Scents of Fes

Before arriving at our final destination, we stopped in Meknes, another imperial city, and another story of departure for the Jews. I believe the number still living there was at 6. We arrived in front of a former Yeshiva, where an old Jewish woman was sitting. We followed her inside and found a Synagogue. It looked like it could have been used yesterday, with tallitot and prayer books everywhere. Unfortunately, it had been about 40 years since services were held on a consistent basis...







PHOTOS OF MEKNES and FES

Making a Mark in Rabat

Approaching Rabat, the capital of Morocco, we prepared for a series of two special events and activities. We didn't get to really explore the city, but the following two stories make up for it:

PICTURES FROM RABAT

The Red City: Marrakesh

Out of the mountains, enter Marrakesh, the "Red City" of 2.3 million people, once of 36k Jews, now 240. Marrakesh has an outer new city, a Medina (old city), and a Mellah (from the Arabic and Hebrew word for salt; the Jewish Quarter from the 14th Century). There are two palaces for the King. The centrally located Koutoubia Mosque boasts the tallest structure in the city with its minaret. Once a library, the site now holds space for 22k worshipers. The above video describes the significance of the spheres at the top of the minaret.

PICTURES OF MARRAKESH

Telouet Traditions

After a short break to visit a Jewish cemetery and pick up lunch in Erfoud, we drove via Ouarzazate (the "Moroccan Hollywood" because of all the movie sets there) to a Berber village off the beaten path, called Telouet. If you click on the link, you can see the Wikipedia article only discusses the Kasbah, or palace, which we also visited. However, that was on Friday. Thursday we had to switch from busses to smaller vans just to get through the narrow streets along the mountainous terrain, but when we arrived, it was in time to witness a rhythmic song and percussion-filled custom among Berber tribes for welcoming others. Don't worry, it wasn't planned for us, but we did participate. The girls interspersed and some of the guys tried their hands at the drums.

PICTURES FROM TELOUET

Where It's Flat and Immense and the Heat is Intense

Well, not exactly Aladdin, especially because no one we saw would cut off my hand if they don't like my face, but I felt like Disney got its inspiration from this place called the Sahara. More driving driving driving took us to 4X4's took us to Merzouga took us to Auberge Timbouctou, a beautiful and somewhat kinky hotel 2km from from anything resembling a road. It was almost midnight when we lit the Hanukkia for the last time and ate dinner, but we woke up super early on Thursday and took off on one-humped camels called dromedaries into the dunes on the very edge of the desert. While it felt very touristy, being led by locals draped in heads-carves and jalabiyas, I could almost remove myself from everyone and feel totally absorbed in a dry and finely-powdered world of hills that wipe themselves of any mark of life. Some people sat on the edge of a cliff and watched the sun move the shadows. Some conversed with the locals. Some photographed every moment. But everyone was awestruck, and agreed that the experience was worth the hours and hours of driving.

PICTURES OF MERZOUGA, SAHARA

Luxuries and Necessities in Taroudant and Arazane

Riding through the country for hours makes one think of the villages passing by as well as the basic value of the road. The highway we were taking was apparently a relatively new project, and as a result, it enabled communities to travel, communicate, and transport goods with considerable ease. Imagine how much harder it would be to get to school without the right roads to get you there. In response to this move by the government, we passed signs spelled out with stones on hills, recognizing the King's loyalty and concern for the country. There is great approval for Muhammad VI (M6 for short).

PICTURES OF TAROUDANT
PICTURES OF ARAZANE

Along the way, we noticed a truck on the side of the road, with teenagers collectting what looked like thousands of tangerines that had fallen off. Kivunim usually participates in what it called "social responsibility," even at this time of day. It was a sight to see so many people picking up these little orange balls and dumping them in crates to be load back on the bus. Furthermore, while there were plenty of cameras, the Moroccans were not originally interested in our assistance, because they don't like their pictures being taken, out of religious of observance, or plain dignity.

After a full day of driving, we arrived in Taroudant, a city 130,00 people, no Jews, and a governer's palace turned Hotel Palais Salaam. This was a paradise with hundreds of rooms, incredible intricate designs, fountains, archways, colors and lookouts. Just look around as we lit the Hanukkah Candles for the 7th night.

