Happy Holidays From The IDF

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, starts tonight. Last year I was drafted right after the holidays, so consequently all I could think about was the army. If only I could have seen the Danny of 5770 one year ago as I sat in my Jerusalem apartment, worrying my little head away.

So, here's to a sweet and productive new year, a year of peace for Israel. May we see the return of Gilad Shalit, reconciliation with the resident Arabs, and a Palestinian initiated overthrow of the cancerous Hamas regime.

And in the very least, as our deputy battalion commander put it, "a deadly year for our enemies."

Commander Sweetheart At His Best

My commander, a small Ethiopian guy with a big smile, is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me in the army. He understands my position (24, mature-ish, educated, motivated, less than perfect Hebrew), and better yet, he seems to respect me. When I mess up, which is inevitable, he tells me what to do instead of yelling and giving me punishment. My squad commander is just about the greatest guy in the world.

The other morning us religious kids returned from the morning prayers and did the obligatory announcing of the commander. It's like the "officer on deck!" thing in the American navy, I guess. Commander Sweetheart put a smile on my face as usual:

"FOR THE RECEPTION OF THE COMMANDER BY THE RELIGIOUS, STAND AT ATTENTION! 2, 3... ATTTENNN-TION!!"

Commander Sweetheart walked down the line with his hands in his pocket, a grin on his face, and then came to a stop. He stood with his feet together in the orthodox Jewish prayer style and rocked back and forth like an Old Word rabbi.

"Amen!," he shouted.

Hanukkah In The Jewish Army

I studied in a Jewish seminary (yeshiva) a few years back, and at the time I was just beginning to consider the idea of serving in the Israeli Army. This particular yeshiva is a "charedi" institution - essentially ultra-orthodox. Charedi yeshivas are generally not very Zionistic, and their opinion of young men serving in an army instead of spending all day every day studying Torah is fairly low. So, when I volunteered to a rabbi that I was interested in the IDF, the response wasn't warm, to say the least.

The rhetoric thrown around was that the IDF is a "bad place for religious Jews." They liked to say that it's hard to be religious there, that it's hard to keep your level of faith, and that there are too many bad influences. At the time I didn't have any other information, I didn't know what it's like to be orthodox in the army, so I just took it for what it was worth: hyper-religious Jerusalemites judging what they had no experience in in the first place. I didn't know what to think, but I assumed that they were being slightly dramatic.

And now I know just how wrong they were. I have become even more observant of Torah law in the army. I pray three times a day, as required in Judaism, I'm kosher without condition, and I celebrate all the holidays and cultural events to the max. It's just so easy to be religious in the army. We wake up in the morning, do a gun safety check, and then we are promptly given nearly an hour for the morning prayers. It's either pray or clean the rooms...

Easy choice. Shabbat and the holidays, as well, are just kind of thrown in your face. For example, for Shabbat the entire base eats a festive and special meal together on Friday night. In the beginning we say the kiddush, a sanctification of the sabbath day, with the entire base standing with heads covered in the Jewish fashion. We all say amen together, and inevitably hundreds of soldiers are singing and dancing to Jewish songs. There's also a dvar Torah, or a saying from the Torah - similar to a sermon, but usually a highly specific and interesting tidbit on an aspect of a Bible story.

In fact, the army is such a good place for religious people that I have actually wondered if the secular soldiers are often uncomfortable or offended. We say prayers together, we have to listen to a religious sermon from a rabbi, there is a large synagogue in the middle of the base, the meals are mandatory, and the commanders made it very clear to not disturb the Shabbat observant crowd - i.e., electronics playing music, excessive use of the lights, etc.

I'm constantly surprised at the religiosity of this organization. So when Hanukkah came around I was happily surprised as we were gathered each night to light the candles, say the prayers, and join in on singing and dancing to celebrate the victory that the Maccabeans had over the powerful Greeks. Here we were, a group of Jewish soldiers celebrating the most unlikely of upsets by our Jewish brothers 2000 years before. For so long we had no state, much less no army, and consequently we had no security. Our people were thrown from land to land, abused and led like sheep to the slaughter. But finally we've returned, and I'm a part of that.

As we sang "Al HaNisim" I couldn't help but feel the hand of divine assistance; the Maccabean War and the 1948 War of Independence seemed like one and the same. Hanukkah is a celebration of the Jews overcoming the Greek oppressors, a regime that attempted to destroy the Jewish people, faith, and state. We overcame them then, and we will overcome the attackers of our state again. Hanukkah is a celebration of the physical strength to be found in faith, and I think what the charedi yeshivas are missing is that the IDF's fist is steeled only because its other hand is grasping a Torah.

We know where our strength comes from, just as Joshua and David knew, just as Judah The Maccabee knew. Here's a video of my platoon dancing and singing part of "Al HaNisim." I wish I had the camera out for the lighting of the candles. Look below the video for a translation of the song.



"And for the miracles, and for the salvation, and for the mighty deeds, and for the victories, and for the battles which You performed for our forefathers in those days, at this time.

