Pyromaniacs in Jerusalem

(This picture, which I think is great, is from the site SaveTheAssistants.com. If you're an assistant, you'll love it).


Saturday night was the beginning of Passover (פסח), the holiday celebrating the Jewish departure from Egypt under the direction of Moses. In terms of the solidification of the Jewish people, this event and the following 40 years spent in the desert was the real beginning of the Nation of Israel. We were the Jewish people before we left Egypt and that period of slavery, but with our exit we showed G-d our true faith, we accepted the Torah at Mt. Sinai, and eventually we entered the Land of Israel in order to claim our homeland. The Passover holiday is a celebration of the birth of our nation and religion.

So how do we celebrate it in Israel? We set fire to parks in order to burn our chametz, or any leavened bread product. The custom is to clean your apartment like it is infected with mold, every inch of it in order to rid it of any chametz, and then finally you perform what is called bedikat chametz - literally checking of chametz. After you get a symbolic amount of this forbidden food together, a ritual you perform at night, the next morning you have to burn it completely. Everyone does this at the same time.



Hence the fires. This picture isn't even half representative of how large this flame got. As we were burning the goods, about five different guys came by with their chametz and asked, angrily, "Why did you make this fire right here? It's too big."

You know who started the fire? The city cleaning worker that left it unattended as he made his way around our street. Honestly, I think you'd get sued if you did that in America. Here, he was just being a good, although slightly irresponsible, Jewish citizen - providing a useful service for the masses. This guy here is performing bitul chametz, saying the prayer after burning the chametz.

Modern Ultra-Orthodox Jews

How often do we walk through our daily routine without opening our eyes, without raising our gaze from the pavement, unaware of the numerous unique eccentricities of our surroundings? I find myself dragging my feet, stumbling from point A to B, only partially aware that I am missing something, a certain neglected "something" that must make one day different from the next. In fact, one of the reasons that I moved to Israel is because here, in this strange land with these strange people, I readily notice that life can be stranger than fiction. People do bizarre things. Store signs are absurd. Politics are comical. Food is alien. The otherworldly nature of Israel forces me to open my eyes; forces me to concentrate on something other than my own ruminations.

So, after walking out of class and rushing back home to start working, I crossed the street with eyes wide open at the subject of this picture. Without going into a big long explanation of all the various religious groups here in Jerusalem, let me just offer this one horribly oversimplified commentary. Essentially, the more black dress-clothes that a Jew is wearing, the more traditional they are. The more "orthodox," as the English term goes. For example, if you see a guy wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but also a knit black yamika, he's really a "modern orthodox" Jew. He keeps Shabbat and kosher, but he may or may not really be so strict in Jewish law - or at least he would do things outside of the traditional laws of modesty, like go to bars.

If you see a guy wearing black dress pants and a blue dress-shirt, completed with a white yamika, he probably is a little more strict, probably prays the three regulated prayer sessions a day, absolutely keeps kosher and Shabbat, and more than likely he has spent some time in a yeshiva.

Now, finally, if you see a guy with a black suit and a white dress-shirt, black yamika, and even a black overcoat - well, his entire life is religion. He more than likely studies Torah and Talmud all day, every day. He more than likely requested exemption from the Israeli Army in order to live this religious life. He really doesn't go out to bars, he doesn't hang out downtown and people-watch, he probably doesn't go to movies, and he certainly doesn't have a television at home. Also, chances are that he doesn't work, but rather studies in yeshiva for a stipend. This lifestyle is referred to as being frum in Yiddish, or haredi in Hebrew, and ultra-orthodox in English. This group is what you see in Crown Heights and Flatbush, Brooklyn. These are the diamond dealer Jews in NYC. These are the people that live in Mea Shaarim in Jerusalem. They catch a lot of flak wherever they live, and they can be more than controversial with religiopolitical views, but I have enormous respect for this spiritual pillar of Jewry.

Like so many societies around the world, the revolution in technology and the globalization of culture has led to the youth of even the most traditional communities to adopt what many would consider "modern" ways of life. These adopted patterns and habits can be seen all over Jerusalem, the center of traditional Judaism for the entire world, and are of course the domain of the youngsters. Walk into any little falafel restaurant or mini-market that has a TV for watching sports games, and there you'll see a crowd of teens in black suits watching Euroleague soccer, drinking Coca-Cola, and smoking Marlboros. Or, go to the downtown square on a Thursday night, the big party night in Israel, and amidst the roaring secular revelers you will find a clustering of religious boys nursing a bottle of vodka, observing the mayhem unfold. The religious have cellphones, iPods, and digital cameras. They will attend sporting events. You'll see them in the mall. The orthodox community is being led from the ghetto, the shtetl-life, an enclave that has defined them for the past millennia.

That being said, some things are still just unheard of. Mopeds are very popular here, namely because they are cheap and gas efficient. Secular and religious guys both ride them, with no clear tendency for one or the other to have this vehicle instead of a car. Not a big deal. Secular girls can occasionally be spotted on a moped, as I chanced upon a few days ago, and although it merits staring, it's still not anything to write home about. But, what I have only seen once during all the combined time that I have lived in Israel is an ultra-orthodox, frum, haredi couple riding one of these things together. It's just too much! They're married, of course, but there's still too much touching going on in public for the traditional laws (which ban all touching between the genders outside of marriage -- all touching). The suggestion of sexuality is simply too strong, with the female's legs being essentially wrapped around her husband. It's just not seen.

