While I am not usually a coffee drinker, there are times when I cannot resist a nice coffee a-fuch. While it does taste and appear much like a cappuccino, coffee a-fuch is actually a drink unique to Israel. Literally, it means “upside down coffee.” Think about it. Take coffee, the world most popular daily beverage (among people who can read) and turn that small representative of daily life upside down. I cannot think of a more appropriate place for such a thing than in Israel, a country that always seems to be doing things upside down.

Just look at the news today. Our nation is under attack. On a clear day, I can see Gaza from my window. We continue to be pummeled by rockets and mortars. Of course, the media don’t really make a big deal about this because not enough of us are dead. But let’s not just sit around and blame the reporters, our government also seems to think that rocket attacks are hardly exceptional. Consider that the Prime Minister has ruled out a large scale operation to actually stop the rockets. The State today argued in court against providing funds to fortify buildings in Sderot because it would set a dangerous precedent. If they did that then any Israeli city undergoing rocket attack would be eligible for funds to build defenses. Can’t have too many people demanding that their government protect them, right? Upside down logic.

Imagine – just imagine for a second – someone lobbing rockets into an American city. It wouldn’t matter if Hillary, Rudy, McCain, or even Obama was in charge. The “Breaking News” story announcing that the rocket shooters had been wiped out and the country that hosted them was now a parking lot would be on the air before anyone even heard about the attack. People wouldn’t even have to miss a football game to follow the story. They would just nod their heads and say “of course.”

How about this story? A group of teenage girls were arrested for the crime of trying to build a few shacks on land that the government is trying to give to the guys launching the rockets. (Read that sentence a few times, I’m not making this stuff up.) The teenage girls refused to give their names to the special attack squads that rounded them up. So now, they have been locked up in prison and according to many reports strip searched and harassed.

Strip searching teenage girls? Just what were the police afraid they had hidden on their bodies? Maybe textbooks? (Since the government decided that it was better for all high schoolers to miss about half a year of school rather than give the teachers decent wages.) What civilized country in the world would imprison teenage girls for weeks for refusing to give their names?

The State really imprisoned these girls because their actions might undermine the “peace process.” Hello? Maybe the guys launching rockets at us are undermining the “peace process.” Maybe the guys who still have young Gilad Shalit in chains for over a year are undermining the “peace process.” Maybe the guys shooting hikers half an hour from my house are “undermining the peace process.” Upside down logic. If we just use force against our own people and give in to every demand our enemy makes, maybe they will like us. Only in a country where people drink upside down coffees could anyone believe such upside down logic.

Yet, I have a confession to make. I also drink Coffee A-fuch. I also use upside down logic. I still think that despite all the nonsense, despite the latest threats by our enemies, despite the Monty Python-esque actions of our government, there is nowhere in the world that I would rather live. The land of Israel is truly spectacular and my greatest joy is riding a bicycle through the “occupied territory.” I still am an optimist that one day, we will have new leadership that will stand up to our enemies and take care of our people.

But until then, I’ll take a “gadol a-fuch.”

© 2008 Yarden Frankl, who lives in Neve Daniel. He appreciates being taken out for coffee a-fuch.

You grew up in a typical dati neighborhood in America. Let’s say Potomac, Maryland. The community was not so huge, and you pretty much got to know everyone who lived there. Every week, your parents invited friends over for Shabbat, or you went out to their houses. You become close friends with the guys you saw in shul, in the soccer league, and around the Shabbat tables of the community.

You also were taught certain values as you grew up. You learned about the Torah, not from school, but from how people lived their lives. You saw that the adults in the community looked out for all the children, and that you always had a place you could go and someone you could talk to. You knew you could ask Rav S. for advice about anything. Your fondest memories were stopping by Mr. R’s house to shoot some hoops, or Mrs. F’s where there were always some tasty cakes out on the counter.

You remember coming home one day and seeing your parents with tears rolling down their cheeks. On the television, the Trade Towers and the Pentagon were on fire. You heard the announcer say that thousands of people had been killed. The husband of someone from Potomac was missing and presumed dead. Everyone in Potomac was crying. Inside you burned with anger at those who would murder innocent people.

After you finished school, you decided to enlist in the Army. You never forgot how you felt on 9/11. You wanted to do whatever you could to punish those responsible and stop all others who wanted to kill innocent people and attack your nation. You wanted to dedicate your life to preventing more terrorist attacks. You were ready to go to Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran – anywhere America has enemies.

In the Army, you volunteered for every elite unit, every dangerous assignment. You were shot at so many times that you lost track. You saw friends killed in combat, but never for one instant did you regret your decision to join the Army. You thought of all the people back home in Potomac who could rest easier because people like you were fighting America’s enemies.

Then one day you received unusual orders. For some reason, the President had ruled that your old community was to be evacuated. The people who lived there decided that they would not simply abandon their homes. Your unit was assigned the task of evicting them. You were handed a list of homes that were to be cleared and then destroyed. In disbelief you saw Mr. R’s house and Mrs. F’s. You were marched to your Rav’s house where his family, the kids you had babysat for, stood crying, pleading with anyone who would listen not to throw them out of their home. You saw your fellow soldiers going into the very houses where you had hung out on Shabbat afternoons and dragging people you knew out into the street.

You looked into the eyes of the people who had helped you all your life. You remembered all the values you had been taught and your reason for joining the military. You looked into the eyes of Rabbi S. and saw tears streaming down his face, shaking his head.

You turn away, hand your gun to another soldier, and tell your commanding officer that you cannot be part of this, you cannot follow these orders. You are arrested and taken to a military jail. You are broken. You sit wondering where the Rs and the Fs and everyone else are going to live. You wonder what you will do now. You wonder if anyone thinks you made the right decision.

When you write for a living, it is not unusual to receive feedback. Sometimes people agree with you, sometimes they don’t. The organization I work for is currently promoting an educational trip to Israel. Someone who had read Crossing the Yarden sent the following in response:

“God forbid, how could anyone partake in a trip by an organization whose staff leadership advocates Israeli solders disobey orders, en masse, and looks forward to a religious military usurping the authority of the elected civilian leadership. That would be Jordan Frankl, proof that idiots can make aliyah.”

Unlike the fellow who wrote the above (from his home in America), I will one day have children in the IDF. I know I will worry about them all the time. I will also be proud that they are participating in the defense of the Jewish homeland. Yet I will feel even prouder if G-D forbid, they are one day given immoral orders, and they say no.

If that makes me an idiot, then I accept that title with honor.

Shabbat Shalom from our blessed nation.