I went to Bethlehem yesterday to visit Emily, who is interning there for a few months. It was great to see her and it was great to be in a different part of the country (it reminded me a bit of Jordan). The whole experience in getting there and leaving was quite unsettling. I knew about everything that was going to happen, but experiencing it first-hand is different. It put into stark relief the reality that Palestinians face and the privilege that I possess.
Even the bus ride to the checkpoint is telling. It isn't an Egged bus (the national bus company) that transports Palestinians, they have their own company, and the buses are in much worse condition. They are actually much closer to the buses I remember from Jordan - more like big vans with manual transmissions that were probably built in the 1970s or 80s. It was kind of fun to ride them, but it makes it so painfully obvious that Palestinians are on a different level in Israeli society.
I got to the checkpoint at around 4pm, which is about the time everyone is coming home, so there were at least 100 people in line. As I was getting off the bus, the driver told me not to wait in line, but to go straight through in front of everyone. I was a little taken aback at first, but who I am kidding, I know that foreigners have a much easier time at the checkpoints. This was just confirmed as I pushed my way up. People just moved out of the way for me, I mean it's Israel, I had to push, but nobody tried to stop me from cutting in line. Then I got to the window where a couple of Palestinians were in front of me. When the guard realized I was American, he rushed me to a different window, looked at my passport for about 2 seconds and let me pass. It was very unsettling. I think I felt uncomfortable because a) I completely took advantage of my privilege, b) I felt humiliated for all of the people in line and have tried to imagine what life must be like to walk through that checkpoint daily and face the same dehumanizing reality, c) the checkpoint itself is a very institutionalized, sterile-looking building that is very unwelcoming, and d) walking out through it you are greeted with a huge 8 meter high separation barrier. Welcome to Bethlehem.
It is clear driving through Bethlehem that the economic situation is so different than that of Israel. Emily and I agreed that there is a certain charm to the 25 year-old cars, the construction of the buildings, the leftover Christmas decorations. But it is unsettling to know that less than 5 miles away, literally on the other side of the wall, is a more prosperous and developed, economically sound country. And while the occupation isn't the only reason for the difference, it is certainly a significant factor.
Going back through the checkpoint was also uncomfortable, but mostly because it felt deserted and I wasn't really sure what I was doing. In no-man's land, between exiting Bethlehem and entering the building to get to Israel, I saw someone being transferred from one ambulance to another. One of the Palestinians told us a story about how her grandfather was very ill and had to be taken to a hospital in Jerusalem from the West Bank. It was a huge ordeal and a traumatic experience for the family. Instead of getting straight to the hospital, her grandfather had to be taken out of one ambulance at the checkpoint, id checked, and then moved to the next ambulance to be taken, finally, to the hospital. Seeing this pair of ambulances made that story very real to me. The biggest difference was that I was the only onlooker because it was happening late at night, whereas during the day, the humiliation was seen by many.
So, I'm really glad that I went to Bethlehem to see Emily, who seems so happy to be there. But it brought up a lot of issues that were prevalent for me at the Machon that I've sort of pushed to the back of my mind recently. I've been immersed in a Jewish community for the past couple of weeks in which it is fairly simple to avoid dealing with such issues. It was a good wake up call for me. I will need to make an effort to continue struggling with these issues when I return to the States. I realize that being 7,000 miles away will change the nature of the conversation and how I engage in it, but it is imperative to do so.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
What Will I Miss?
As the inevitable departure date approaches, I have been thinking a lot more (and have had many conversations) about both what I am excited for when I get back to the States and what I will miss from Israel. Being here has definitely made me appreciate things about America and my community. Preparing to leave Israel has also made me more aware of the things about Israel that I love. I can only imagine what it will be like when I'm actually gone...
I've decided that I want to make a running list of what I am counting the days to return to and what I will be sad to say goodbye to (with commentary, of course).
Yay America:
- English!!!! Don't get me wrong, I love Hebrew, but it will be nice to understand someone when they ask you a question.
- Good coffee - I never want to see Nescafe again!
- Customer service - whoever said "the customer is always right" has never been to Israel
- Less bureaucracy Ok, maybe the Social Security Administration gets close to the incompetence and unnecessary red tape as pretty much anywhere in Israel, but it's so prevalent here...what did one of my friend's say? Israel is a first-world country with a third-world government or something like that.