So, when I was crossing the street after my Hebrew class and walked right by this ultra-traditional couple going along in a very untraditional manner, and I dare say anti-traditional manner, I couldn't help but open my eyes. I couldn't help but lift my head from the pavement, pull my mind out of the clouds, and focus all of my attention on a sight that I figured I probably wouldn't see again for quite some time. Realizing that I had taken my dad's advice and permanently placed my camera in my backpack, I ripped the camera from it's case, fearing that the stoplight would turn green any second, and took as many shots as I could. As their light remained red longer than expected, I looked to the drivers of the cars around them and noticed that every single head was pointed in their direction.

Honestly, a picture is worth more than a thousand words. Notice one thing among a hundred others that I could mention: His shoes. He's not wearing black dress shoes, though he has on every other element of the ultra-orthodox garb. Rather, he is wearing the ultra-hip Puma-style sneakers, a fashion that threatened to put my beloved New Balances out of business recently.

This is really what I see as a new wave in the ultra-religious youth and young adult segment, and it is a trend that I feel a true affinity towards. They do not want to leave behind the traditional garb, so they will continue to wear black suits, white shirts, long black overcoats, and black Fedora hats. The women will continue to dress in black and cover nearly all skin and hair. The change, however, is that there is a real effort to dress poshly, to keep up with the fashions of the day.

The guys will get nice suits, white dress shirts that have special patterns in the fabric (like tiny squares or lines) or fancy buttons, expensive shoes, and they'll keep all of it very clean. The women will wear name brand clothes or dresses with a long-sleeve shirt underneath to make sure the laws of modesty are covered, as is their skin. Instead of wearing a wig (women have to cover their hair), they'll get a glittery scarf that really is quite pleasant to the eye. This combination of dress-clothes and modern fashion is, in my opinion, one of the classiest, hip, and sophisticated styles that I have ever seen. I like it.

The point here is that even in Jerusalem, the holy city, and even within the most religious and time-tested, uncompromisingly ancestral groups, the power of Western culture is just about unstoppable. There is so much talk about the plight of the American economy right now. Turn on European television and I guarantee you if you listen for half an hour you'll hear about "the falling dollar." No matter, though, the pervasiveness of the American way of life is stronger than ever, and it has reached its hand deep into a congregation that had no intention of accepting any outside influence.

The Young Guard

All across Israel little children are given the big responsibility of being crossing guards for heavy pedestrian walkways. They take it seriously, too! I've seen a little girl, no older than eight, no taller than my hip, yell at a grown man in his SUV. And heaven forbid if you are a pedestrian and you cross without their permission...

Here's the crowd that I have to walk through everyday after my class. We're right next to a fairly large primary school that seems to have a lot of American kids. It's a rich neighborhood, so every morning I hear "have a good day" more than anything in Hebrew. Purim, however, is a dress up day shared by all kids, from those in this picture to the joker in the mouse suit.

While walking to class, my friend and I were brushed aside by the cutest little girl in the world. She was dressed up as a ladybug. I was almost thrown into the bushes off the sidewalk as she tore by, excited to show her classmates her outfit. Oh how I miss the days of dressing up as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

MOUSE MAN!

Tonight was the start of Purim, which in Jerusalem lasts through Sunday. Purim is the holiday remembering a very specific story of Jewish past. In short, we were exiled from the Land of Israel (6th century BCE), and found ourselves under Persian rule. Persian King Ahasverus had a high-ranking officer named Haman. When Haman was entering the palace, the high priest of the Jews, Mordechai, would not bow down to him. Haman wanted to kill Mordechai and the Jews, and he got Ahasverus' permission to make a decree to exterminate all the Jews in the Persian Empire. So, Mordechai sends in his niece, Ester, Ahasverus' new queen, and she talks to old Ahas. He loves her, she reveals Haman's plan, Ahasverus has Haman hung on the very trees he planned to hang the Jews on... yay! As we say: They tried to kill us, they got theirs, now let's get drunk!

Purim is celebrated by giving gifts to the poor, gifts to our friends (mishloach manot), listening to the reading of the Scroll of Ester (telling this story -- which is found in the Tanach/Bible), and finally, getting very drunk during a ritual meal. If you want to know why, I can tell you.

Apparently, in Roman times a custom was developed to dress up in silly costumes for Purim. So, Purim is like the Jewish Halloween, minus paganism and plus a strong religious purpose, theme, and traditions. Everyone is dressed up in Israel tonight. Everyone is partying. Everyone is out and about and... most seem to have a mouse outfit on.

I was walking down a back alley, taking a shortcut to my bank's ATM, when out of nowhere a motorcycle screams by, going way too fast, and the driver was gunning his engine in the manner that cyclists do to get attention. Very manly. Or should I say, very mously?

Yeah, I never claimed to be a comedian! But seriously, this was the funniest thing I've seen in months. You don't even realize how much effort it took to get these pictures. I had to chase him around 3 different corners, me on foot, him on a powerful streetbike. Eventually I turned a corner and there he was, getting off his bike, and walking into a sushi restaurant. Five minutes later he comes out, I get the pictures. I felt like either a Mossad agent or a stalker.

