Day 4/4 Family Weekend #2
While I said my goodbyes to Mom Saturday evening, Dad was still up for adventure, so we looked up a tour and headed Sunday to the checkpoint for access to the West Bank territories, to visit Bethlehem. We required our visas for entrance, and walked along the walls filled with graffiti in many languages, protesting the Israeli occupation. The pictures and video speak for themselves, but that was really the more impacting part of the day.
The whole affair of the day was rather disappointing, since our tour guide did not speak the best English and he didn't speak so much in general, all our stops were delayed without notice, and we didn't even visit one place on the itinerary, the Shepherd's Field, because it was Sunday. That's understandable, but we were told this on the way back to the wall.
We first went to the Milk Grotto,
then the Church of the Nativity, where Jesus was born, as well as where services are televised every year for Christmas,
and then we went to a wild gift shop with gifts of every kind and free شاي أخضر (green tea). In honor of the occasion of my visit, I include here a special performance I did with my friend DBC at the Good Shepherd Rehabilitation Ceneter in Allentown, for Christmas.
On the way back, Dad insisted on visiting Rachel's Tomb, located in the West Bank but accessible from the Israeli side. There wasn't much to see there, but I tried.
Overall, I felt like I was really in a Middle Eastern country in the West Bank. There was no Hebrew, Bethlehem had narrower winding than even Jerusalem. Unfortunately though, the other marker was the older taxis, and lower scale buildings. There's a seperate road from Jerusalem that goes to the Jewish Settlements in the West Bank, and the cab driver explained to Dad and I how difficult it is to get around. Even on our way back, an Arab Doctor from Hebron had to go through the equivalent of Customs to get through to ٲل-قدس (Jerusalem), while tourists can just wave their passports and go through. There was of course no security by the PA at the checkpoint.
This concluded four days of heavy traveling and touring, and I guess you can see by the brevity of my accounts that I'm absolutely exhausted. I have midterms week this week and then two weeks off for Passover where I'll be starting a four day hike in the Galilee on Friday, and then visiting Greece. But as far as 40 winks go, they only come during the day because I'm conviced I have giant papillary conjunctivitis again...
Exploration and education, nestled in the nook of a neighborhood bully.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Horses on the Beach, Greeks in the City
Day 2,3/4 Family Weekend #2
Five hours of sleep later, I found myself on a bus heading up to Michmoret, north of Netanya and south of Hadera, but along plenty of shoreline. There we spelled our names with weird objects (I won myself a chocolate bar) and rode horseback along the beach. How picaresque. On the way back we stopped at another beach, where I somehow managed to sit on tar and not notice it. So long pants.
I got back and spent one last weekend with my parents before. Being that it was my mom's last day, we took one more Shabbat walk to around the Center of Town, visiting the King David Hotel and admiring the unusual weather (warm and then ominous).
Saturday night, I went to the Euro Cup qualifying match between Israel and Greece at Ramat Gan Stadium, near Tel Aviv. The game went surprisingly fast because the clock doesn't stop as much in soccer, but the fans were the real treat. It was like an olympic game! Everyone was decked out in blue and white with flags on their backs like capes, hats with Jewish Stars, and even facepaint. Where were standing, the seats had no numbers, and everyone was standing on them anyway. The entire game, there was just about no sitting. Concessions included sunflower seeds hot dogs, and for the first time since arriving, I found something like fountain sodas. No alcohol, but lots of smoking, and lots of cheering. One side of the stadium would repsond to the other, repeating "ישראל נלחמה" meaning "Fight Israel" as well as Oleh! The game ended in a 1-1 tie, not good for Israel, but 'Nova made it the final four the next morning, and Israel's heading to Greece next week for a rematch!
Five hours of sleep later, I found myself on a bus heading up to Michmoret, north of Netanya and south of Hadera, but along plenty of shoreline. There we spelled our names with weird objects (I won myself a chocolate bar) and rode horseback along the beach. How picaresque. On the way back we stopped at another beach, where I somehow managed to sit on tar and not notice it. So long pants.
I got back and spent one last weekend with my parents before. Being that it was my mom's last day, we took one more Shabbat walk to around the Center of Town, visiting the King David Hotel and admiring the unusual weather (warm and then ominous).
Saturday night, I went to the Euro Cup qualifying match between Israel and Greece at Ramat Gan Stadium, near Tel Aviv. The game went surprisingly fast because the clock doesn't stop as much in soccer, but the fans were the real treat. It was like an olympic game! Everyone was decked out in blue and white with flags on their backs like capes, hats with Jewish Stars, and even facepaint. Where were standing, the seats had no numbers, and everyone was standing on them anyway. The entire game, there was just about no sitting. Concessions included sunflower seeds hot dogs, and for the first time since arriving, I found something like fountain sodas. No alcohol, but lots of smoking, and lots of cheering. One side of the stadium would repsond to the other, repeating "ישראל נלחמה" meaning "Fight Israel" as well as Oleh! The game ended in a 1-1 tie, not good for Israel, but 'Nova made it the final four the next morning, and Israel's heading to Greece next week for a rematch!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Desert Race
Day 1/4 Family Weekend #2
Thursday morning I skipped out of class to take my parents to the Judean Desert. While they intended on renting a car for the day, I saved them a lot through public transit. The cache though was that the busses never arrived at convenient times. So the day turned into a game of races- races through the Masada museum, documenting with artifacts the Roman palace turned rebel hideout turned monastery turned world famous archeological site; races up the mountain by cable car, around the mountain to the lookouts and remains, and down the mountain with 5th grade Israelis winding through the snake path;
races to the Ein Gedi Spa at the Dead Sea, where race took on a new meaning after climbing in tubs of mineral mud; races to the Dead Sea, where we floated in the waters for TWO MINUTES because the beach was closing; races to the last bus out of the spa to the Kibbutz, so that we wouldn't be stranded in the desert overnight; races to the final bus to Jerusalem, for the same reason.
We took lots of funny pictures and overall had a very enjoyable experience, as only the Blum's can (though still while missing Shoshboat).