- A number of food items including good chocolate, bagels, hard cheese, luna bars
- Lines - yes, I love order (maybe it's the German in me)
- So sad to miss both the elections and the inauguration, but thank goodness I'm coming back to Obama as president
Yay Israel:
- Friends, of course
- Some really great davening (praying)
- Shabbat - they know how to do it right here
- Remember the third-world country stuff? Well, it has some advantages. Even though the bureaucracy is infuriating, if you yell and push enough, you probably get what you want
- Fresh, cheap produce...how I love you. Produce stands on every corner, outdoor markets with amazing fruits, veggies, and bread...mmm, I'm going through withdrawal just thinking about it
- Egged - Well, I don't love egged per se, but interstate public transportation is quite impressive
A quick example of the ridiculousness of how things are run in this country: we asked the person at the ticket counter when buses to Tzfat were, and he told us we would have to ask the employee at the customer service window (who was sitting directly behind him). If he's selling the tickets, why wouldn't he know when the buses leave?
- I've gotten really good at Jewish geography
- Despite all of the complaints about kibbutz food, I loved the fact that there was a full salad bar at every meal with at least tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, peppers, and cabbage - salad with breakfast, who would've thought?
- Tahina - I can't believe I'm saying it. I used to hate tahina, but it's so good and it's a staple in this country.
- Easy access to relatively inexpensive and delicious dried fruit and nuts including exotic things such as dried pomello, dried kumquat, chinese pecans, various date varieties, etc.
There are so many more things that I will miss about each place...perhaps I'll update the list in the near future. In the meantime I'll cherish my last week here and look forward to finally drinking a decent latte...
I've decided that I want to make a running list of what I am counting the days to return to and what I will be sad to say goodbye to (with commentary, of course).
Yay America:
- English!!!! Don't get me wrong, I love Hebrew, but it will be nice to understand someone when they ask you a question.
- Good coffee - I never want to see Nescafe again!
- Customer service - whoever said "the customer is always right" has never been to Israel
- Less bureaucracy Ok, maybe the Social Security Administration gets close to the incompetence and unnecessary red tape as pretty much anywhere in Israel, but it's so prevalent here...what did one of my friend's say? Israel is a first-world country with a third-world government or something like that.
- A number of food items including good chocolate, bagels, hard cheese, luna bars
- Lines - yes, I love order (maybe it's the German in me)
- So sad to miss both the elections and the inauguration, but thank goodness I'm coming back to Obama as president
Yay Israel:
- Friends, of course
- Some really great davening (praying)
- Shabbat - they know how to do it right here
- Remember the third-world country stuff? Well, it has some advantages. Even though the bureaucracy is infuriating, if you yell and push enough, you probably get what you want
- Fresh, cheap produce...how I love you. Produce stands on every corner, outdoor markets with amazing fruits, veggies, and bread...mmm, I'm going through withdrawal just thinking about it
- Egged - Well, I don't love egged per se, but interstate public transportation is quite impressive
A quick example of the ridiculousness of how things are run in this country: we asked the person at the ticket counter when buses to Tzfat were, and he told us we would have to ask the employee at the customer service window (who was sitting directly behind him). If he's selling the tickets, why wouldn't he know when the buses leave?
- I've gotten really good at Jewish geography
- Despite all of the complaints about kibbutz food, I loved the fact that there was a full salad bar at every meal with at least tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, peppers, and cabbage - salad with breakfast, who would've thought?
- Tahina - I can't believe I'm saying it. I used to hate tahina, but it's so good and it's a staple in this country.
- Easy access to relatively inexpensive and delicious dried fruit and nuts including exotic things such as dried pomello, dried kumquat, chinese pecans, various date varieties, etc.
There are so many more things that I will miss about each place...perhaps I'll update the list in the near future. In the meantime I'll cherish my last week here and look forward to finally drinking a decent latte...
Saturday, February 14, 2009
More Questions
I've been thinking a lot about my religious practice since coming to Israel, not surprisingly, but it has been more on the front of my mind now that I am returning to the States in about 2 weeks. After spending Shabbat in Ra'anana (a small city north of Tel Aviv) with a friend, I have realized how ambivalent I am about the question. I know that Judaism plays a central role in my life and that religious observance is important to me, I am just not quite sure how I see that playing out. I don't think I really identify as a Reform Jew anymore, but I also do not feel bound by halakhah. I do know that I love traditional kabbalat shabbat services, and I'm not sure where I will find that in Seattle. I also know that I will not be able to continue being shomer shabbat in the US. I'm not even sure I would want to, if I felt that I could.
