
be productive (to an extent). Even in that state of weariness, I could see we
were primed to develop new in-depth acquaintances, continue to get closer as a
cohort, and ultimately make the most of our time at Newman, no matter how much sleep
we would end up getting. In retrospect, I’d gladly have traded in those hours
for the new experiences and friends I gained, and it’s safe to say the ends more
than justified the means.
By Samara Meyer
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