Thursday morning I skipped out of class to take my parents to the Judean Desert. While they intended on renting a car for the day, I saved them a lot through public transit. The cache though was that the busses never arrived at convenient times. So the day turned into a game of races- races through the Masada museum, documenting with artifacts the Roman palace turned rebel hideout turned monastery turned world famous archeological site; races up the mountain by cable car, around the mountain to the lookouts and remains, and down the mountain with 5th grade Israelis winding through the snake path;
races to the Ein Gedi Spa at the Dead Sea, where race took on a new meaning after climbing in tubs of mineral mud; races to the Dead Sea, where we floated in the waters for TWO MINUTES because the beach was closing; races to the last bus out of the spa to the Kibbutz, so that we wouldn't be stranded in the desert overnight; races to the final bus to Jerusalem, for the same reason.
We took lots of funny pictures and overall had a very enjoyable experience, as only the Blum's can (though still while missing Shoshboat).
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Jerusalem the Segway
For a more upbeat conclusion to the weekend, Shoshi stayed in the States learning how to play Belle for her sr. high school show, while the parents and I took a Segway tour of the Peace Forest, overlooking the Old City, the surrounding valleys, the Dead Sea, Mt. Hebron, the Green Line, and a tour from Belgium. It was wild, and the videos I accumulated gave me a sense of reliving family videos of my childhood and scenes from a magical world where people float in the park.
Afterward, I visited the site where the oldest Hebrew Biblical text was found, the Priestly Blessing in an amulet, located in a collection of Tomb repositories from the 6th century BCE in the "shoulder of Hinnom". Next-door is the new Begin Heritage Center, which focuses on the life of the Prime Minister. I gave that a try, even though everything but the videos was in Hebrew, and the group consisted mostly of Israeli Soldiers.
On a final note, unless there are any surprises, you're now reading the blog of Muhlenberg's next President of Hillel, alongside Jason Steinberg.
Afterward, I visited the site where the oldest Hebrew Biblical text was found, the Priestly Blessing in an amulet, located in a collection of Tomb repositories from the 6th century BCE in the "shoulder of Hinnom". Next-door is the new Begin Heritage Center, which focuses on the life of the Prime Minister. I gave that a try, even though everything but the videos was in Hebrew, and the group consisted mostly of Israeli Soldiers.
On a final note, unless there are any surprises, you're now reading the blog of Muhlenberg's next President of Hillel, alongside Jason Steinberg.
Families Dispersed: Blum, Levin, Shalit
My Dad arrived last week, right after Purim. But the mother didn't arrive till this past Thursday. Within an hour of her arrival in Jerusalem, she was on the Temple Mount, reliving the Holy City Tour I went on. I pulled up all the pictures of the post it notes I wrote, and loaded them back on my camera. The problem was that I was denied entrance to the Temple Mount because I brought my laptop along for class. So while my parents shot photos, I got lost in the Muslim Quarter, one of my new hobbies. I found a new extension of the Shuk, and at the end of the indoor strip was surprised to get stopped by a soldier, that is, until I looked up and saw the golden Dome. I asked him for directions to the Kotel Katan, and after another few minutes of dark alleys, I found the site I was in search of. I called my parents and gave them a virtual tour of the Mount, and then they returned the favor and filmed a special message I prepared for the Muhlenberg Hillel Elections:
It took two takes, because in the first one these two Arab boys passed by shouting at each other. Then I directed my parents to the Via Delarosa and the Church of the Holy Redeemer, the one with the hundreds of steps to the top of a wonderful tower where they could see the entire city.
Friday, I met my parents at Mount Herzl Museum and Cemetery, where a new exhibit and video presentation narrated the influential life of the German diplomat responsible for assembling the World Zionist Congress and the idea of a Jewish State in Israel. Although he never saw his dream come true, he was re-interred in Jerusalem after the establishment of Israel, and is regarded as a visionary and hero.
Also on this mountain are the resting spots of national leaders, such as Prime Ministers, and soldiers. My parents and I made a few phone calls and found the location of Michael Levin, who is well known in America and Israel for serving in the Army and lost his life in the War with Hizbollah in the summer of 2006. Michael's path never crossed with mine, but on many occasions it could have. We come from the same area, both of us went on the same program in Israel during high school, just a few years apart. We also attended the same summer camp, and he had in fact visited right before leaving America for the last time. His grave was covered with possessions of value, such as amulets, Phillies memorabilia (he was a baseball fan) and stones. It was very powerful to see how alive his final resting place was.
Saturday, I led my mother on a walk around the Old City. This really meant that we got lost finding places, such as the room where some Christians say the Last Supper took place, the Dormition Abbey, the grave of Oskar Schindler, and the roof of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Getting lost meant that we found ourselves in abandoned forests, rooftops, and narrow but lengthy stretches of the Arab Market. It was a long walk, let's leave it at that.
Then came Saturday Night. One of the more pressing issues facing the Israeli government and community at this time is the fate of a young soldier captured in 2006, named Gilad Shalit. Projects demanding his return have been widespread throughout the country. The most interesting idea I've found is a in a story written by Gilad in 5th grade. His parents took the story, and Israeli artists iluustrated it with paintings and other works. It was then published. You can see by my pictures though that this weekend marked an unfortunate milestone, the 1000th day of captivity for this soldier, who is about my age. The walls are filled with signs, the TV and radio with ads, and the papers with letters by his parents, directed at the government, demanding his return.
The Prime Minister, who only has two weeks left in office, has been blamed for the failure of his return, and negotiations have been continuing with the recognized terrorist organization in possession of the soldier, Hamas. Hamas demands a large number of prisoners released by Israel, all in return for Gilad. So recently, his parents took up residence in a tent outside of the Prime Minister's residence, in the center of Jerusalem, one block away from my parents' rented apartment. Saturday night there was a special ceremony where an author spoke, Gilad's father spoke, and a country voiced its support for family, by protesting with the words "רוצים אותו בבית, רוצים אותו עכשיו" meaning "we want him home, we want him now." (The third video begins in the middle of Gilad's father's address.)
It took two takes, because in the first one these two Arab boys passed by shouting at each other. Then I directed my parents to the Via Delarosa and the Church of the Holy Redeemer, the one with the hundreds of steps to the top of a wonderful tower where they could see the entire city.
Friday, I met my parents at Mount Herzl Museum and Cemetery, where a new exhibit and video presentation narrated the influential life of the German diplomat responsible for assembling the World Zionist Congress and the idea of a Jewish State in Israel. Although he never saw his dream come true, he was re-interred in Jerusalem after the establishment of Israel, and is regarded as a visionary and hero.