Humorous Tel Aviv Art Part 3

Tel Aviv is a real city, as opposed to Jerusalem. They stay up late, stores stay open till the wee hours, and there are tons of clubs. I heard once that the beach area of Tel Aviv (it's on the Mediterranean) has more clubs per block than any other city in the world. Not sure if that's true or not, but there are a lot, I know that. I feel like Spain or Brazil probably has to take that award, though.

Anyway, as I was walking around at 4 AM in a residential area of TA last Thursday, I noticed this interesting sandwich shop. 4 AM and they were still making custom paninis and baguettes from a kiosk building (typically coffee stops), and I was quite tempted. I opted for a picture, instead.

Also, like the Star of David drawn on a bus window sill that I wrote about a few weeks ago, an unlikely Magen David caught my eye. Right there in the entrance of a not so religious clothing store, an "immodest" style of clothing, there was a Star of David on the floor. It was very pretty, made out of what looked like small tiles, and glittery. Just right there in the entrance to an Israeli - not "Jewish" - clothing outlet, a tiny boutique, there is our heritage. In the midst of an area that even goes so far as to call itself anti-religious, you cannot escape the Jewishness of this land and people. Again, reason #247 that I love this country.

Merry Christmas to all of you celebrators out there. Peace, Love, and Harmony to every human, Christian or Shinto.

Anyway, you all should check out this article about today's immigration of Iranian Jews to Israel.

The history of Jews in Iran is really quite old, but the majority of this minority left Iran by the 1980s. The Shah's regime fell and was replaced with the anti-progressive, regressive, Iranian theocracy that has seen the rise of a modern day Hitler. So, us Jews in Israel are thanking our stars that the 200 new Israelis this year are from the most tumultuous place in the world; at least for Jews.

It's funny for me to read the news and hear the world support Iran, in her nuclear ambitions, and then to hear about these immigrants. I came to Israel for positive reasons, to elevate myself in Judaism and to join in the struggle for the future of this free, democratic state. Those Jews had the devil behind their backs, chasing them, tearing away their freedoms and threatening their survival. I came on my own terms. They came because of the nature of other people. I came because it's hard to learn Hebrew in America. They came because Hebrew is illegal in Iran! I came voluntarily; they were nearly forced to.

If ever Jews and Christians were both celebrating on Christmas, today is that day!

Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah, the Jewish Christmas (just kidding). This holiday, as most people probably know, is the "Festival of Lights," celebrating the Jewish overthrow of Greek rule of Eretz Israel in the year 165 BCE. Essentially, the Seleucid Empire brought Hellenism to Israel, and the Maccabbe family of Cohenim (priests) organized a revolt against the attack on traditional Israelite religion and the Holy Temple. As the Maccabees drove out the Greeks, they entered the Temple, wishing to relight the menorah (candelabra). There was only enough oil for one day, but as the story goes, the oil burned miraculously for eight.

Hence, tonight is the first of eight nights of candle lighting. This holiday is one of my favorite, because the entire celebration is remembering the ability of a tiny, embattled nation, to overcome insurmountable odds. The Greek empire was exerting its influence on just another vassal state, and somehow a group of priests were able to drive out the world's strongest army, and did so without savage means. The Jews of that age were strong, powerful, intelligent, and civilized. Our liberators were religious men, in fact they were zealots, but they were also militarily strong (and strong without terrorism, either, in case someone wants to draw a contradiction between me revering the Jews and castigating the modern Arabs)...in fact, the leader was Yehuda HaMaccabbe, or Judah the Hammer, or The Jewish Hammer. Isn't that one badass name?

It goes without saying that a 23 year old Zionist would find the entire story inspirational, filled with pride, nationalism, courage, and precedent. Israel is currently walking down a path of doubt, doubt in the future of the state, but tonight and the following week should be a time to lift our spirits. After all, we certainly do not have it worse now than the Maccabees had. Even studying Torah, the Bible, was illegal under Greek rule. Now, we are truly in control of our destiny. My parents, and family and friends, often ask me how I'm doing, how I feel, etc. I feel proud to be here, supporting Israel with my very life, like a modern day Judah Maccabbe -- an unemployed Judah, maybe, but one in spirit at least.

Happy Hanukkah -- Chag Chanukah Sameach!

The traditional Sabbath (Shabbat) for orthodox/traditional Jews, as we've been practicing for thousands of years, is from sundown Friday until sundown Saturday. Of the many customs that are practiced, one is always among the most favorite for all observers. That would be the large, warm meal served for Shabbat lunch. Basically, this meal is usually eaten around noon, Saturday. Three meals are eaten during Shabbat, all of them mandatory.

The Talmud discusses the way of the Karaites, a Jewish fanatic group of ancient Israel, who believed only in the written Torah (i.e.- the Bible), and not in the Talmud. The Talmud contains the Mishnah, which is a large set of typically short discussions on laws (a paragraph or so). Orthodox Jews believe that this portion of the Talmud was passed down from G-d to Moses on Mt. Sinai, as the Bible was spoken to Moses in the same way, at the same time. This has been the view for all of Israelite-Jewish history. I'm not telling you what to believe, I'm just giving some background.