In a previous post I wrote about some of the wonderful non-egalitarian services that I have attended here, but I am realizing that it is not so easy to find in Israel, either. I went to two different shuls in Ra'anana and I had problems with each. Again, it wasn't the mehitzah that I found troubling, it was the atmosphere and, I think, the role that women play in the Orthodox community. On Friday night, it was a side-by-side mehitzah, and on Saturday (at a South African synagogue) women sat in the balcony. I was really frustrated with the fact that the women hardly participated in either. I could only really hear myself and Deborah singing (aside from the men, of course). And I could not see, and could barely hear, the guest rabbi's dvar because he was speaking to the men's side of the room. I found the energy at the South African shul to be much better, but I had trouble getting past the fact that I was above watching the men, making me feel as though I was not really involved in the service, but a mere observer.
I think I was also turned off by the South African shul because of the shiur given by the rabbi after the service. The portion was Jethro, and he juxtaposed Jethro to the Amalek kingdom from the previous chapter. He basically said that these are the two ways in which gentiles can act towards the Jews, the former being those who look out for the best interests of "Am Yisrael" (the people of Israel) and the latter being those who try to destroy the Jewish people. He then compared the Nazis to Amaleks and talked about the disproportionate reaction by the international community to Israel's actions in Gaza. I got really frustrated with his comparison to the Holocaust, not because I think it is unfounded. I'm not entirely sure why it frustrated me so much, perhaps it has something to do with how the Holocaust is so much a part of the Israeli consciousness and it acts as such an emotional trigger for most all Ashkenazik Israelis. I felt as though the rabbi could have just as easily made his point without the reference.
I was also frustrated with his crticism of the international community. He seemed to imply that the criticism was based on anti-semitism and completely unfounded, that Israel was unfairly being portrayed as the "bad guy" but really had no choice in its actions. This position is common throughout Israel, so I'm not surprised that he said it, but I take issue with it. At the very least, I take issue with the fact that any criticism of Israel is automatically associated with anti semitism or a wish for the demise of the Jews. It leaves no room for discussion.
Going back to the question of religious practice, it seems clear that I know what I like (and don't like) in terms of praying, but I am still trying to figure out my level of observance in everyday life. I have been thinking about this a lot, but I think after this Shabbat I am able to articulate it much better. I love the idea (or the essence or the purpose) of Shabbat - a day of rest - but I tend to find it to be much more stressful when I am in a traditionally observant setting. Why? I thought it might be because I didn't know everything that I could or could not do. But I have been in the situation enough times now to be comfortable with what is kosher.
I have decided that what I find most problematic (and now that I say this, it sounds like a "well, duh" sort of statement) that the effort of separating Shabbat from the rest of the week has gone too far. If I am going to follow the letter of the law, it will be impossible for me to capture the spirit of it. If I have to make sure to have pre-ripped toilet paper or not to rip or cut my finger nails, it has gone too far. I slept in the living room over Shabbat and the lights were on an automatic timer, but they couldn't remember when the timer was set for. The lights went out just before midnight, but I basically had to wait and hope that they would actually go out. And then, what if I had wanted to keep reading? I guess I could have gone to the bathroom because that light stays on throughout the night.
I love that I make a conscious decision not to worry about my scholarship essays and that I go for a day without checking my email, but all of the small injunctions meant to sanctify the day often end up creating a level of tension that I find off putting. It is helpful that I've been able to define what I like more concretely and that I will have the flexibility to create a Shabbat space that I feel comfortable with in the States. With this approach I could easily be accused of just picking and choosing, that I am just doing what I like or what is convenient. I guess my argument would be that I am doing what is spiritually fulfilling, what deepens my connection to my faith. It is not necessarily what is easiest, it is what is most meaningful.
In a previous post I wrote about some of the wonderful non-egalitarian services that I have attended here, but I am realizing that it is not so easy to find in Israel, either. I went to two different shuls in Ra'anana and I had problems with each. Again, it wasn't the mehitzah that I found troubling, it was the atmosphere and, I think, the role that women play in the Orthodox community. On Friday night, it was a side-by-side mehitzah, and on Saturday (at a South African synagogue) women sat in the balcony. I was really frustrated with the fact that the women hardly participated in either. I could only really hear myself and Deborah singing (aside from the men, of course). And I could not see, and could barely hear, the guest rabbi's dvar because he was speaking to the men's side of the room. I found the energy at the South African shul to be much better, but I had trouble getting past the fact that I was above watching the men, making me feel as though I was not really involved in the service, but a mere observer.