Also on this mountain are the resting spots of national leaders, such as Prime Ministers, and soldiers. My parents and I made a few phone calls and found the location of Michael Levin, who is well known in America and Israel for serving in the Army and lost his life in the War with Hizbollah in the summer of 2006. Michael's path never crossed with mine, but on many occasions it could have. We come from the same area, both of us went on the same program in Israel during high school, just a few years apart. We also attended the same summer camp, and he had in fact visited right before leaving America for the last time. His grave was covered with possessions of value, such as amulets, Phillies memorabilia (he was a baseball fan) and stones. It was very powerful to see how alive his final resting place was.
Saturday, I led my mother on a walk around the Old City. This really meant that we got lost finding places, such as the room where some Christians say the Last Supper took place, the Dormition Abbey, the grave of Oskar Schindler, and the roof of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Getting lost meant that we found ourselves in abandoned forests, rooftops, and narrow but lengthy stretches of the Arab Market. It was a long walk, let's leave it at that.
Then came Saturday Night. One of the more pressing issues facing the Israeli government and community at this time is the fate of a young soldier captured in 2006, named Gilad Shalit. Projects demanding his return have been widespread throughout the country. The most interesting idea I've found is a in a story written by Gilad in 5th grade. His parents took the story, and Israeli artists iluustrated it with paintings and other works. It was then published. You can see by my pictures though that this weekend marked an unfortunate milestone, the 1000th day of captivity for this soldier, who is about my age. The walls are filled with signs, the TV and radio with ads, and the papers with letters by his parents, directed at the government, demanding his return.
The Prime Minister, who only has two weeks left in office, has been blamed for the failure of his return, and negotiations have been continuing with the recognized terrorist organization in possession of the soldier, Hamas. Hamas demands a large number of prisoners released by Israel, all in return for Gilad. So recently, his parents took up residence in a tent outside of the Prime Minister's residence, in the center of Jerusalem, one block away from my parents' rented apartment. Saturday night there was a special ceremony where an author spoke, Gilad's father spoke, and a country voiced its support for family, by protesting with the words "רוצים אותו בבית, רוצים אותו עכשיו" meaning "we want him home, we want him now." (The third video begins in the middle of Gilad's father's address.)
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Much Ado About Nothing
No stories this time, just two tokens of my romance with the land. The first is the blog that I've set up for my internship. It's still in the development stages, but I figure it wouldn't hurt to share...The second a photo montage of my second month here. Take it for the music if for nothing else.
Enjoy, and take it in full screen.
Enjoy, and take it in full screen.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Qumran Snapple!
"כל חוויה זה סויט שנגמר"
~ביטוי ישראלי
"Every experience is an end to a nightmare" ~Israeli expression
Not exactly a nightmare, but lots of experiences.
Snappling is the Hebrew word for rappelling, and that's exactly what I set out to do Friday morning in the Judean Desert, at the top of the Dead Sea, in a wadi that flows into the famous settlement of Qumran.
Our group left the Student Village at 6:30 knowing that there was a slight chance the rappelling would be canceled when we got there because there's always a danger of flash flooding at this time of season, and there was rain in the forecast for Jerusalem. We wouldn't know until 8, which is when we arrived. Thankfully, we got the go ahead, and go ahead we did.
A little on the location of the Qumran area: It lies in the Judean Desert, which is part of a rift whose plates are moving west very slowly. Across the Dead Sea, The mountains in Jordan are moving northeast quickly. This led to the wide-open space known in Hebrew as the Arava, where the Dead Sea is located. Historically, there were many cult communities and monasteries, because the area was right next to the road to Jerusalem, and there was great protection. The food may have been a problem, but the people who lived here often set out to create a new and more aesthetic life, meaning fasting...
We climbed up a mountain so as to get towards the top of a wadi. Remember wadis are paths in the rock where there are occasional water falls, and all the water from the desert flows into the Dead Sea. On the way up, we found the occasional pool of water, with the color of berry blue Jelly Bellys and the intense smell of sulfur. This was all that remained from the floods my bus drove over just two weeks before.
When we finally reached the top the rappelling leader informed us of some "good news" and some "very good news." The good news was that we were indeed going Snappling today. The very good news was that we would be landing in a big pool of water! Everybody put their cameras, wallets, and cell phones in one shared backpack, and then we got going. The process was pretty simple: Keep your feet spread while you walk vertically down the mountain, hold on to the rope in one hand, and don't look up in case rocks fall. The harder part was that this 35 meter first drop included an area where the rock moves in (it's called negative something). This meant that you had to just drop for a little bit, without holding onto anything! Tom Petty anyone? The other problem I had was that my harness was digging into my skinny hips the whole time. Eventually I got used to it.
The process, as you learned when you made it to the bottom, was to take off your shoes and socks and throw them as far as you could, so they wouldn't land in the mineral sulfur mud, or the pool of water. Then, you can either try real hard to climb around the pool, or just jump in and feel the smooth rich mud squelch between your toes, and then pull you in deeper like quicksand. When I got out, I dug a big hole in the mud to find the dark stuff, and rubbed it all over my arms and legs for a while. Being one of the first to go, I had a long time to eat lunch and dry my clothes.
The next drop was the shortest of the three, around 12 meters. The problem with this one was that there was very little room to sit after you did it. You were surrounded on both sides my water, and couldn't continue until the Snapple leaders took down the ropes and set up the next station.
This left the final station: about 50 meters down. Ay karamba. It was during this drop that the counselors realized we were not going to get back to campus by 3, like they had planned. We were going to be at least an hour late, thus fighting the Shabbat clock all the way home. People started to complain of cold and the sun was disappearing rapidly, so the rocks were losing their warmth. Again, I was one of the first down, and it was lucky I was, because I got a little more time to take pictures while I rappelled, and then explore the terrain at the bottom. While exploring, I found a long cave that went around the mountain, as well as seashells at the top of the slope. All the while, people were sleeping and sunbathing, trying to dry off, but while I climbed in my sneaker-turned puddle shoes, I could hear the rope leaders calling to the climbers as they dropped.
Six hours of hiking after we started, we arrived at the ruins off Qumran, where I grabbed some quick snapshots, and helped the counselors collect harnesses and helmets.