One of the ways that the Karaites differed was that they were extreme literalists of the Bible. What's relative to my past Shabbat was the Karaite perspective, taken literally from a Deuteronomy passage, which says that there is to be no flame in a home on Shabbat. Orthodox Jews do not light fires, or deal with fires at all on Shabbat, but the Karaites felt this meant you could not have any light in your house, or have an oven on...while the rabbis long before felt that the law meant one could not kindle fires, but could have light from before or food in a sealed oven from before the sabbath, and could thus eat hot food on the holy day. In response to the extremist Karaites, the rabbis of the Sanhedrin, the high legal court of ancient Israel, integrated into Jewish law the requirement to eat hot food on Shabbat. This was a sort of institutionalization of the rejection of the Karaite sect.

That being said, the Shabbat lunch meal is a great time of happiness, where friends and families get together to hold this traditional, custom-filled meal. A friend of mine had her birthday yesterday, and decided to cook up a big lunch. I went by her place on Friday to help cook, all of which must be fully finished before Shabbat starts, and got a small taste of what we were going to have.

We prepared all the food in a great hurry, realizing that we had started too late. In other words, I watched her prepare, and I stirred what needed to be stirred or chopped what needed to be chopped. Here was the menu:

Garlic crusted chicken breasts; one spicy variation,
Peanut sauce & cilantro noodles (the best),
Meatballs,
Caramelized carrots,
Green bean something or other...

And for dessert there were two ridiculously rich, overkill cakes. One was a peanut butter and dark chocolate combo, which tasted like 10 Reese's cups packed into every bite, and the other was a three-layer chocolate cake which was nearly as rich as fudge. I watched as my friend made these, taking about nine chocolate bars, melting them in a pot, and then pouring the hot chocolate layer by layer into the pan.

Saturday was quite the day, filled with me over-eating all these delicacies, having the now traditional shots of vodka, discussing Torah (Jacob got his wives in the portion of the week-- keyword, plural wives), and meeting new friends.

I'm sure my family and friends worry that I don't eat enough, but rest assured, I did this weekend.

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/world/2007/10/02/shubert.mideast.pilgrims.mission.cnn

I was talking about the parade of foreigners in festive gear, waving flags and sporting their countries on their shirts. Well, apparently they were evangelical Christians here to support Israel, specifically during our holiday of Succot. I'm not so sure how I feel about the whole evangelical Christian support for Israel, considering that they believe we are here to fulfill the message of Jesus...

On the other hand these Christians do support Jews living in the land, and they are just about as strong on the issue of Israeli sovereignty over the land as anyone else. That means they don't believe in giving away land to anyone, for any reason. However, someone once said to me: we need to be careful of our bed-fellows.

Jerusalem Nights

Jerusalem is abuzz with the holidays, which are still raging strong with the festive celebration of Sukkot. Everyone is in love with this holiday, a commemoration of the sheltering of the Israelites during the 40 years of wandering in the desert with Moses. In addition, it coincides with the beginning of the rainy season here in Israel (there is a definite dry season, and then a definite rainy season – a Mediterranean climate). This is definitely a happy time, with everyone sleeping and eating in a Sukkah, basically a shelter with palm tops (i.e.- a holy shed).

The problem is that Sukkot is my least favorite Jewish holiday. I never felt connected to it. There is something too involved with it. You are supposed to eat every meal, sleep every night, literally ‘dwell’ in the Sukkah. It’s just not my thing. I really never even understood the meaning of Sukkah, whether it was a celebration of sheltering or celebrating the all-important rain. It’s just not my bag of tea.

Thankfully, really truthfully thankfully, one of my good friends is back in Israel for a couple weeks. She is an American-Israeli, and her sisters and mom and step-father live here in Jerusalem, all of whom I know. So, I’m eating all my meals at their comfortable apartment in one of the higher-class areas of Jerusalem. I feel relaxed there.

Last night after the first night of Sukkot my friend, her sister, and myself went out into town to have a drink. Jerusalem has a very condense, lively bar scene, but the problem is that it is often packed with 18 year old ‘freckas and arsim.’ Without giving a definition of those terms, I’ll just tell you that they are loud, physical, and generally have the same manners as gorillas.

Eventually a new friend of mine that I met on the plane over here called me, and she joined up with us at a tucked away, age-restricted bar. Eventually the group split up, with me and my new friend going to a bar owned by Shlomke, a 30 some year old guy who is obsessed with her and her ex-IDF boyfriend.

This is a good time to introduce the Israeli term ‘proteckzia.’ Basically, this is pulling strings for people, generally used in the army. This means that a guy that knows a big-dog in the army can easily get into a prestigious or desired unit, no questions asked. I feel that Shlomke is the kind of person that has proteckzia to get people what they want. He owns a very successful bar, which we sat at with him, surrounded by roaring teens. Every 20 minutes or so he would grab one of his waitresses, say a few words, and then they would bring us liquor. I was planning on having a beer, but it’s kind of hard to say no to a Godfather character. It really was an impressive scene, and I had the distinct impression that this guy could get me into the unit I want in the army.

During the course of the night I met a few Americans that have done the same thing I have, moving to Israel. They were friends of my new friend, Bethany. It’s really a lot more popular thing than most people in America realize. Jerusalem itself has quickly become an ‘Anglo’ city, where the most common language is English. Anyway, all these young Americans seem to have pretty good jobs.

