Whe a Roma... di Pasqua

Previously in Ira's life: My world revolves around trains and busses. The first Passover food  had, which was before the Seder, was a hotdog, in a bun, with a fries and a drink. It was all kosher, don't worry Dad...
The Passover Seder concludes with "Next year in Jerusalem." The next night, I was on the one public bus (and bullet proof at that) back to Jerusalem. BUT only for an hour, to gather my things, pack my suitcase worth of clothes and homework into a backpack that didn't belong to me, and head off to the airport.

The airport food got worse as I got further away. On the flight to Istanbul, the meal was matzoh with butter and fresh jam, and fish, but from Istanbul I got the French edition, a non-kosher for Passover Kosher can of ratatouille and fruit. I got by with the free gumballs I got at Ben Gurion airport from the Pelephone company. I barely slept though, so by the time I got to Rome, I was ready to sleepwalk to Piazza Bologna, where I was to be staying.

First observations in Rome were that graffiti was absolutely everywhere, and on everything. Whole trains were filled with the stuff, and the buildings had some too, but not as much. I followed the directions given by the Home in Rome, where I was staying, and before I had arrived, I knew the metro system. The Home was incredible! Huge room with two beds, nice views, TV, wi-fi, and best of all, free Kosher for Passover breakfast each morning!

The first place I went to was the Colosseum, because there were two other guys staying in the same place (from Israel and from the States but studying in Israel). Unfortunately, it was closed due to an evening appearance by the Pope. We walked around the area, looking at the Arches of Constantine and Titus, which the American reminded me Jews are forbidden from crossing under, and then we came back, and got ready for Shabbat. There is a very large Libyan Jewish populations in Rome, so I went to services at one of their synagogues, where I met the Chabad Rabbi. I had arranged through him to have a place for dinner, and he originally invited me to his place, but the other two guys were invited by one of the members, so I went with them. This guy had been in Israel for a little while, so he spoke Hebrew and Italian, and his kids spoke Hebrew too, except for his son who was the youngest and spoke English and Italian. So most of the meal, which consisted on tongues and chicken, was conducted in Hebrew. He also showed me some nifty Haggadot, some of which included Arabic versions of songs like Dayenu, but written in Hebrew.

Before I continue, I want to remind you that I am alone so far. I flew solo to Italy, in order to arrive before the group I was to meet, because they were flying out on Shabbat. I also had brought both my cellphones, but with no intention of using them.

Through Facebook, I arranged to meet with the group a the Trevi Fountain on Saturday at 12:30. I got there 15 minutes late, and it was packed, but I found them! They are Sarah, Caitlin, Jaime, and Carly, and we headed together back to the Colosseum, by way of some very cool graffiti artistry, and lots of National signs, which, as Sarah pointed out, are spelled Nazi Zion.

Following the canon of Sarah's Lonely Planet tour guide book, we walked through the Colosseum, and back through the this time open ruins. Of course I stood under the Arch of Titus. He's not here anymore and has no forwarding address. In addition, it appears that the arch was made by his successor, and therefore not a direct symbol of the victory in Jerusalem. We headed back to  the Colosseum, where Carly had apparently made a vomit trail around the complex, due to over-exhaustion. So they headed back to their hostel, and I met them for dinner. We found a place across the street with vegetarian and gluten free options, so I got some weird tasteless dish called Orecchiette, while Sarah got Cannelloni. Mine was okay, but while we first laughed and wondered why her's said Gefullte in German, we found out because it wasn't chopped up fish inside. After that affair, we walked to the Spanish Steps, and explored the local obelisks, one of which containing a statute of Moses holding a scroll in Hebrew. Then we called it an Erev Pasqua night.

Sunday was of course Easter Sunday. In Hebrew פיסחה land Italian Pasqua, like Pesach. Sarah and I were determined to make it the Vatican in the early morning, and it was pretty sweet. People of course were everywhere, the guards looked ridiculous, and I made a Matzah note which I thought was pretty clever, except that I'm sure I made some think I was a Jew for Jesus. There was some fine hymn renditions by an American Men's choir, and then the Pope said a few words, before we took off and met the rest at the Pantheon. The Pantheon, which means temple for the gods, and not only enormous, but contains the burial spot of Raphael. It has a whole in the roof, and strategically placed holes in the floor to drain rain water.

We then walked, me with my box of Tam Tams, to Piazza Navona by way of Hadrian's Temple and some neat street performances, such as glass playing at human sculptures After the Piazza, we headed south to the Jewish Ghetto, which was closed completely. However, the Synagogue was open, so we took a tour. Mind you, there were guards around the perimeter, because in the 80's there was a terrorist attack. There were also no pictures allowed. I broke that rule. A lot. I got caught the first time in the museum area, where all these clothes were stored from hundreds of years earlier, as well as remnants from early Jewish catacombs and gravestones. This harsh woman in a red blouse warned me, so I put the camera away until we entered the main sanctuary. This chamber was enormous, including an extremely high ceiling, and quotes around the corners. Then, after that tour, I found my way back to the museum, where I found a very interesting bit about the Roman Jewish community's relationship with Israel. Once the state was established, the chief Rabbi of Rome gathered the community under the Arch of Titus, something that hadn't ever been done. However, the community had been critical at times of Israel's actions, such as during the first Lebanon War in the 80's (the subject of a massacre that took place, and was the same subject as the Oscar nominated film "Waltz with Bashir"). However, soon after the terrorist attack hit the Synagogue, and Israeli nationalism became unconditional. I was taking a picture of a neat photo of Israeli flags waving in front of the Colosseum, when this same red woman found me and was waiting to close the museum. She took me to the front desk, and had me walked out to the guards.
Now my natural reaction to a situation like this is that I start to tremble, because I don't know what's coming, even though I have a vague idea. I understand the consequences of my actions, but it doesn't mean I agree with them. Therefore, while having a mini panic attack, and without looking, I made the most of my final 60 seconds in the Synagogue gates, and popped open my camera, taking out the card with all the pictures of the Synagogue and the trip on it, slipping it in my back pocket. Then I thought, if the guard looks at the camera, he won't see any card, so he'll really have my number, so I slipped another camera card quickly into the camera, while following behind one of the museum employees on the way out. Then I thought, if the guard doesn't see any pictures on the camera, he'll know something's up, so I started taking pictures left and right without looking, all the way out the gate. The guard saw my blurry incoherent pictures, and said "thank you, bye bye."