We got back two hours late, which meant that after my five minute shower, I would have to take a taxi to the City to meet my Dad for Shabbat Dinner. Dinner happened, as was fantastic with a sampling of steaks, beef cigars, sweet/sour chicken, apple-pomegranate juice, and family. I then slept nearly twelve hours, went to services as the Italian Synagogue, where they continue traditions based in Italy and nowhere else, and read out of the official Siddur of Rome, where everything was in Hebrew and Italian. More chilling out after that, and then a soup dinner at T'mol Shilshom, a bookstore restaurant based on the book by Shai Agnon, an Israeli Nobel Peace Prize winner.
That's all for now, but if you want a wrapped up review, stay tuned.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Mardi Gras (ou Mercredi Gras) dans la Terre Sainte d'Israël
Purim! Israel! A formula for madness of national proportion.
A few details of the holiday. It's not one commanded in the Torah. Therefore, there are no prohibitions against using cars and cameras. A real dream come true. Also, in almost the entire world, it took place this past Tuesday. However, in Jerusalem and Iran, where the story took place, the holiday is celebrated on Wednesday and called Shushan Purim, reminiscent of the walled cities of the time. To me, that means Mardi Gras spills over. Tuesday I went to a city south of Tel Aviv called Holon for an annual parade called Adloyada (English translation ). In Hebrew it's a group of three words bunched together, meaning "until you can't know," because one of the practices on Purim is to take certain measures to ensure you can't tell the difference between good guys and bad guys. The parade consisted of members of local schools, all sharing in the theme of water conservation and environmental awareness. I took a load of pictures , and put all the clips of video together for ya.
Then, Wednesday night, I went to an underground hole in the wall synagogue, where I heard the Scroll of Esther like never before. It was like listening to a Harry Potter audio book, where the reader would speak in different voices depending on the character. There was also this rule, that apparently is very serious, where you're supposed to hear every single word, otherwise you have to say it to yourself. Therefore, it was dead silent for the duration of the reading. I still took pictures and video.
Afterward, I went around town exploring the alleyways where people were dancing and drinking and drinking and dancing. I even found my first waffles in Israel, covered in hot chocolate sauce. Then Wednesday, I went into the Old City, where there were costume competitions for children, Israeli soldiers dancing, and more drinking. It all wrapped up with meeting up with my dad who had just arrived (he missed a good day of partying). He's living in the Center of town for a few weeks, and already has a long list of activities planned.
Overall, not much needs to be told. See for yourself. Just know that it's something special to spend two days in a country where everybody wishes you happy holidays and hugs you, and the families spare no expenses on costumes for themselves and their children. The weather was perfect, so everything seemed brighter. The Shuk had a more distinctive aroma of spices and leather, and the rhythms of the drums on the street corners carried past the dance circles, only until it was blown away by the blasts of firecrackers at night. I thought a lot about how it compared to the Phillies Championship Parade I attended, interestingly, last Halloween.
A few details of the holiday. It's not one commanded in the Torah. Therefore, there are no prohibitions against using cars and cameras. A real dream come true. Also, in almost the entire world, it took place this past Tuesday. However, in Jerusalem and Iran, where the story took place, the holiday is celebrated on Wednesday and called Shushan Purim, reminiscent of the walled cities of the time. To me, that means Mardi Gras spills over. Tuesday I went to a city south of Tel Aviv called Holon for an annual parade called Adloyada (English translation ). In Hebrew it's a group of three words bunched together, meaning "until you can't know," because one of the practices on Purim is to take certain measures to ensure you can't tell the difference between good guys and bad guys. The parade consisted of members of local schools, all sharing in the theme of water conservation and environmental awareness. I took a load of pictures , and put all the clips of video together for ya.
Then, Wednesday night, I went to an underground hole in the wall synagogue, where I heard the Scroll of Esther like never before. It was like listening to a Harry Potter audio book, where the reader would speak in different voices depending on the character. There was also this rule, that apparently is very serious, where you're supposed to hear every single word, otherwise you have to say it to yourself. Therefore, it was dead silent for the duration of the reading. I still took pictures and video.
Afterward, I went around town exploring the alleyways where people were dancing and drinking and drinking and dancing. I even found my first waffles in Israel, covered in hot chocolate sauce. Then Wednesday, I went into the Old City, where there were costume competitions for children, Israeli soldiers dancing, and more drinking. It all wrapped up with meeting up with my dad who had just arrived (he missed a good day of partying). He's living in the Center of town for a few weeks, and already has a long list of activities planned.
Overall, not much needs to be told. See for yourself. Just know that it's something special to spend two days in a country where everybody wishes you happy holidays and hugs you, and the families spare no expenses on costumes for themselves and their children. The weather was perfect, so everything seemed brighter. The Shuk had a more distinctive aroma of spices and leather, and the rhythms of the drums on the street corners carried past the dance circles, only until it was blown away by the blasts of firecrackers at night. I thought a lot about how it compared to the Phillies Championship Parade I attended, interestingly, last Halloween.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
OD on G? Part 2
There's too much to tell, especially because of the weekend's events. So here we go in organized fashion:
4. This weekend Jason and I decided we'd give spirituality and religious observance a stab for Shabbat. We turned to the Galilee mountain-top city of Tzfat (Safed). The city's claim to fame is Kabbalah, Jewish Mysticism, which developed considerably there. Nowadays, the city if occupied mostly by a collection of Hasidic Jews. We stayed, without knowing, in the hub of the Chabad Lubavitch Neighborhood. So many specific things took place that Jason and I wrote down before the weekend was out. It started with the very name of the hostel, Ascent. We had to "ascend" uphill from Ascent to the Tel Aviv hotel because there was no place to sleep. The hostel had a deal with the hotel, but we didn't find out until Saturday night that we would have to find another place to stay for the second night. How nice of them to inform us. After we found our room, we met our two Israeli room-mates. One was a 35 year old guy who works at a winery, named Elijah (Eliyahu). The other was a Mizrachi (of eastern descent) Jew who may have been younger. Already, I was little uncomfortable, not with who these guys were, because they were very nice, but that there were these men on their own here for Shabbat, with no families and no real futures in mind. Later on we would meet a British dude named Marvin who was certainly in his fifties. We arrived Friday afternoon, and had just enough time to get to the Ari Mikvah, named after Issac Luria . Make of it what you wish. It was cold but relaxing. I wouldn't say it changed my outlook on the universe though, no more than a date with Israeli mosquitoes and lots of grave stones normally would.