Bethany just got a job as a glorified secretary, some type of administrative assistant or something, making the equivalent of $35,000 or so in America (which is great for the level of the work, and that she is 22 with no one to support but herself). Levy, another kid I met, is making the equivalent of $45-50,000. And so on, and so on.

I’m living off savings, a pretty generous grant from Nefesh B’Nefesh, and my ‘sal klitah,’ or absorption basket (read: welfare). I’m living and eating for free, but not really doing what I want to be doing. Hearing these kids, who all have their own apartments and jobs and lives, I feel like a blob. Supposedly learning Torah all day is more important than working for the man all day, but I’m at the point in my life where I want to work for the man. I don’t care who I work for, I just want to apply what I’ve learned, instead of sitting and learning even more. Granted, I do love learning about the Jewish traditons, but I don’t think that I need to read books and listen to lectures from 9am to 7pm for more than another few months.

I am the adventurous type, the guy at 19 that backpacked America for 2 months all alone (by bus), went to Israel for 2.5 months all alone knowing no one and nothing first-hand about Israel, spent 9 months in Israel studying and living, and now I have become an Israeli citizen, with no family and very few friends here. It’s amazing how far a person will go to pursue an ideology. It’s amazing that with a simple desire people can push themselves so far.

But equally amazing, and certainly more distressing, is how powerfully immobilizing comfort can be. I have a bed, an apartment (granted with many others, but my room is private), free food, a beautiful place with A/C where I study all day, and generally kind people all around. I would like to find a job and have my own place and work all day… but it’s just not going to happen for a while. It’s hard to turn down some free and comfortable.

If you thought I had it all figured out, you’re wrong! I have some solid plans though for January – and hopefully a job will be in the sights around then. For now I’m just another moocher, livin’ on the dole.

Tourism in Israel, Jerusalem's Old City - YIKES

For about a week before Rosh HaShanah, traditional Jews across the world started saying “Selichot,” which are heartfelt supplicatory prayers. These supplications are in preparation for asking forgiveness for transgressions committed during the year, with the culmination on Yom Kippur. Those that take such things seriously, which feels like just about all of Jerusalem, say these prayers with great alacrity as soon as the ‘Jewish day’ begins.

Consequently, the Old City of Jerusalem, the focal point of all religious Jews in the entire world, has been packed to full capacity every night of the past couple weeks. Everyone from the ‘ultra-orthodox’ that live in the religious neighborhood of Mea Shaarim to middle-class Israelis from outside Tel Aviv to Christian pilgrims from Russia have swarmed the banks, so to say, swelling the high stone walls beyond capacity. From the perspective of a person that actually lives in the Old City, and from the lens of simply being able to walk freely to reach my apartment, this influx can be quite obnoxious. Trying to squeeze past 50 Ukrainians with snapping cameras, every night, makes a person a bit short-tempered.

But from the perspective of a person that relishes the importance of Jerusalem, of the holiest city, of all the nations of the world focusing on ‘the eye of the universe,’ these tourists and pilgrims alike are a blessing. Having these Jews and non-Jews come to Jerusalem is nothing more than a confirmation of the Jewish people, Jerusalem, and the centrality of those two living in Israel. What I’m trying to say is that tourism is heartwarming for a beleaguered nation. The spiritual, emotional, and economic boost that these people bring helps to swallow the traffic a bit easier.

The destination for all these people is the Western Wall, a supporting wall of the Temple Mount. Jews believe that G-d is everywhere, he is omnipresent. However, we also believe he listens more closely to those in Israel, and within Israel to Jerusalem, and within Jerusalem to Har Habayit, or the Temple Mount. Naturally it follows that the Western Wall, part of this Mount, is a pilgrimage point, especially during holidays. These prayers, the Selichot, following the Jewish belief, will be heard with great compassion and forgiveness at the Wall.

Due to the belief in the centrality of the Temple Mount, the Western Wall Plaza has been packed every single night. There has been probably over a thousand people packed into a relatively small area, crying out, singing in prayer, swaying with their emotions, all the while experiencing self-evaluation next to thousands doing the same. It’s really a very moving scene, regardless how you feel about your own personal self-evaluation. Attached is a picture of the crowd. This one is high quality, so you can click on it, zoom in, and really get a grasp on how many people are down there! Oh, and this view is from my yeshiva (it may be the best view in the world).

Earlier I posted a few pictures of the courtyard adjacent to my apartment. The past two weeks this area has been simply packed with Israeli school groups taking field trips to the Old City. They have had speeches here, theatrical demonstrations of Biblical-era Jerusalemites (just like you see a mock Patrick Henry at Colonial Williamsburg), and most recently a concert. The concert is what is in this picture, and all these people seemed to be there half the night. Needless to say, I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.

Part 2: Rosh HaShanah

Ramadan began this year just around the time as Rosh HaShanah, and the convergence of these two holy days has been somewhat unpleasant. Ramadan is a name for a month in the Muslim calendar. It is supposedly the month when Muhammad received the Quran, and as such it is a time of holy introspection, family togetherness, charity, and all the warm fuzzy stuff. Oh, and they can’t eat for a whole month during the daylight. SUCKS, I’m sure.

