A Herzl Hanukkah … in Israel!
December 12, 2010 by Herzl Camp Admin, under General Posts.
By Tracy Altman
The Herzl community does not compare to any other! Herzl alumni are spread across the world and with all the traveling I do, I’m certain to see someone from camp on each of my trips. The best thing about this community is how inclusive everyone is and how people see the importance of inviting others to share holidays and Shabbat meals together. After 13 years at camp, hundreds of campers later and best friends across the globe, there’s almost no way to explain how great it is to sit down with camp friends for any kind of event.
Living in Chicago I am surrounded by Herzl people. Whether it’s Jared Rosenbloom, Danny Pesis and Brad Benenson who live directly across the street or Jessica Treinish who is about a 20 minute walk, there’s always someone to talk about camp and share a meal or holiday with. Recently I hosted a Shabbat dinner and eight of the ten people there went to camp. The other two did well to hold their own but inevitably had to participate in some camp talk during the evening. I applaud the non-Herzl folk, they have heard so many stories overtime and am glad they can feel comfortable and even add to Herzl stories that they’ve heard.
One of my favorite camp gatherings that sticks out during this time of the year was when I was visiting my brother in Israel a few years ago during Chanukah. Brian and Craig Basman were in their second year of medical school, Carly Alexander was in her first, Yamit Taragan was working and living there, Dan Usem was studying abroad and Laurel Herold was on a post-college program. Brian was insistent that we have latkes at the Chanukah party and that I make them! I’m not a latke-maker so I picked up the box version from Target and schlepped them to Israel to make for the party. I learned three things that night: 1) Cooking latkes is NOT my thing but making them with Yamit clearly makes it better and messier! 2) The art of getting pomegranate seeds out of the shell is whacking it with a large spoon until they all drop in the bowl (it actually works!!) 3) Getting together with camp people in Israel is incredible! There’s something so exciting about seeing each other there and celebrating Jewish holidays together.
Another great memory of gathering with Herzl alumni was when Herzl asked people to host Sukkah parties in various cities. I was living in Washington DC at the time and the Cukiers were our hosts for the night. I think 10 of us went to their apartment and walked in to see handmade signs/drawings outside the apartment and Herzl garb spread out on the couch and chairs. It was such a fun night getting to relive great memories, reconnect with my Papa Ozo (Aaron Cukier) and laugh a lot at ridiculous camp stories. The following year when we had another sukkah party, it was hosted by Daniel Chait and Evan Jacobson. I think everyone would agree that the highlight of that night was when the boys showed off some dance moves that Jenny taught them at camp.
Clearly with Herzl alumni spread around the country, there has to be someone who wants to light the menorah with you, go to services together or share a Shabbat dinner. Take some time to think about people you haven’t seen lately from camp and how you guys can get together to share a holiday with. All you need is one camp memory to get you started and the night goes on from there.
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Everything I’ve learned about life, I learned at Herzl Camp
July 15, 2010 by Herzl Camp Admin, under What I Learned from Camp.
By Max and Zach Puchtel
Part 6 – In the Old Chadar/The Event (2 of 2)
…so there we were. Max and I, now properly seated next to the kitchen in anticipation of this occasion that had recently been labeled the Event. (108. Max likes to make spectacles of things.) Being Shabbat afternoon, the Old Chadar was filled with a buzz that resembled a beehive, making the temperature rise to where the walls were beginning to sweat. To combat the heat, 3 ceiling fans were turned on, and the lights were turned off. (109. This did not help) We were lucky enough to have one of the padded seats, which meant that our tuchuses (110. tuchim?) would not be numb by the end of dinner. A girls cabin was complaining that their table was gone (111. It was destroyed in the 2000 Ozo play by Michael Schachtman’s back), and so they were forced to sit at a splintered, sagging table instead. (112. This paints an accurate picture of pre-renovated camp, thank you donors!!).