The way Friday night worked was that after services there was a walk to the dinner hosts. I had no idea what was in store, but to divert my attention, I had a conversation with Jason and one of the counselors (really just Chabad guys) about what classes we were taking. Jason said history, and the guy told a story about a man in the time of the Temple in Jerusalem who never visited it until he was 70. When he walked in, he was shocked to find Priests slaughtering animals. He thought "this is what I was missing? How cruel!" The Chabad guy continued to say that it wasn't important what was on the outside, but what was on the inside that mattered-basically that this was the holiest site to the Jewish people. My take of it was "wow, was vegetarianism and animal protection really widespread in antiquity? I had no idea." Unfortunately, nobody would ever have that view about the activities of the Temple in that time period. Anyway, the Lubavitcher was 0 for 1, and then he asked me what I was studying. I said religions, because that's the Hebrew translation and nobody understands religion studies in Israel. He asked which, so I said Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He responded "Christianity sounds like a really dark religion, no?"
PAUSE
We were at a beautiful lookout, and because it was Shabbat I couldn't publicly photograph it, and Sunday morning it was very foggy, but on normal days you can see the Sea of Galilee, or Kinneret, exactly like this.
RESUME
I considered for a moment running away down the mountain to the Kinneret, because I couldn't believe how horrible a job this guy was doing of conducting an intelligent conversation. If anything, the numerous fasts, millennia of suffering, and kreplach would effectively categorize Judaism as the supreme dark religion. But, as I continued to do so very often this weekend, I shut my mouth and thought about food.
The host family's name was Urgad. While we waited for the master of the house to arrive, Jason explored the nine pictures of the former Chief Rabbi of the Lebavitcher Hasidim (whom they publicize all over the country and world as the Messiah) and all two pictures of the family, I got marsed by a thirteen year old in Backgammon. Dinner was fantastic, with three courses and an hour of conversation separating each. I learned a new tune (niggun) for a Purim song, and sat through a long speech by the head of the table about this weeks Torah Portion. Myself, Jason, and middle-aged Marvin sat through a lot of Hebrew that night, but we were well rewarded.
Saturday was very relaxed with a tour of the Old City of Tzfat, and another memorable meal! Each of the Chabad speakers had very exciting childhoods, which always bothered me as to why they gave it up to preach the coming of the Messiah 24/7. One had already recounted a mystical religious experience he had had while in the presence of the holy Hendrix at Woodstock. This time, a younger guy talked about his childhood days at Space Camp. Now I thought this was going to be great, and it was for a while, until...
(paraphrastically quoting) "NASA once had the idea of sending people to the closest star to Earth to see what it was like. Now the closest star was really the Sun, and they weren't going to send anyone there because of the heat, so they picked the next closest star (I forget the name, it's not important). There was a long discussion about what the dangers and problems of the mission would be. One very obvious problem was that it would take about 8 generations to get to the star, so a group of families would have to be picked and come the eighth generation of that group, they would land on the star. Interestingly, that problem wasn't what nicked the mission. Instead, it was seat-belts. NASA was afraid that by the eight generation nobody on the ship would believe in gravity, and when the ship would finally land, the mission would fail because nobody buckled their seat-belts and they would drift away. I have a solution! Give each family a different role, such as controlling the ship, waste, etc. but make one family's job to remember that there is gravity during landing to make sure everyone buckles up. This is our job here too, right now! We have to make sure everyone buckles up because Moshiach (Messiah) is coming and we have to be ready...
What an ending. Next on the list of unusual experiences was our afternoon card game of Rummy. The game was fine, me beating Jason, all going well. Then, from up above (one story precisely) a group of girls came down the steps and swarmed us, taking our cards and playing Milchama (War). Yes, about 5 little girls, probably as young as four and no older than seven took our cards, sat at our table and played War, while one of their YOUNGER brothers played peek a boo and spat on me, also, from a story up. I'm telling you, it was the life. About once every five minutes I broke down laughing, wondering where on earth these children's parents were.
Saturday night Jason and I walked through town and checked out the costume shops, where everyone was buying last minute items for Purim, which starts Monday night. There was also a big party of Hasids dancing in circles waving flags of the Schneerson Messiah Rabbi guy, whose face I later photographed on a rug.
Sunday, Jason and I went once more to the Ari Mikvah, walked through the Artist's Colony, an Arab Shuk turned outdoor art market, and then took the next bus back to Jerusalem. The last event I note from the trip took place at a gas station, where someone confronted me about wearing a shirt that says "It's a Mitzvah to...every Friday Night. Shabbat Shalom, Muhlenberg Hillel." He made sure I understood it, and then asked me why I would support such an inappropriate display. I thought about how I had worn the shirt at the Ascent Hostel and gotten no feedback. I later wondered how much this guy knew about American Jewry, secular education, or just fun in general. I provided no response, because I was done conversing with the "Tzfat Kabbalists." I was just all smiles.*
*This took 2 1/2 hours to write. I hope it makes sense and wasn't too apophatic. I dedicate it to Adonainu Rabeinu Moreinu Hartley Lachter, Ph.D. May he appreciate the Mikvah Ari water I ordered forever and ever.
1. Classes
2. Internship numero uno
3. Idan Raichel Concert
4. Weekend in Tzfat
4. This weekend Jason and I decided we'd give spirituality and religious observance a stab for Shabbat. We turned to the Galilee mountain-top city of Tzfat (Safed). The city's claim to fame is Kabbalah, Jewish Mysticism, which developed considerably there. Nowadays, the city if occupied mostly by a collection of Hasidic Jews. We stayed, without knowing, in the hub of the Chabad Lubavitch Neighborhood. So many specific things took place that Jason and I wrote down before the weekend was out. It started with the very name of the hostel, Ascent. We had to "ascend" uphill from Ascent to the Tel Aviv hotel because there was no place to sleep. The hostel had a deal with the hotel, but we didn't find out until Saturday night that we would have to find another place to stay for the second night. How nice of them to inform us. After we found our room, we met our two Israeli room-mates. One was a 35 year old guy who works at a winery, named Elijah (Eliyahu). The other was a Mizrachi (of eastern descent) Jew who may have been younger. Already, I was little uncomfortable, not with who these guys were, because they were very nice, but that there were these men on their own here for Shabbat, with no families and no real futures in mind. Later on we would meet a British dude named Marvin who was certainly in his fifties. We arrived Friday afternoon, and had just enough time to get to the Ari Mikvah, named after Issac Luria . Make of it what you wish. It was cold but relaxing. I wouldn't say it changed my outlook on the universe though, no more than a date with Israeli mosquitoes and lots of grave stones normally would.