Muslims pray 5 times a day all year round, but during Ramadan there are extra prayers. I don’t know exactly when they are, or if they are in addition to the normal 5 or in place of, but these special prayers have to be about 4 in the morning. During Rosh HaShanah Jews aren’t to use electricity, and so there is a certain stillness in the night. Breaking that silence, the muezzin, or the guy that calls Muslims to prayer from the minarets above every mosque, cries out in the most unique undulations and pleas. The peace of a night in Jewish Jerusalem is transformed into Cairo, or Damascus, and one almost feels as if he has been transported back 500 years to a different time. I’m not saying these calls are a bad thing, I’m just saying they come at ridiculous times, and seem to be coming from a different world – in fact they are coming from a different world, at least a place I would never understand.

I can’t figure this one out either: Every day now at around 5 or so, as night is creeping in, the Muslims set off some big explosion and then not a second later the muezzin begins his call. I don’t see an explosion, I don’t see smoke, but it’s quite the noticeable sound. It really sounds like a bomb, but it’s definitely something directly related to their holiday. Maybe it’s a warning to not mess with them during their holiday…

In addition to the Muslim intensity for Ramadan prayers, the Jewish community was a spectacle itself this year for Rosh HaShanah. Last year I went to an orthodox synagogue for Rosh HaShanah, and found myself in a very uncomfortable situation. The rabbi was actually a guest rabbi, but he grew up in the very synagogue that he came back to lead for the holiday. His parents recently died, and after 30 years he finally came back, with much guilt for living so far away. Halfway into the service the rabbi breaks down in heavy sobs, literally crying like a baby, unable to speak. He would try to continue singing, get halfway through the first word or sentence, and lose his stuff all over again. This went on for probably 45 straight options. And he was the only singing – it was his job.

Needless to say, that was quite uncomfortable. Well, the rabbi that they had at the yeshiva was a serious professional. His grandfather, or great-grandfather (can’t remember which), was an extremely famous rabbi; the subject of the book Tzaddik in our Time. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say this guy’s granddad was to the Jewish world like Thomas Jefferson is to the American national consciousness. With all that seriousness around me, I felt I had to escape the place. Six hours straight of being around all the guys, enamored with their leader while I wasn’t nearly impressed (I mean, I don’t even know if I believe half the things these people take for granted), sent me packing.

I went down to the Western Wall to find my own personal clarity and meaning. There is a large, large cave alleyway connected to the Wall, which is actually a Roman era covering where they built apartments next to the Wall. So, you go into the area and are still at the Wall, but it’s cave-like: cold, slightly damp, cozy. I grabbed a corner and a certain book, and was feeling pretty good. Then a rabbi leading a group in prayer began to wail, similarly distracting as the one I experienced last year.

This guy was wailing in long, high pitched, sustained cries. At first it wasn’t too bad, just whimpering and a few second long yelps. Then he built up to a bit longer of a wail. Eventually he was yelling for 10 minutes straight, only stopping to breathe. No one was going to tell the guy to be quiet, because in terms of the theory of the day this behavior is what the Jewish portrayal of G-d would really want… but, it was obnoxious. Once he stopped, whenever he tried to start his outburst again everyone would shush him. Thank goodness, because it was so crazy looking.

Finally the day ended, we ate a big meal, and then I watched a movie on my computer. The next day was Tzom Gedaliah, a fast-day, which was especially difficult considering how many meals I had in the past few days. I’ll be glad when all the holidays are over, and we get a couple weeks off. I plan on going up north, hopefully with a few guys I don’t mind from here. I already need a vacation from this place.

Attached here are a few low-res pictures. This is the square where I live. I took the pictures of it from the entrance to my apartment. The big house and square is the Beit Rothschild and the square I was talking about earlier. They took the sign down, but that column in the second pictures is like 2000 years old or something. Just sitting there, like everything else in this city. You walk by something ancient, but there's so many ancient things, some stuff simply becomes play-toy for kids. Typically it is packed with kids, but they’re in class right now so I’ll have to take some better shots later. Also is my “apartment,” which actually would be a nice place if there weren’t 10 people living here. Also is a better quality pic of the view from my window. Not bad for 100% free living. Not that nice either, though.

Part 1: Rosh HaShanah

(NOTE: I know this is long, so if you don’t want to read it all, I do recommend reading the stories starting at “In an attempt at brevity…”)


That was a long 3 days. Wednesday night started Rosh HaShanah, which ended on Friday night. Friday night was the start, as always, of the Sabbath (Shabbat). That ends on Saturday night. What does this mean? These days, yomim tovim (lit. good days), are filled with all manner of restrictions that are the backbone of Jewish law. No electricity, generally no washing (cold showers are permitted on Rosh HaShanah), and all manner of other things that take years to learn and countless checked actions. If you actually want to keep these days in this traditional way, you have to really know your stuff, and keep your mind sharp on the task.

These restrictions are supposed to separate the mundane from the holy, the week from the holidays. They certainly do their job. If you are wondering where they come from, I could give you a long explanation. Let me know. I’ll say for the sake of the blog, however, that they come from the Bible. In a sentence: when the Jews were commanded by G-d to construct the Tabernacle (Mishkan), which housed the Ark of the Covenant (Aron), they had to do about 39 different types of activities (malachot), such as winnowing, writing, building, erasing, and so on. These are the things we cannot do on these special days (including every Shabbat), because G-d said to rest on the 7th day, and in that passage it is directly preceded by a discussion of the ‘work’ done to construct the Mishkan. Ok, two sentences. If it doesn’t make sense, I can explain it better – I don’t want this to be too pedantic or preachy.