Around our table, which had been carefully handpicked for the Event, were two other seasoned competitors: Joey the Vacuum Jaffe, whose mother, Auntie Roe, we were all sure to see afterwards, (113. Both for cookies and for internal bleeding) and Jared the Squirrel Steyaert, who despite his minimal stature (114. 6’2” in this group is minimal) was a force to be reckoned with. The requirement for the remaining 12 seats was simple; while sitting down, I would form a “T” by stretching my arms straight out to both sides. If, when seated, your head fit below my arms, you were in. (115.Amy Rivkin, Tracy Altman, Zach Freeman, Michael Schachtman, Jenny Chaitkin (116. When she became a Puchtel, she grew 2 inches…), Macaroni Kornblum…STAND UP!! Love you guys…) In actuality, Miles, my camper who took a broom to final banquet (117. True story) was a staple under my left arm. The skill with which this boy could dump and run was unparalleled in camp history. He was small enough to duck in and around any line that had formed near the kitchen, but more importantly was cute enough to melt Brandon’s heart into filing up his bucket.
We were set; big eaters, small runners, elbow room, honey, water, loose belts and glory ahead. It felt like the Mariokart stoplight when the Aleph sign was raised to the rusty hooks, signifying the commencement of ultimate indulgence. Miles shot out of a cannon and delivered the first batch of chicken nuggets before others were out of their seats, “DUMP AND RUN!!” being the unified chant to our smaller companions. (Note: The nuggets we were using in our contest were not your Wendy’s nicely formed nuggets. These things were monstrosities. Some looked like they actually had a baby chicken inside them, and others had 3 nuggets attached … which would count as only 1 nugget). A mountain of chicken was now the centerpiece of our Chadar table. (118. which honestly, is not a fancy dining table, thank you Marty Wasserman). Now, consumption…
Despite their hideous form, the first 20 went down easy. Passerbys became more frequent, as did their questions; “How’s it going?”, “How many does Jaffe have?”, “Are you going to beat your brother?” to which I replied, “Awesome, not as many as me, and of course.” 30…35…40…little bit of honey…five at a time…steady big fella…little bit of water…45…the table next to us exploded with excitement, “Gelperin has 60!!” Oh no he doesn’t!! I threw on my blinders and the numbers began to rise: 45… unfazed… 50… still feeling good…55…what’s that stomach? You’re getting full? Rule #76, Play like a champion, no excuses!…60…there’s this pain developing in my abdominal region… 65…and then came Steve Mintz strolling in with a childish grin on his face. We knew what it meant – he loved The Event but was forced to be the responsible one that made sure the kids actually ate. (119. If not for Steve, campers would spend their entire lunch watching us eat and cheering, forgetting that they themselves needed nourishment.) “Guys, I have to call it.” Like Apollo Creed in Rocky III, I begged Steve to not throw in the towel, and to let us go on. “OK,” he said, “You have 10 minutes, make it good.”
Re-energized with RUACH (120. RUACH!!), I looked to my right once more, Aaron’s face had gone purple and he was officially knocked out at 66…Jaffe was nearing 70 and slowing, and Steyaert fought a brave fight but surrendered at 67, claiming his inner child could take no more. Max and I knew that this was a two man race. 70…are we really doing this?…75…must…beat…brother…80…Max looks up from his plate, in what seemed like slow motion now due to the over-consumption. The world was blurred and slow. “Truce?” he muttered, knowing good and well that it would not be the case. Starting to see colors (121. and Rosemary), I knew the end was near one way or the other.
The last dump and run was made, as the kitchen had been eaten clean. There were 7 left. There would be one winner and one loser. I looked at Max, he looked at me. We were both “winners” at this point, but we knew that one Puchtel had to prevail in this gluttonous display. We each took 1, dipped it in honey, and down. 81…
…Birkat was ready to begin, and Mickey Greenberg was not too pleased. No matter, destiny was on our side. As I dipped number 82 in the plastic honey cup, Max experienced what many experts would describe as “an explosion”. With iron jaws he was able to cut the flow, containing most of the nugget mess to his side of the table…
…that was it, all I had to do was eat one more! I gladly took down 3 celebratory nuggets, and the event was mine!! (122. There is no prize for eating the most chicken nuggets, only bragging rights for life).