The way Friday night worked was that after services there was a walk to the dinner hosts. I had no idea what was in store, but to divert my attention, I had a conversation with Jason and one of the counselors (really just Chabad guys) about what classes we were taking. Jason said history, and the guy told a story about a man in the time of the Temple in Jerusalem who never visited it until he was 70. When he walked in, he was shocked to find Priests slaughtering animals. He thought "this is what I was missing? How cruel!" The Chabad guy continued to say that it wasn't important what was on the outside, but what was on the inside that mattered-basically that this was the holiest site to the Jewish people. My take of it was "wow, was vegetarianism and animal protection really widespread in antiquity? I had no idea." Unfortunately, nobody would ever have that view about the activities of the Temple in that time period. Anyway, the Lubavitcher was 0 for 1, and then he asked me what I was studying. I said religions, because that's the Hebrew translation and nobody understands religion studies in Israel. He asked which, so I said Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He responded "Christianity sounds like a really dark religion, no?"
PAUSE
We were at a beautiful lookout, and because it was Shabbat I couldn't publicly photograph it, and Sunday morning it was very foggy, but on normal days you can see the Sea of Galilee, or Kinneret, exactly like this.
RESUME
I considered for a moment running away down the mountain to the Kinneret, because I couldn't believe how horrible a job this guy was doing of conducting an intelligent conversation. If anything, the numerous fasts, millennia of suffering, and kreplach would effectively categorize Judaism as the supreme dark religion. But, as I continued to do so very often this weekend, I shut my mouth and thought about food.
The host family's name was Urgad. While we waited for the master of the house to arrive, Jason explored the nine pictures of the former Chief Rabbi of the Lebavitcher Hasidim (whom they publicize all over the country and world as the Messiah) and all two pictures of the family, I got marsed by a thirteen year old in Backgammon. Dinner was fantastic, with three courses and an hour of conversation separating each. I learned a new tune (niggun) for a Purim song, and sat through a long speech by the head of the table about this weeks Torah Portion. Myself, Jason, and middle-aged Marvin sat through a lot of Hebrew that night, but we were well rewarded.
Saturday was very relaxed with a tour of the Old City of Tzfat, and another memorable meal! Each of the Chabad speakers had very exciting childhoods, which always bothered me as to why they gave it up to preach the coming of the Messiah 24/7. One had already recounted a mystical religious experience he had had while in the presence of the holy Hendrix at Woodstock. This time, a younger guy talked about his childhood days at Space Camp. Now I thought this was going to be great, and it was for a while, until...
(paraphrastically quoting) "NASA once had the idea of sending people to the closest star to Earth to see what it was like. Now the closest star was really the Sun, and they weren't going to send anyone there because of the heat, so they picked the next closest star (I forget the name, it's not important). There was a long discussion about what the dangers and problems of the mission would be. One very obvious problem was that it would take about 8 generations to get to the star, so a group of families would have to be picked and come the eighth generation of that group, they would land on the star. Interestingly, that problem wasn't what nicked the mission. Instead, it was seat-belts. NASA was afraid that by the eight generation nobody on the ship would believe in gravity, and when the ship would finally land, the mission would fail because nobody buckled their seat-belts and they would drift away. I have a solution! Give each family a different role, such as controlling the ship, waste, etc. but make one family's job to remember that there is gravity during landing to make sure everyone buckles up. This is our job here too, right now! We have to make sure everyone buckles up because Moshiach (Messiah) is coming and we have to be ready...
What an ending. Next on the list of unusual experiences was our afternoon card game of Rummy. The game was fine, me beating Jason, all going well. Then, from up above (one story precisely) a group of girls came down the steps and swarmed us, taking our cards and playing Milchama (War). Yes, about 5 little girls, probably as young as four and no older than seven took our cards, sat at our table and played War, while one of their YOUNGER brothers played peek a boo and spat on me, also, from a story up. I'm telling you, it was the life. About once every five minutes I broke down laughing, wondering where on earth these children's parents were.
Saturday night Jason and I walked through town and checked out the costume shops, where everyone was buying last minute items for Purim, which starts Monday night. There was also a big party of Hasids dancing in circles waving flags of the Schneerson Messiah Rabbi guy, whose face I later photographed on a rug.
Sunday, Jason and I went once more to the Ari Mikvah, walked through the Artist's Colony, an Arab Shuk turned outdoor art market, and then took the next bus back to Jerusalem. The last event I note from the trip took place at a gas station, where someone confronted me about wearing a shirt that says "It's a Mitzvah to...every Friday Night. Shabbat Shalom, Muhlenberg Hillel." He made sure I understood it, and then asked me why I would support such an inappropriate display. I thought about how I had worn the shirt at the Ascent Hostel and gotten no feedback. I later wondered how much this guy knew about American Jewry, secular education, or just fun in general. I provided no response, because I was done conversing with the "Tzfat Kabbalists." I was just all smiles.*
*This took 2 1/2 hours to write. I hope it makes sense and wasn't too apophatic. I dedicate it to Adonainu Rabeinu Moreinu Hartley Lachter, Ph.D. May he appreciate the Mikvah Ari water I ordered forever and ever.
OD on G? Part 1
There's too much to tell, especially because of the weekend's events. So here we go in organized fashion:
I apologize for the upcoming length, but I hope it's worth your while. Sip by the spoonful...