...When the wicked Greek kingdom rose up against your people Israel to make them forget Your Torah and compel them to stray from the statutes of Your Will, You in Your great mercy stood up for them in the time of their distress. You took up their grievance, judged their claim, and avenged their wrong. You delivered the strong into the hands of the weak, the man into the hands of the few, the impure into the hands of the pure, the wicked into the hands of the righteous, and the wanton into the hands of the diligent students of Your Torah..."

Jerusalem Breeds Crazies Part 2!

Jerusalem can be a tiny city at times. If you'll remember this story from March (and if you don't, you should read it), we get a lot of crazy people around this town. You've got the lady that walks up and down the street in a white robe with a gleaming silver scepter shouting she's the messiah. You've got the homeless man with cardboard signs standing on a soapbox downtown trying to start a new religion with Judas Iscariot as the messiah. You've got the burka cult modesty women who turned out to be child molesters. You've got the crazed Ethiopian I sat next to on the bus last week who was screaming about Arabs ruining the country, then he got yelled at by an Arab, and then so he started yelling about the Russians bleeding the country dry (I have video). Yeah, we've got it all and then some!

So back in March I was riding the bus, as the story I linked to above described in full, when a crazy woman and her "brother" boarded. She was a whirlwind of drug-induced dialogue and slap-stick comedy. The brother, however, just sat in the corner seat like a blob, a wide grin painted on his face. He had on multiple pairs of tzitzit (a Biblically commanded garment that orthodox Jews wear), which is way in excess of the required number: 1.

Just like that burka cult that went way in excess. Well, finally I got a picture of the guy the other day as he went and bought some vodka at the corner store next to my apartment. That picture right there would have gotten me hundreds, if not thousands of hits a few months ago. There is a popular blog that happened to acquire some pictures of a burka cult lady and her multiple tzitzit-wearing husband in a grocery store in Beit Shemesh - thousands of hits in one day. People love to see crazy people!

Damn. I'm always a few weeks behind... kinda like my paycheck from September that I still haven't received.

Orthodox Jewish Wig - Sheitel

Orthodox Jewish women, according to Jewish law, are supposed to cover their hair. This law is followed in varying degrees across Judaism, with the obvious non-acceptance, to the most stringent interpretation. I had a discussion with an engaged friend today about what his future bride will do, and so I remembered a picture I took a month ago or so.

I was on a little trip with some friends to an archaelogical site here in Jerusalem, an area which happened to be packed with many ultra orthodox (charedim). We purchased our ticket at the crowded counter, me trying not to bump into of the married women - touching is a no-no - and then moved to the rental lockers to store cell phones and the like.

I looked down at the flower-box lined bench next to me and saw a weird sight. A sheitel, a European wig, was poking out from the bags laying on the wooden planks. Was a woman buried underneath the backpacks? Were her legs chopped off? Was she taking a nap in the most awkward position ever? I couldn't figure it out...

Then I realized that it was just the wig. I was thrown off guard, considering these women NEVER remove their wig, and certainly not in public. End of story. Just wanted to start the post-Yom Kippur season, the end of the super seriousness of the High Holy Days in Judaism, off on the right foot. Setting the tone for the new year, you know?

Rosh HaShanah 5769

Ah, a new year. It will indeed be good. I wish all a great New Year! At the festive meal for Rosh HaShanah (seder), many people hold the custom of eating a pomegranate in order to say a special blessing thanking Gd for "bringing us to this season," which essentially means thank you for the chance to be where we are. I hope we all can truly say thank you for being here, alive, with the chance to do so much good. A new year should not be for personal commitments. Rather, it should be dedicated to improving the lives of others. That's the message of Judaism. That's the lesson I am going to take from Rosh HaShanah.

The pomegranate, the seeds of which you see above, is a special fruit to Judaism. The Bible lauds the Land of Israel for its pomegranates. The seeds of this delicious and spiritual fruit symbolize to Jews the abundance of good deeds with which we aspire to. In fact, the Talmud says that "even the wicked among Israel are filled with good deeds like pomegranates are filled with seeds." Hassidism teaches many mystically beautiful lessons from that concept.

I wonder, however, how they would explain why grenade in modern Hebrew is the same word for pomegranate...

Click here for my post on Rosh HaShanah last year, the first month I was a citizen in Israel! It has two good stories in it, one of which is an awesome story from an Israeli soldier who became interested in religion from the Lebanon War - you can probably guess why. There are no atheists in foxholes, right?

!!!!שנה טובה

Muslim Call To Prayer - Adhan

Islam requires its adherents to pray five specific times a day. In order to signal the times of the prayer, the muezzin performs the adhan. The muezzin in modern times and areas uses a loudspeaker that is broadcast from the top of a mosque's minaret, calling out in Arabic the adhan's words:

Allahu Akbar! (God is the greatest)
Ash-hadu an la ilaha illallah (I bear witness that there is no deity except Gd)
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasulullah (I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Gd)
Hayya 'alas-salah (Make haste towards prayer)
Hayya 'alal-falah (Make haste towards welfare)
As-salatu khayru min an-naum (Prayer is better than sleep)
Allahu akbar (Gd is the greatest)
La ilaha illallah (There is no deity except Allah)

Living in Jerusalem, with its high population of Muslims, I have become acclimated to hearing the adhan at all hours of the day and night. I've lived in the Old City for about five months, as well, and anyone who lives in that area is especially treated to this Islamic call to prayer. The Old City has its own Muslim Quarter, so you get the loudspeakers booming from there, as well as the Arab town Wadi Al-Joz across the Kidron Valley on Mount Olives.