We left after Birkat, and retired to our cabins for minucha. (123. No dinner was eaten.) (124. Do not attempt this ever, we are trained professionls).
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Everything I’ve learned about life, I learned at Herzl Camp (A Parenthetical List)
February 18, 2010 by Herzl Camp Admin, under What I Learned from Camp.
By Max and Zach Puchtel
Part 3 – Bikkurim
So there we were, Max and I, sound asleep in Tzrif 20. (47. Never be toooo asleep at camp) I am awakened by distant noise, I raise my head. BOOM!! (48. YOU THINK YOU’RE BAD) The front door of the cabin is knocked off its hinges by the front end of a freak 2-wheel creature screaming in a Judge Dredd voice, “I am the law!” (49. Dan Shapiro is the law) Actually, he had a megaphone and was chanting B-I-K-K-U-R-I-M BIKKURIM, B-I-K-K-U-R-I-M BIKKURIM!! (50. It can come at any hour of the day, just not this year due to scheduling conflicts).
We drag our half-dressed (51. No one wears clothes at camp, we schlep.) freezing bodies to the fire pit, where a blazing bonfire welcomes us. (52. Blazing bonfires are always appropriate) Max and I amazingly get placed on the same team, while all the Greene’s get placed on the same team, all the Freeman’s get placed on the same team, all the Usem’s get placed on the same team, and Mike Neiman is somehow still in charge. (53. Dare I say, Neiman RULES!!)
The next morning brings fresh eyes, throats and RUACH decked out in unicolor garb. As veterans to the Bikkurim circuit, Max and I know the importance of a fast start. (54. I am much faster than Max in any race, ranging any distance from 1 yard to 1 mile.) Immediately upon formation of the great BLUE TEAM, (55. The curse is not real, but rather more like the sword and the stone legend (Speaking of legends, Chuck Lyons, what a hero) wherein only the chosen one may remove the sword). we separate the weak from the pack. They will be assigned to cheer-generating and picture-drawing. The rest have been chosen as Blue Warriors. They are keepers of the great blue chair, and the song “I’m blue da boo dee da boo dah, dah boo dee daa boo dah.” (56. The one-word-in-the-most-songs game is the greatest rainy day game ever).
As we complete our plans for Bikkurim domination, we think about what the judges will be looking for most closely during the day’s performance. (57. Judges have a strict code they observe, passed down through generations of former Bikkurim contests) We decide sports to be our focal point-with Max and I (58. Grammar lesson, Max and me) at the helm, how can we lose? Turns out we can’t: skying over helpless campers, we take no mercy as frisbee, then basketball, softball, tennis, roofball, raftball, tetherball and then finally Gaga all become notches on our belt as we sweep the athletic contests. (59. This actually happened, no real lesson here other than PUCHTEL RULES!!)
Silent lunch puts a damper on things when we’re told that a member of our squad continues to make noise after repeatedly being told to do otherwise. As we’re led to the perpetrator, a crowd has gathered to witness what at first appears to be a feeding frenzy for one. Growls and snarls surround the creature, but he halts mid-swallow as we approach. Staring at us with huge trembling hungry eyes, (60. Aaron Gelperin has huge trembling hungry eyes) we ask Aaron if he’ll please calm down so we don’t lose points. He obliges. (61. Aaron Gelperin can be reasoned with, but only if promised a shot at the champ in the Kadimah arm wrestling contest (62. Big man, Aaron. I was 14!)
Outside to the fields where the relay has ended, and the teams regroup for what sets men apart from boys: TUG-O-WAR. (63. Although, in all truth, it’s usually the women that determine which team is going to win. (64. Unless, of course, Max and…you get it, we’re big) Max rips some duct tape off his chest, we all wonder why it was there in the first place, then we tug!