1. In the middle of last week I took the level placement exam in Hebrew and passed (65 and up). This means two things: I jumped two levels in Hebrew Ulpan since I got here, and I no longer have to take a class that teaches Hebrew. Instead, I have to take classes taught in Hebrew. What's more is I have to take an additional class because I get less credit now that I'm in level 5. My schedule was already full, so rather than going for a more interesting class taught in English (I signed up for a Holocaust class for approx. 20 minutes), I registered for two classes taught in Hebrew: One on children's literature and one on Israeli settlements. I'm two weeks behind already, classes are canceled Tuesday and Wednesday because of Purim. I just came back from the supermarket where I was reading a children's book about a little louse named Nechama who travels the world via the scalp, and did not appreciate the awkward glances. The new roster stands thus:
-Archaeology of Jerusalem
-Colloquial Urban Jerusalem Arabic
-Hebrew: Children's Lit.
-Hebrew: Israeli Settlements (w. field trips!!)
-JESNA Lainer Jewish Education & Internship
2 The first of my internship outings with the Ethiopian National Project was to a religious neighborhood outside of Jerusalem Known as Bet Shemesh (House of the Sun, almost the Dylan song, bummer). I was planning to meet with a field supervisor who was Ethiopian, possibly learn some Amharic (native Ethiopian tongue) and record conversations of stories with the children of the community, so that I could preserve the experiences on a blog I'm creating for the Project. The plan took this shape instead: I sat through a 2 1/2 hour Amharic Assembly where community leaders discussed the programs offered to children (Scholastic assistance, etc.) as well as a health lecture by a Doctor. That means that for 2 1/2 hours, I knew about 2% of what was going on. What I did know was translated into Hebrew for me by one of the supervisors(Gash'on), or discerned through rational intellect, like the Doctor's Powerpoint slide of a lice diagram, also in Amharic. The one word I learned was "Gash" which means mister, because there were a lot of introductions. I also observed the parents who attended the program. They were perpetuating much of their culture, like the clothing, as well as the tattoos some had on their faces and arms. More details will be included in my blog entry for the Project, and I'll include the link as soon as it's up and running.
3. One activity I had been looking forward to since before I arrived here was to attend a concert by the Idan Raichel Project . This guy Idan is a musician like no other. He creates albums with artists from around the globe, in loads of different languages (often with more than one language in each song), and with a variety of instruments. When I studied here in 11th Grade I was introduced to his music, which is extremely popular here. On the last day of my five-month stay, his second album came out, and I listened to it on the flight home. Then, just a few months ago, his third album was released, so I listened to that on the flight back to Israel. He writes the lyrics and melodies, sometimes with help from other artists, sometimes based on Biblical passages. Lots of American college students know about him because he arranges performances with Masa, an organization that provides scholarships for students who do programs in Israel. I was going to see him regardless, but it turned out that there was a concert with Masa (at a lower price than his normal performances) being held at the Jerusalem Convention Center. The event took place last Thursday night. There must have been at least a thousand Jewish college students there- just about too much for me to handle. I was blessed not have recognized anyone, because it unfortunately looked like I was the only one who turned out for the concert. It was really loud the entire time, and people were tossing balloons around, but overall it was worth it. There were always ten or eleven people on stage playing all different kinds of instruments or singing, and they really had a great dynamic with Idan the Keyboardist.
1. Classes
2. Internship numero uno
3. Idan Raichel Concert
4. Weekend in Tzfat
4. Weekend in Tzfat
I apologize for the upcoming length, but I hope it's worth your while. Sip by the spoonful...
1. In the middle of last week I took the level placement exam in Hebrew and passed (65 and up). This means two things: I jumped two levels in Hebrew Ulpan since I got here, and I no longer have to take a class that teaches Hebrew. Instead, I have to take classes taught in Hebrew. What's more is I have to take an additional class because I get less credit now that I'm in level 5. My schedule was already full, so rather than going for a more interesting class taught in English (I signed up for a Holocaust class for approx. 20 minutes), I registered for two classes taught in Hebrew: One on children's literature and one on Israeli settlements. I'm two weeks behind already, classes are canceled Tuesday and Wednesday because of Purim. I just came back from the supermarket where I was reading a children's book about a little louse named Nechama who travels the world via the scalp, and did not appreciate the awkward glances. The new roster stands thus:
-Archaeology of Jerusalem
-Colloquial Urban Jerusalem Arabic
-Hebrew: Children's Lit.
-Hebrew: Israeli Settlements (w. field trips!!)
-JESNA Lainer Jewish Education & Internship
2 The first of my internship outings with the Ethiopian National Project was to a religious neighborhood outside of Jerusalem Known as Bet Shemesh (House of the Sun, almost the Dylan song, bummer). I was planning to meet with a field supervisor who was Ethiopian, possibly learn some Amharic (native Ethiopian tongue) and record conversations of stories with the children of the community, so that I could preserve the experiences on a blog I'm creating for the Project. The plan took this shape instead: I sat through a 2 1/2 hour Amharic Assembly where community leaders discussed the programs offered to children (Scholastic assistance, etc.) as well as a health lecture by a Doctor. That means that for 2 1/2 hours, I knew about 2% of what was going on. What I did know was translated into Hebrew for me by one of the supervisors(Gash'on), or discerned through rational intellect, like the Doctor's Powerpoint slide of a lice diagram, also in Amharic. The one word I learned was "Gash" which means mister, because there were a lot of introductions. I also observed the parents who attended the program. They were perpetuating much of their culture, like the clothing, as well as the tattoos some had on their faces and arms. More details will be included in my blog entry for the Project, and I'll include the link as soon as it's up and running.
3. One activity I had been looking forward to since before I arrived here was to attend a concert by the Idan Raichel Project . This guy Idan is a musician like no other. He creates albums with artists from around the globe, in loads of different languages (often with more than one language in each song), and with a variety of instruments. When I studied here in 11th Grade I was introduced to his music, which is extremely popular here. On the last day of my five-month stay, his second album came out, and I listened to it on the flight home. Then, just a few months ago, his third album was released, so I listened to that on the flight back to Israel. He writes the lyrics and melodies, sometimes with help from other artists, sometimes based on Biblical passages. Lots of American college students know about him because he arranges performances with Masa, an organization that provides scholarships for students who do programs in Israel. I was going to see him regardless, but it turned out that there was a concert with Masa (at a lower price than his normal performances) being held at the Jerusalem Convention Center. The event took place last Thursday night. There must have been at least a thousand Jewish college students there- just about too much for me to handle. I was blessed not have recognized anyone, because it unfortunately looked like I was the only one who turned out for the concert. It was really loud the entire time, and people were tossing balloons around, but overall it was worth it. There were always ten or eleven people on stage playing all different kinds of instruments or singing, and they really had a great dynamic with Idan the Keyboardist.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Dolphin Spit: It's Always Sunny in Eilat
Update on classes: Right now, the list stands thus, but it's subject to change without notice:
Archaeology of Jerusalem- our first field trip, to the City of David, is tomorrow.