I think I was also turned off by the South African shul because of the shiur given by the rabbi after the service. The portion was Jethro, and he juxtaposed Jethro to the Amalek kingdom from the previous chapter. He basically said that these are the two ways in which gentiles can act towards the Jews, the former being those who look out for the best interests of "Am Yisrael" (the people of Israel) and the latter being those who try to destroy the Jewish people. He then compared the Nazis to Amaleks and talked about the disproportionate reaction by the international community to Israel's actions in Gaza. I got really frustrated with his comparison to the Holocaust, not because I think it is unfounded. I'm not entirely sure why it frustrated me so much, perhaps it has something to do with how the Holocaust is so much a part of the Israeli consciousness and it acts as such an emotional trigger for most all Ashkenazik Israelis. I felt as though the rabbi could have just as easily made his point without the reference.
I was also frustrated with his crticism of the international community. He seemed to imply that the criticism was based on anti-semitism and completely unfounded, that Israel was unfairly being portrayed as the "bad guy" but really had no choice in its actions. This position is common throughout Israel, so I'm not surprised that he said it, but I take issue with it. At the very least, I take issue with the fact that any criticism of Israel is automatically associated with anti semitism or a wish for the demise of the Jews. It leaves no room for discussion.
Going back to the question of religious practice, it seems clear that I know what I like (and don't like) in terms of praying, but I am still trying to figure out my level of observance in everyday life. I have been thinking about this a lot, but I think after this Shabbat I am able to articulate it much better. I love the idea (or the essence or the purpose) of Shabbat - a day of rest - but I tend to find it to be much more stressful when I am in a traditionally observant setting. Why? I thought it might be because I didn't know everything that I could or could not do. But I have been in the situation enough times now to be comfortable with what is kosher.
I have decided that what I find most problematic (and now that I say this, it sounds like a "well, duh" sort of statement) that the effort of separating Shabbat from the rest of the week has gone too far. If I am going to follow the letter of the law, it will be impossible for me to capture the spirit of it. If I have to make sure to have pre-ripped toilet paper or not to rip or cut my finger nails, it has gone too far. I slept in the living room over Shabbat and the lights were on an automatic timer, but they couldn't remember when the timer was set for. The lights went out just before midnight, but I basically had to wait and hope that they would actually go out. And then, what if I had wanted to keep reading? I guess I could have gone to the bathroom because that light stays on throughout the night.
I love that I make a conscious decision not to worry about my scholarship essays and that I go for a day without checking my email, but all of the small injunctions meant to sanctify the day often end up creating a level of tension that I find off putting. It is helpful that I've been able to define what I like more concretely and that I will have the flexibility to create a Shabbat space that I feel comfortable with in the States. With this approach I could easily be accused of just picking and choosing, that I am just doing what I like or what is convenient. I guess my argument would be that I am doing what is spiritually fulfilling, what deepens my connection to my faith. It is not necessarily what is easiest, it is what is most meaningful.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
What a Week
I just returned from a week long trip in Tel Aviv and Tzfat with Anna and Aaron. We had some crazy adventures, especially in Tzfat. I feel as though I should start from the beginning, but I think the more interesting - or at least memorable - parts of the trip happened in Tzfat. I'll give a few highlights of Tel Aviv, though.
We stayed near the beach, about a 5 minute walk from the shuk (outdoor market) and a 30 minute walk to Old Yaffo. We went to Yaffo and had the pleasure of bargaining. Well, Anna is really good at bargaining. I'm not the best and needed her coaching, but I did manage to get a really beautiful piece of hand-embroidered tapestry. We had a few very funny experiences. Anna was stopped by one of the shop owners in the market and was roped into buying a piece of costume jewellery. She said that he was first asking for 80 NIS, he said he would put a lighter to it to prove that it was real, and he eventually pulled her into his shop and said, "for you, 30 shekel, but don't tell anyone." She felt badly and ended up buying it. She even said at the end of the interaction he shook her hand as if saying he respected her bargaining abilities.
We decided that we would cook all of our meals in Tel Aviv to save money, but we splurged in Yaffo and had lunch at Dr. Shakshuka. It was amazing! The lunch included bread, hummus, different salads, couscous, soup, a bean dish, lamb (kabob, etc). We ate so much it felt as though we wouldn't have to eat again for a week.