It’s all a blur as we come to the final ruach session in the Ulam. There’s a funny smell as you enter (64. Ben Jurisz and Joel Bard were still sleeping in the apartments) but that can’t faze us now. We are set on victory, and after a days worth of athletic triumphs, the blue curse seems really distant. How distant was it you ask? About as distant as Elin Woods the past 2 months I’d say. Really far off anyway…the ruach commences! Songs, cheers, flags, drum banging, and screaming with what little voices we have left!! Finally, the judgment is upon us. Whose effort will pay off in camp pride for the next 2 hours before bedtime??
We await the results, and aren’t surprised when, what?!! The Freemans won??!! Are you kidding me? No, seriously?? But they literally just took Edina cheers and put in the word red!! (65. Not to mention that they brought their own costumes to camp for the sole use in their Bikkurim dance routine) It’s ok Zach, this just wasn’t your year buddy, don’t worry about it, be a good loser, oh wait…don’t…no, stop…really? (66. I cry when I lose Bikkurim) As the judges come to console me because I won’t go back to my cabin, they explain to me that Bikkurim is about team spirit, unity and really good cheer generating and picture drawing.
Well, those are the lessons learned from Bikkurim, kids. We’re up to 66 and …
To be continued…
67. I learned something from that … you don’t have to be an ogre in order to succeed in Bikkurim, you just have to be a Freeman)
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Staff Week and ‘Bond Fire’
August 1, 2009 by Herzl Camp Admin, under Letters from Alumni.
By Rachel Javitch
My favorite part of staff week is bond fire. Yes, that’s bond fire, with a nd. This is where we got to hear everyone’s personal story about who your camp hero was, why you came back to camp year after year, and who it was that made camp that magical place for you. We did this, so we could remind ourselves of what we needed to do for our campers when they arrived at camp in the coming days. Because one day, those campers would grow up – and maybe some already have! – to be someone else’s counselor one day. They would take what you did in one shape or another, and do it for their campers. This is how the Herzl cycle continues.
On the night of bond fire, we would gather in the mo, get comfortable, and listen to a few hours of pure Herzl memories. We got to hear about what our counselors did for us – the crazy cheers they sang in the chadar, the cabin nicknames they created, the stories they told, the energy they emitted, and the costumes they wore. A candle was lit in honor of each person, and we learned from our peers how each of us was influenced at Herzl.
There was always so much one could say at bond fire. Who did I think of when I thought of the counselors that really stood out? Who was I going to try to emulate as a counselor that summer?
Was it Andrew Zidel, who convinced our entire Kadimah with his enthusiasm and passion, that 1998 was absolutely, positively, the ‘Best Summer EVER!’? Was it Sam Rosen, who told our Ozo group (and the rest of camp) that the little animals running around camp were called ‘wildamooks’ just to make a new inside joke? Or what about Jenny, Katie and Zach Freeman, who planned, plotted and created their very own Herzl Camp ‘Secret Society’ in 2001, that everyone wanted to be a part of, that involved assigning groups of campers and staff to do something nice for someone or some other group. Or what about my sister, who convinced me to come to camp in the first place, who checked on me every day, who I sat by during every single Shabbat as a camper. Or what about Robyn Badiner and Andrea Golden, my B’yachad counselors, who sat and talked with us, sang the Sh’ema to us, and gave us a hug each night before going to their meeting. Whether you recognize the names of my counselors or not, you can probably fill-in-the-blank with counselors of your own who did the same things mine did.
Stories like these (but better!) filled the room during bond fire. We heard all over again about the hilarious kitchen raids, the counselor who saved a camper from his homesickness, the unbelievable stint someone pulled on the overnight, and that one person who did a great job of just ‘being there.’ Story after story, we were reminded of what we needed to do for our campers. And we couldn’t forget that our campers took what we did for them, and did the same thing for their campers. So it goes, the Herzl cycle continues… Shavua Tov!