Colloquial Arabic- after learning the letters for 2 years at Muhlenberg, I had hoped I could go further, but none of the professors think I know enough to study Modern Standard Arabic independently with a tutor, so I'm here in Colloquial where I'll learn basic conversation in the urban Jerusalem dialect, but here's the stumper: everything is written in English.
Hebrew- Just like before, so this past week of "Ulpan continued," we learned everything we had learned over the past month, again! I'm working on a way out...
Colloquial Arabic- after learning the letters for 2 years at Muhlenberg, I had hoped I could go further, but none of the professors think I know enough to study Modern Standard Arabic independently with a tutor, so I'm here in Colloquial where I'll learn basic conversation in the urban Jerusalem dialect, but here's the stumper: everything is written in English.
Hebrew- Just like before, so this past week of "Ulpan continued," we learned everything we had learned over the past month, again! I'm working on a way out...
JESNA Interns- Here is something different. I have a class that discusses/explores/etc. Jewish education in America and Israel, but I also have an internship of my own. Late last week I met with the Ethiopian National Project , a non profit grassroots organization that works to create programs for Ethiopian immigrants, including scholastic, crime prevention, parent programs, and others. So where am I in this process? As of now, I'll be traveling each week to communities around the country, interviewing residents for their stories, learning Amharic, taking pictures, and recording my experiences on a blog on their website! My first visit is Wednesday in Beit Shemesh, located right outside of Jerusalem.
That was this week. Now, for the second consecutive weekend, rain was in the forecast, so once again, I tried to escape it. Assuming that my very basic knowledge of the environment is accurate, rain almost never falls in deserts, right? Wrong! I'll get to that later, but basically I chose simply stunning southern seaside city of Eilat , for its beautiful beaches, summer-like weather, and amazing views of the mountains of Jordan, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia.
Now the details become a little strange. I took a 7am bus Friday morning from Jerusalem to Eilat, and on the way down, through the Negev desert, I couldn't help but notice, while I sat next to an old man who looked like Frank Meisler , that it was strange to be spotting a few puddles in this area. How interesting, I thought, and fell back to sleep...
Arriving in Eilat, I found my place of residence- a bungalow in the backyard of some Eilat resident named Aharon- faster than the rest of the group that I was staying with (mostly counselors from my summer camp). I must point out that this weekend I watched easily fifteen episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," a Seinfeld-style sitcom of a gang at a bar that always ruins it for everybody else. Very funny. At night was a cookout, in the calming confines of Aharon's backyard...
But the highlight of Eilat was Saturday. My old JC from Camp, Ben Kurland, and I went on a date swimming with the dolphins, and I say date, because one of the rules of our snorkeling adventure at Dolphin Reef was that we had to hold hands. It was a great ride, because the corral reefs were right under us, we could play underwater catch with the jellyfish, and dolphins came right up to us. Even afterwards, one of them spat on me through his/her air hole (sorta like that scene in Jurassic Park, but not sick and not severe). I felt very relaxed once I had overcome my fear of breathing under water.
The last adventure of this weekend was the ride home. Remember when I considered Eilat because it was a desert city and desert cities don't get rain? Well I found this headline on JPost.com when I arrived back in Jerusalem:
"1/3/09 8:27 Highway 90 was closed to traffic near Ein Gedi on Sunday morning due to flooding in the area. Drivers were advised to avoid the area and use alternate routes."
That was this week. Now, for the second consecutive weekend, rain was in the forecast, so once again, I tried to escape it. Assuming that my very basic knowledge of the environment is accurate, rain almost never falls in deserts, right? Wrong! I'll get to that later, but basically I chose simply stunning southern seaside city of Eilat , for its beautiful beaches, summer-like weather, and amazing views of the mountains of Jordan, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia.
Now the details become a little strange. I took a 7am bus Friday morning from Jerusalem to Eilat, and on the way down, through the Negev desert, I couldn't help but notice, while I sat next to an old man who looked like Frank Meisler , that it was strange to be spotting a few puddles in this area. How interesting, I thought, and fell back to sleep...
Arriving in Eilat, I found my place of residence- a bungalow in the backyard of some Eilat resident named Aharon- faster than the rest of the group that I was staying with (mostly counselors from my summer camp). I must point out that this weekend I watched easily fifteen episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," a Seinfeld-style sitcom of a gang at a bar that always ruins it for everybody else. Very funny. At night was a cookout, in the calming confines of Aharon's backyard...
But the highlight of Eilat was Saturday. My old JC from Camp, Ben Kurland, and I went on a date swimming with the dolphins, and I say date, because one of the rules of our snorkeling adventure at Dolphin Reef was that we had to hold hands. It was a great ride, because the corral reefs were right under us, we could play underwater catch with the jellyfish, and dolphins came right up to us. Even afterwards, one of them spat on me through his/her air hole (sorta like that scene in Jurassic Park, but not sick and not severe). I felt very relaxed once I had overcome my fear of breathing under water.
The last adventure of this weekend was the ride home. Remember when I considered Eilat because it was a desert city and desert cities don't get rain? Well I found this headline on JPost.com when I arrived back in Jerusalem:
"1/3/09 8:27 Highway 90 was closed to traffic near Ein Gedi on Sunday morning due to flooding in the area. Drivers were advised to avoid the area and use alternate routes."
I wish I had known that before I took a five hour bus ride on Highway 90. Our bus driver was some kind of hero for taking us over at least three completely flooded crossings. In the desert, when it rains, there's always a flash flood warning, because the wadis come to life, and that's exactly what happened. There were tens of cars of the side of the road and people taking pictures on both sides of the floods. Unfortunately my camera battery died at Dolphin Reef, so I present to you the fantastic photographic genius of Ben Kurland (Ben's camera was injured during the flood, but once recovered, it yielded sights of desert splendor!)
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