Thursday night we wanted to go out dancing, and instead of staying out all night, we ended up coming back to the hostel and talking about choseness and Judaism until 5 am. We are so cool.
Then we went to Tzfat Friday morning. It was a trip. We stayed at a Chabad-run hostel over Shabbat and then moved elsewhere on Saturday night to maintain our sanity. We got into Tzfat less than an hour before Shabbat started, so it was kind of hectic. And we missed the class. The hostel puts on daily classes about kabbalism and Judaism, which technically aren't required, but just about every time I saw someone affiliated with the hostel, they asked if I was going a class. Enough already!
They set us up with home hospitality for Shabbat dinner. With a very frum, Lubavitcher family. The husband teaches at a seminary and four girls (just out of high school) also came to the dinner. It was so awkward! Not only did they make very little conversation, but us women-folk were not allowed to participate in making any blessings, singing any songs, or really being acknowledged as human beings. I mean, the two men at the table waited for Aaron to touch the challah before they said motzi, but didn't hand any of the women benchers (kiddush and song books) or wait for Anna to say the blessing after the meal. And when Aaron tried to help clear the table, he was informed that it wasn't his place to do so. But Anna, the seminary girls, and myself dutifully helped in the kitchen. As you can imagine with two feminists, this was not the most pleasant experience and caused a great deal of discussion afterwards. It also wasn't the last of such incidents. We tried to go to services in the morning at a famous Sephardic shul, but the women's section was so small and crowded that Anna and I couldn't get in. We ended up going for a walk to the old citadel, which gives an amazing view of the city and the hills surrounding it.
The class before lunch and lunch itself didn't fair much better. But we did learn from one of the Lubavitcher Rebbes that it is, in fact, ok and encouraged for women to sing just so long as he can hear his own voice first. The men all started dancing at one point while all the women sat and watched. I was so tempted to join in (hehe).
After Shabbat we went to a different hostel, which was much better, and had a really nice Tu Bishvat Seder. It reminded me of a combination of Avodah and the Machon. We sat on the floor and sang songs (including Adamah v'Shamayim and Od Yavoh Shalom Aleinu) and talked about the origin of the Tu Bishvat seder (which started in Tzfat). We then went through the seven fruits of Israel and talked about their significance. The people were interesting, the food was good, and the atmosphere was so relaxed.
We explored the city a bit on Sunday, which mainly consisted of following the "Tzfat cheese" signs, or "Safed Cheese," "Tzfat Cheeze," "Saffed cheeze" or some other variation. It isn't a big city, but it took us a good amount of time to get through the maze and actually find this crazy shop. It was worth it, though. Their cheese and olives are amazing!
We finally managed to go on our hike on Monday. Tzfat is in an amazingly beautiful part of the country. I have really missed being among hills, trees, green. We hiked for a good 5 hours even though it took us about 2 hours to find the trail we were looking for. We hiked the Nahal Amud trail and along the way we found a number of rebbes' graves (which are painted a bright blue) and some ruins.
The final adventure occurred on our way home. A man who works at the hostel kindly offered us a ride to Jerusalem. As we were leaving it started to hail, which later turned into pouring-down rain. It's good in the sense that Israel is in desperate need of rain, but I do not trust Israeli drivers. And then he had car problems the whole way back, and he held his phone in one hand and his coffee mug in the other. And it took us about an hour from the time he said he was ready to leave to actually start driving out of Tzfat. But I'm finally getting used to Middle Eastern Standard Time, so I guess I would have been surprised by antything else.
Overall it was a great trip. A true bonding experience. We also came out of it with a lot of inside jokes. And you really can't beat that.
We stayed near the beach, about a 5 minute walk from the shuk (outdoor market) and a 30 minute walk to Old Yaffo. We went to Yaffo and had the pleasure of bargaining. Well, Anna is really good at bargaining. I'm not the best and needed her coaching, but I did manage to get a really beautiful piece of hand-embroidered tapestry. We had a few very funny experiences. Anna was stopped by one of the shop owners in the market and was roped into buying a piece of costume jewellery. She said that he was first asking for 80 NIS, he said he would put a lighter to it to prove that it was real, and he eventually pulled her into his shop and said, "for you, 30 shekel, but don't tell anyone." She felt badly and ended up buying it. She even said at the end of the interaction he shook her hand as if saying he respected her bargaining abilities.