Muslim call to prayer. I took this from Ir David, the City of David.

Sorry about the obnoxious Americans talking.  There are like five

different mosques all broadcasting at the same time, so it's pretty

overwhelming to be hear it in person.

Some of these calls to prayer are during crazy hours of the day. Consequently, many people get woken up by the ringing Arabic echoing off Jerusalem's valley walls. I often found myself woken in the middle of the night by the adhan, at least for the first months I lived here. Let me just provide an analogy. I come from a little rural town in Virginia, a place of 1,200 residents called Elkton. The railroad runs through Elkton, making it really a central part of downtown. So, in 6th grade I dated a girl who moved into town, and in fact she ended up living right across from the train tracks. The first few months she lived in Elkton she complained nearly every day of being so tired - the whistling train woke her in the middle of the night, every night. The first night she slept in her new home she thought there was an earthquake.

I and the rest of us veteran Elktonians rarely hear the train. We have gotten used to it. Likewise, I am rarely woken now by the adhan. One of the prayer times just happens to be at dawn (fajr), which can obviously be very early. I used to be woken all the time by this prayer, and just like her thinking there was an earthquake, my fantastical imagination had me believing that a new jihad was breaking out. Now that I'm acclimated to the strange hours, I can truly enjoy the ancient call when I do hear it.

Oftentimes I find myself too familiar with my life here, something which I never expected so easily. I go to the grocery store and I walk past ancient walls, I take shortcuts around medieval monasteries, the skyline is littered with Ottoman Empire mosques and minarets. No matter where you live, life can become quite normal.  Old hand.  I know a guy living in Kabul, Afghanistan, right now for a research group. I wonder if he has become regularized to that world?

The resonating Islamic call to prayer still brings me into another dimension, and yet also helps re-sharpen my focus on exactly where I live. Whenever I happen to hear it late at night, or on a walk home, or from my bedroom, my eyes are forced open and I remember just how amazing this place is. The wailing call pierces my routinized heart, flooding me with a bittersweet epiphany of how far I am from Elkton.  

I love Elkton, but Jerusalem is like walking on the moon - this place is otherworldly.

Last Word On Evangelical Christians

Now, I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression of my intention for posting pictures like this. I don't want you to think that I am judging, or as my father said, "making fun of anyone." Heaven forbid, honestly, that I of all people should judge another's religious beliefs. In my opinion, as long as your religion doesn't prescribe violence or any hindrance to another's religion, it is a faith that I can respect.

So, I post these images with interested anthropological intent. I grew up with signs like this dotting the landscape adjoining my familial home - and this sign is, indeed, just around the corner - and so I have earnestly divorced my own religious orientation from these messages. When I see something like this, a sign that directly speaks out against Jews and Judaism, or any unbeliever of Jesus, I do not feel anger, offense, or even a desire to mock in a natural act of self-defense. Rather, I see such a sign and think something along the lines of, 'What faith they must have! I wonder how they would react to me telling them about my beliefs?'

My other intent in posting this picture - and really, isn't it amazing that there are large areas of the United States where this sign is not even of particular irregularity? - is to really bring home just how large of a leap I have made from moving from the Shenandoah Valley to Jerusalem, Israel. As I have noted before, Jerusalem is packed full of religious billboards, signs, advertisements, and even full posters on the sides of buses. And as I have shown you in just a few pictures, the Shenandoah Valley, and particularly my little area of Rockingham County, is brimming with the same religious billboards, signs, advertisements, and posters.

Same message, different religion: Listen up, or you might get left behind.

Jerusalem Religiosity v. Virginia Religiosity

It goes without saying that Jerusalem is a religious city. Being the center of Judaism, being the spiritual navel of the religion and the nation, Jerusalem is steeped in an atmosphere of faith and ritual. A walk down a street in Israel's capital will reveal various posters of religious leaders, signs declaring religious beliefs, and all manner of posters and billboards for Jewish things.

What's humorous is that I left one religious area for another. I left the Bible Belt of America for the Torah Town of Israel (catchy, right?). I left a resoundingly evangelical Christian area for a resoundingly orthodox Jewish area. Sometimes I think it's my destiny to associate with overwhelming religiosity...

I took these pictures on the drive to my house from the airport on Tuesday. I grew up around these billboards, seeing signs like "Jesus is LORD!" and the such. So, it's not that I'm surprised to see them again, it's just an interesting and note-worthy sighting once you live in Israel for a long time. And, I should add that these are just the first two I saw - there are dozens of these things along the road, including a house with a quote from the Gospel of John emblazoned across the side.

I wonder what my European friends think about this? Comments?

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.