So, during these holidays, Jews being Jews, we have about 3 HUGE meals every 24 hours. That is, we have a big meal at night, a big meal at the afternoon, and then another big meal at night. These things aren’t just meals, they’re religious events. Since this was the new year, we had all manner of symbolic things to eat, with special prayers on everything. Counting them up, we ate 7 or 8 four course meals, in the last 3 days. Each one of these takes about two hours, replete with boisterous singing, liquor, and many speeches.

In an attempt at brevity, I’ll just tell you one of the stories I heard, and a brief recount of another. Because I don’t remember the guys’ names that told them, I’ll make up names. They told these well, because they were personal – I recognize my lack of ability in retelling them. Anyway…

It was a Shabbat morning, and Jacob wanted to get to the Beit Midrash, the study hall, early so he could get in some studying before it became too loud. He arrived at about 6:30am or so, grabbed a cup of steaming tea, a book, and took a seat in the corner. He sat in an isolated spot, next to the large oval windows that looked out at the Western Wall, and started reading.

Next thing he knew, not 10 minutes later, a crazy looking young guy ran in. Crazy people tend to find their way to Jerusalem; some type of religious syndrome (maybe the Jerusalem Syndrome, where they think they are the messiah, something I have witnessed numerous times). So, the guy RUNS into the study hall, a sacred and holy place, wearing shorts, tzitzit hanging out, a bloody tank top, and an expression as if he is running for his life. Jacob has seen this before, as we all have, and he turned as much as he could into the wall and his book, hiding his face. He was relieved when the crazy guy went to the only other person in the hall.

Crazy man was flailing his arms wildly, telling whatever his story was, saying whatever crazy stuff he could. These guys usually are so nuts you cannot even follow their stories, and from Jacob’s view this guy was no different. He looked like a total bum.

Surely enough, after the guy told his story to the other guy in the hall, they both got up and came over to Jacob. His one thought: CRAP. These things never tend to take 2 minutes. Well, they come over, and the crazy guy begins to tell his story.

“HEY, YOU GOTTA HELP ME,” he nearly screamed, out of breath, a real mess.
“Ok, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Last night my friend locked himself in his room, he was trying to commit suicide. The whole yeshiva was trying to help him, to get him to open the door. After a few hours he opened it, but he bolted past us, and he ran.”
“Where did you guys come from?”
“Har Nof,” said the crazy guy. Har Nof is about an hour from the Western Wall.
“What? When did this happen?”
“Last night, like around 11pm! He’s been running through all the city, the Old City, through all the alleys, EVERYWHERE! We’ve been running after him since last night! He’s a Chinese runner!”
“Seriously? Where is he now?,” asks Jacob, in obvious disbelief, or shock.
“He’s at the Wall.”
“What is he doing there?”
“Praying. We gotta go down there and get him!”

Jacob proceeds to really elucidate this situation. Where else in the world would someone who wants to commit suicide run for 7 hours away from a whole group of guys looking to help him, and then run to presumably the holiest place in the entire world? This guy, though he is a crazy Chinese runnerman, is now a true Jew! So, as Jacob says, they decide that they have to go down to the Wall to talk to this guy.

So the scene is a guy with a blood and sweat soaked wife-beater tanktop, looking thoroughly mad, and two proper looking Orthodox Jews wearing their best suits and 100% rabbit fedora hats. They walk down to the Wall, see the Chinese kid really praying hard, finish his prayer, look behind him – as only someone would do who has been chased for hours would do – and he BOLTS. He runs past everyone, past tons of Orthodox Jews preparing for a holy day, and the group resumes its chase through the Old city. This time, with Jacob in hot pursuit as well. He can barely keep up, but after about 20 minutes they make it to an exit to the new city, and the guys, still running full speed in pursuit, turn around and shout, “IT”S OK, HE’S HEADING BACK HOME! THANKS!”

I know, right? So, these stories always have a good point to them. Jacob asks us, “how many bad looks do you think we got at the Wall?” This was not only a holy day, but a revered spot, the very spot that Muslims and Jews have fought over for the past 100 years in some of the most famous struggles known to modern man! And here comes a blood soaked bum, running after some crazy looking Chinese kid. How many bad looks did the blood soaked shirt ‘crazy guy’ get?

Tons. And Jacob surely gave him bad looks too, when he first saw him. But, he learned from this experience that you can never judge anyone based on their current actions or their appearance. How many people in this world would go so far out of their way to help their fellow man, to chase him for his own good for an entire night? And then someone is going to shoot him looks of death, of desecration? We can never guess at what someone is going through, what he is doing for another man. As the old saying goes, ‘you can never judge a book by its cover.’

--

A guy stands up, one of the guys that has just joined the yeshiva, a previously very-unreligious person. These moments to speak to the entire yeshiva are reserved for guys that really know their stuff. This guy is brand new to the religious world. He literally knows just about nothing: no laws, no Torah, no philosophy. To speak to the yeshiva, including the head of the yeshiva (a venerated individual), our guests, head rabbis, and so on, is a real privilege. This is what he said, in near verbatim:

“Last summer I was in the war in Lebanon. I’ve lived here for six years, and so they called me up in my artillery unit, and we were up there, actually in war. Long story made short, I found myself in the proverbial foxhole, pinned down under heavy fire. We were losing our battle, we started to retreat, got inside a tank, and were running for our lives. Tanks typically hold about three people, but we had crammed about eight guys in there, with ammunition all around us, guns, artillery shells, everything you could think of.