The Old West: Casablanca's Majesties

(Morocco in Arabic means west.) With about 5 hours of sleep, we woke up to Monday morning in Casablanca, and departed for a day of Jewish sightseeing. There was a mad rush to get everyone on the bus in time for our appointment at a Jewish Day School, Neve Shalom. Two students overslept, there was traffic, hunger and fatigue, but when we arrived in the courtyard, and were ushered into a classroom of second graders, this blew me away: PICTURES OF CASABLANCA

A Transcontinental Celebration!

At 4:30 AM the birthday boy got out of bed for his final mid-east shower for a while. By 7 the buses were loaded for Morocco, and the day was ready to begin with a tour of the Temple Mount, Haram al-Shariff, Al-Aqsa. By extreme coincidence, the only entrance to the site for tourists is through the “Morocco Gate.” This could mean a few things, because Morocco in Arabic literally means “The West,” and the entrance is above the “Western Wall” and the western side of the platform. Additionally, though, there was once a Moroccan neighborhood in Jerusalem, right next to the Western Wall, that Israel destroyed after the Six-Day War in order to expand the Jewish Quarter and clean up the Western Wall Plaza.

A tour of the Temple Mount followed, led in separate groups by Ophir Yarden, a Jewish scholar and lecturer at Brigham Young University and Ali Qleibo, an artist/author/anthropologist and classical civilizations lecturer at Al-Quds University. I followed the latter group, and got a very art-history themed tour of the area. Nuances in architecture,stone, and time, were noted, and most interesting to me was when we entered a small area of the Western Wall for a short discussion about the layers of civilization present throughout the Old City. I don't believe I'll ever have the opportunity to get a tour of the Western Wall by a non-Jewish Arab.

Afterwards we walked through the Muslim quarter for a short while, and then returned to the hostel for a last go round of lunch. Then the buses took off for the airport, with me leading a spirited reading of "Oh the Places You'll Go," all on Blackberry.

The real fun began once we finished our struggle through airport security and took our seats waiting for the flight to Frankfurt. Out of nowhere, a bunch of students and Nicky, a madricha on the program, showed up with a McFlurry (cookies and cream!) filled with three lit Hanukkah candles (red, white, and blue) and the group sang Happy Birthday in at least three languages...It was a cute gesture, but I had no idea what was in store.

A Kindled Reflection on Organized Chaos

Who would know that I would be sitting in a middle-eastern hostel writing words at the stroke of my twenty-third birthday, packed for a 6am wake-up and a tour of the Temple Mount, followed by a flight to Morocco for ten days? I thought today about how far I've gone, and how much of a plan I didn't have to get me here. I had a wonderful wholesome Shabbat lunch at the Grossman family, friends of my favorite Hillel Director, and while his children rolled around the room, I realized that one of the others seated at the table was none other than Kobi, a tour guide from Cheltenham who guided me on my first visit to the Temple Mount, on Israel's election day two years ago!

Tonight as I watched the Hanukkah candles flicker, marking the fourth night, I contemplated the fascination of fire, and the desire to control it. Up north, forests are burning across the Carmel Mountains, leaving residents, many of which Druze, without water, electricity, or homes. The chaos has led to Israel's plea for international aid. Countries that spend much of their time bickering with Israel are now taking out her fires. The chaos comes closer when I think about where I'll be over the next 24 hours. Outside Al-Aqsa, lighting candles in Frankfurt while waiting for a transfer flight, and Casablanca. The chaos is imminent, but so are the memories. Happy Birthday!

Crazy Nights

Hanukkah as I've seen is influenced tremendously from other traditions, even here in Jerusalem. From the Christmas-like lights, to the American-like doughnuts, to the gift giving (Secret Santa, Mysterious Macabbee, however you want it), not a lot is original or foundational (then again, all of these dark wintertime holidays were probably borrowed from other earlier traditions). Nevertheless, there's something special and simple about walking the neighborhoods of Jerusalem by the light of the Hanukkiot left out on the doorsteps of peoples' houses. Wednesday night I walked the streets of Nachlaot, a group of neighborhoods I visited just three days ago. I then visited the posh shopping center of Mamilla, and the sufganiot they had to offer, until I arrived at the Jaffa Gate to the Old City and the neon Chanukkia there. I ended on the rooftop of the Mamillah hotel.

The next night a group visited Gabi the assistant director's house to make potato pancakes. Even the buses wish you a Happy Hanukkah. It will be a real site to see when these candles and holiday spirits take Kivunim to Morocco on Sunday... Pictures