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.
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