“Hezbollah was shooting at us, we weren’t even able to close the top door to the tank, and there were flames all around us. Sparks from the fires around us were dropping down into the tank, threatening to set the shells and ammunition off. In truth, the ammunition really should have exploded. But anyway, it didn’t for whatever reason, and we were running for our lives. We were dead. This was a lose-lose situation, and it is a true miracle that I am still breathing today, unscathed.

“So the driver of this tank was a real religious guy, a Hassidic Jew, as religious as you could imagine. The rest of us were secular, Tel Aviv types, guys that didn’t know or care a thing about religion. But you know what they say about guys in a foxhole, that there is no atheist, so we were all whimpering to ourselves whatever we could think of. We were terrified, we knew we would never see our families again, our parents would be so sad, we would never see our girlfriends, never drink beer again, never see the ocean. It was by far the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.

“But, this religious guy, the driver! He was singing! He was singing so loud, songs of praise and joy! He was beyond happy, it seemed, and I just could not understand how he was singing as bullets were ricocheting off the tank, flames coming inside, and certain death awaiting us! You don’t understand! He was in ecstasy!

“I don’t think I really understand how he could have been so happy, under the circumstances. But, at that point I decided that I really needed to learn, if I lived, how someone could sing joyously to G-d as he dies. And here I am.”

Needless to say, we were all spellbound. This guy had a way of telling his story, as I’m sure he’s told it 100 times over the past year. I can, however, fill in his missing blank at the end, in other words why this Hassid was singing. Unlike really anyone else in the world, Hassidic Jews find joy in everything. No matter their fate, they see it as G-d’s hand in their life.

Moreover, religious Jews await with great anticipation their death. As Rabbi Nachman of Bretslav said on his deathbed, “I am quite ready to be rid of this tiresome garment,” referring to his flesh. They wait to stand in G-d’s presence, the Shechinah, an experience that the Sages say one second of is better than the most glorious lifetime in this mortal world. Don’t think that religious Jews are like religious Muslims, seeking to die as soon as possible in order to get to Heaven. Rather, they relish this world, and when it is time to leave, they sing with great joy for the next. I’m not so certain, but I know that it is with great respect I look towards anyone that can take the end of his life and turn it into a festive expression of love for G-d.

I’ll post the rest of my entry tomorrow.

Erev Rosh HaShanah - History, Religious Info

Today is Erev Rosh Hashanah, which means it is the eve of the Jewish new year. Judaism works on a different calendar than the Gregorian calendar, which was only introduced in 1582 C.E. as a modification of the Julian, or Roman, calendar. It seems so guaranteed to us, Westerners, that January 1 is the new year. It is inherent in the year, right? In actuality, January 1 was only introduced in 1752 as the new year (according to my research), as March 25th was originally the start of the next year.

Anyway, the Jewish calendar is from biblical times. Unlike the solar-based Gregorian calendar, the Jewish counterpart is lunar. The Gregorian needs to use leap years, and at one point even had to suppress 10 or 11 days in order to reach the solar year. A lunar calendar is much more accurate.

Tomorrow, Thursday, is the end of the month of Elul and the beginning of Tishrei, the new year, 5768. According to the most religious groups, specifically creationists, this calendar was begun by Adam when he was materialized by G-d. So, the world is 5768 years old. Granted, I’ve heard some pretty interesting and attractive theories on what a ‘day’ means in regard to the Creation story…but whatever your thoughts, the Jewish calendar is certainly old (and the world is certainly older). I very much love the Jewish year. It is one of the few extant unadulterated customs the world has to offer. A quality of preservation is unique to the Jewish way.

Elul, besides being the final month of the year, or maybe because of that status, is a month of intense self-evaluation. Religious Jews spend the entire month holding certain practices, like additions to prayers, in order to bring out their repentance, which begins tonight.

Rosh HaShanah lasts for 2 days – 2 days of intense prayer for forgiveness and preparation for Yom Kippur, the climax of ‘T’shuva,’ roughly meaning ‘to return,’ or atonement. Today and slightly before is the day that Jews ask anyone they know for forgiveness for any time this year that they wronged others. This time is more serious than you know, or could realize, unless you lived in Israel, a religious community, and especially in the Old City!

Tomorrow, and the day after (the second day of Rosh HaShanah), people spend about 6 hours straight in the synagogue, praying. The prayers begin, in my yeshiva, at 6:30am or so, and last until 1, or whatever 6 hours is. Then there is a meal, a break (where you are supposed to read Tehillim, or psalms), and then more praying at night. This is the day when you hear the Shofar, the ram’s horn.

The scary part is that this is a call to BEGIN repenting for your wrongdoings. After Rosh HaShanah finishes, we begin the 10 Days of Repentance, which leads directly to the heaviest day of the year, Yom Kippur. The sadness, the seriousness of T’shuva, doesn’t end until Succot, a joyous day celebrating the beginning of the rainy season in Israel.

I’ll write about the amazing rainy versus dry season of Israel when that time comes. And yes, I plan on going to the prayers – warily.