We decided that we would cook all of our meals in Tel Aviv to save money, but we splurged in Yaffo and had lunch at Dr. Shakshuka. It was amazing! The lunch included bread, hummus, different salads, couscous, soup, a bean dish, lamb (kabob, etc). We ate so much it felt as though we wouldn't have to eat again for a week.
Thursday night we wanted to go out dancing, and instead of staying out all night, we ended up coming back to the hostel and talking about choseness and Judaism until 5 am. We are so cool.
Then we went to Tzfat Friday morning. It was a trip. We stayed at a Chabad-run hostel over Shabbat and then moved elsewhere on Saturday night to maintain our sanity. We got into Tzfat less than an hour before Shabbat started, so it was kind of hectic. And we missed the class. The hostel puts on daily classes about kabbalism and Judaism, which technically aren't required, but just about every time I saw someone affiliated with the hostel, they asked if I was going a class. Enough already!
They set us up with home hospitality for Shabbat dinner. With a very frum, Lubavitcher family. The husband teaches at a seminary and four girls (just out of high school) also came to the dinner. It was so awkward! Not only did they make very little conversation, but us women-folk were not allowed to participate in making any blessings, singing any songs, or really being acknowledged as human beings. I mean, the two men at the table waited for Aaron to touch the challah before they said motzi, but didn't hand any of the women benchers (kiddush and song books) or wait for Anna to say the blessing after the meal. And when Aaron tried to help clear the table, he was informed that it wasn't his place to do so. But Anna, the seminary girls, and myself dutifully helped in the kitchen. As you can imagine with two feminists, this was not the most pleasant experience and caused a great deal of discussion afterwards. It also wasn't the last of such incidents. We tried to go to services in the morning at a famous Sephardic shul, but the women's section was so small and crowded that Anna and I couldn't get in. We ended up going for a walk to the old citadel, which gives an amazing view of the city and the hills surrounding it.
The class before lunch and lunch itself didn't fair much better. But we did learn from one of the Lubavitcher Rebbes that it is, in fact, ok and encouraged for women to sing just so long as he can hear his own voice first. The men all started dancing at one point while all the women sat and watched. I was so tempted to join in (hehe).
After Shabbat we went to a different hostel, which was much better, and had a really nice Tu Bishvat Seder. It reminded me of a combination of Avodah and the Machon. We sat on the floor and sang songs (including Adamah v'Shamayim and Od Yavoh Shalom Aleinu) and talked about the origin of the Tu Bishvat seder (which started in Tzfat). We then went through the seven fruits of Israel and talked about their significance. The people were interesting, the food was good, and the atmosphere was so relaxed.
We explored the city a bit on Sunday, which mainly consisted of following the "Tzfat cheese" signs, or "Safed Cheese," "Tzfat Cheeze," "Saffed cheeze" or some other variation. It isn't a big city, but it took us a good amount of time to get through the maze and actually find this crazy shop. It was worth it, though. Their cheese and olives are amazing!
We finally managed to go on our hike on Monday. Tzfat is in an amazingly beautiful part of the country. I have really missed being among hills, trees, green. We hiked for a good 5 hours even though it took us about 2 hours to find the trail we were looking for. We hiked the Nahal Amud trail and along the way we found a number of rebbes' graves (which are painted a bright blue) and some ruins.
The final adventure occurred on our way home. A man who works at the hostel kindly offered us a ride to Jerusalem. As we were leaving it started to hail, which later turned into pouring-down rain. It's good in the sense that Israel is in desperate need of rain, but I do not trust Israeli drivers. And then he had car problems the whole way back, and he held his phone in one hand and his coffee mug in the other. And it took us about an hour from the time he said he was ready to leave to actually start driving out of Tzfat. But I'm finally getting used to Middle Eastern Standard Time, so I guess I would have been surprised by antything else.
Overall it was a great trip. A true bonding experience. We also came out of it with a lot of inside jokes. And you really can't beat that.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Shabbat in Jerusalem
I've been meaning to write for the past few days. I left the Kibbutz of Friday and have been in Jerusalem since. It hasn't fully sunk in that the program is actually over. We had a number of goodbye-like activities including a really fun final party. We also had to clean out our rooms, so it obviously felt as though we were leaving. And lots of people left early, so campus felt pretty empty. Even though it's been a few days, I haven't really even started to process my experiences at the Machon. Maybe once I return to the States it will start happening (which will be the beginning of March). In the meantime, I will be traveling throughout Israel and taking advantage of this last month here. I've decided that I will just enjoy February and worry about thinking and processing later.
It seems to be working so far. I had an amazing Shabbat in Jerusalem. I'm staying in Anna's apartment on and off until I leave. We went to Yakar for Kabbalat Shabbat services, and it was one of the most moving spiritual/religious experiences that I have ever had. It is an Orthodox shul with a non-egal service, but I still found it to be really incredible. I find at a lot of Conservative and Orthodox shuls that people are in a rush to get through the prayers as quickly as possible, something that takes away from the service for me. But at Yakar they seem to savor each prayer, and they sing a lot. Not only do they sing all of the psalms, etc, but they have really beautiful niggunim that they intersperse in the service. There was also so much energy around me. I was so caught up in the music and the prayers that I felt transported to a different place. I don't really know how to describe it, but it was a very powerful experience. And afterwards, I had dinner with Anna and a few friends. It was an intimate and beautiful Friday night.
Before coming to Israel I had serious issues with non-egal services. Every time I went in the States, I had trouble getting past the fact that men and women couldn't sit next to each other and became resentful, which just ruined the whole experience. But since coming to Israel, I have realized that praying just with women can be really beautiful. Don't get me wrong, there are some really bad non-egal services, but it isn't because men and women can't sit together, it is the service in general - the atmosphere, the way the mechitza is setup, the participation of women in the community, etc. I have also been exposed to the orthodox world much more and my perception of it has changed significantly. I have a much greater appreciation for traditional practice, following halakha, etc. than I used to. I'm not planning on becoming orthodox (don't worry mom) but I can see why some choose to do so.
I am living with people who are shomer Shabbat and who keep a kosher home. There is definitely a level of intention and awareness that I feel when I am here. I don't know if it is because I did not grow up with such rules, so I have to actively think about it, or if it is something one always thinks about more. I mean, I have to think about which plate I am going to use for a meal - meat, dairy, or parve - which sponge to use when I wash it, and where to put the dishes once I'm done with them. On Shabbat, don't turn on or off lights. Wasn't I yelled at for leaving lights on as a kid? It's a very different lifestyle in many ways, but I am very grateful that I have the opportunity to experience for a while.
I'm leaving for Tel Aviv tomorrow for a few days...
It seems to be working so far. I had an amazing Shabbat in Jerusalem. I'm staying in Anna's apartment on and off until I leave. We went to Yakar for Kabbalat Shabbat services, and it was one of the most moving spiritual/religious experiences that I have ever had. It is an Orthodox shul with a non-egal service, but I still found it to be really incredible. I find at a lot of Conservative and Orthodox shuls that people are in a rush to get through the prayers as quickly as possible, something that takes away from the service for me. But at Yakar they seem to savor each prayer, and they sing a lot. Not only do they sing all of the psalms, etc, but they have really beautiful niggunim that they intersperse in the service. There was also so much energy around me. I was so caught up in the music and the prayers that I felt transported to a different place. I don't really know how to describe it, but it was a very powerful experience. And afterwards, I had dinner with Anna and a few friends. It was an intimate and beautiful Friday night.
Before coming to Israel I had serious issues with non-egal services. Every time I went in the States, I had trouble getting past the fact that men and women couldn't sit next to each other and became resentful, which just ruined the whole experience. But since coming to Israel, I have realized that praying just with women can be really beautiful. Don't get me wrong, there are some really bad non-egal services, but it isn't because men and women can't sit together, it is the service in general - the atmosphere, the way the mechitza is setup, the participation of women in the community, etc. I have also been exposed to the orthodox world much more and my perception of it has changed significantly. I have a much greater appreciation for traditional practice, following halakha, etc. than I used to. I'm not planning on becoming orthodox (don't worry mom) but I can see why some choose to do so.
I am living with people who are shomer Shabbat and who keep a kosher home. There is definitely a level of intention and awareness that I feel when I am here. I don't know if it is because I did not grow up with such rules, so I have to actively think about it, or if it is something one always thinks about more. I mean, I have to think about which plate I am going to use for a meal - meat, dairy, or parve - which sponge to use when I wash it, and where to put the dishes once I'm done with them. On Shabbat, don't turn on or off lights. Wasn't I yelled at for leaving lights on as a kid? It's a very different lifestyle in many ways, but I am very grateful that I have the opportunity to experience for a while.
I'm leaving for Tel Aviv tomorrow for a few days...
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