Dinner was a whole trout and potatoes, overpriced at a tourist restaurant near the Trevi Fountain, and then I headed back to the Home in Rome one last time. I have to mention that I rushed out in the morning for the Vatican, and forgot my map, so without the group I had no form of navigation all day. Excellent. I'm writing this now on the train to Florence, wondering what's going to happen next, and whether the hostel I booked is really a hostel.

Note: Because the internet access depends on the location, things may get sloppier multimedia wise. I'll try my best

Pictures:
Rome 1
Rome 2












next stop, Firenze

Exodus from Israel יציאת ישראל

Passover here is somewhat less that satisfactory considering the bulk of the country is observing it in full swing. You would expect that by now there would be wedding cakes made entirely out of matzah, where you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. The next best thing is Kosher restaurants and supermarkets, where you can see a squeaky clean bread isle.

Erev Passover (eve) always includes a fast for first borns in memory of Pharaoh's decree to throw first borns into the Nile. The fast is bypassed if you learn a little bit of Jewish law early in the morning. This year, though, was also a special occasion known as Birchat Hachama, or the blessing of the sun. Every 28 years, it's apparently an anniversary of the sun's creation, so it's cause for a little celebration. I woke up late, so I didn't eat much except for Dorothy Brook's famous mandelbroit, but I did go to the Western Wall. It was okay, nothing special, and I believe I missed the festivities because all the roads had been closed, according the Taxi drivers.

The Passover Seder for me was spent in a wonderful settlement called Kdumim, about 10 miles from Nablus. It was my first trip into the Shomron (West Bank) region, and the scenic views almost prevented me from falling asleep (I packed my bags for Italy before I left, and didn't sleep much). Mind you, I traveled with two very interested non-Jews, Will and Chandler, who had been in the country for a long time and were always looking for new experiences.

We arrived at the settlement, and our host, Na'ama our counselor (RA, or madricha) from the Hebrew U. program picked us up. We got a tour of the house, and a special concert by Chandler on his bagpipes. Good Morning Nablus!



The Seder itself ran about 4 hours, form a quarter to nine til about 1. It was a small group of my my counselor's family and extended family, but it was very cool experiencing an Israeli Seder with discussions and stories all in Hebrew. For example, we talked about how matzah may have been the only bread the Israelites knew how to make when they left Egypt, rather than there not being enough time for them to make normal bread.

The next morning I slept more than I had in at least a week, and we took a walk around the settlement. I got the feeling that this area probably looked a lot like the major Israeli sites in the "undisputed" territories did, about 70 years ago. There were also a few memorials for Arab attacks and shootings. It's important to note that on the entire bullet proof bus ride through the West Bank, we were never more than 20 minutes from the major cities. We drove the perimeter.

Thursday night, I packed up and got a full serving of Israeli home hospitality, as Na'ama's mom prepared a bunch of Passover snacks for me to bring on the airplane, such as carrots, apples and dried fruit, macaroons, and charoset. I was even offered a backpack that I'm taking with, because it's much bigger and easier to transport. So while Will and Chandler headed with Na'ama to Mount Gerizim to witness the ancient Passover sacrifices as done by the Samaritans , I took the only bus back to Jerusalem, to pick up my clothes and head to the airport, about 3 1/2 hours of riding in all.

So here I am, Friday morning 4am, sitting in Ben Gurion Int'l airport, about to fly to Istanbul and then Rome in time for the weekend. I lost my mind a long time ago, and feel like I'm leaving very unprepared, sort of like them Israelites. I just called the States to say hello to my family doing the second Seder. At least they have an order to their night right now (Seder means order).

Also, here is Will's side of Passover in Kedumim:

Pesach (Passover) in the West Bank

Pesach was amazing! We got back to Jerusalem on Monday night from our Galilee hike and crashed. The next day, we turned around and met up with an American Jew named Ira to head to our Israeli friend Nama's house in Kdumim to spend Pesach (Passover) with her family. This to me was one of the most interesting trips ever. Kdumim is what we in the West call a "settlement". As the Egged bus entered the West Bank (Samaria is what the Israelis call it), I just had a strange sinking feeling. This is real. I'm finally visiting an Israeli settlement. The bus snaked in and out between the hills. Everything was segregated. Jewish town here, Arab town there.

You can tell the difference in several ways. Jewish towns are typically built on top of hills for protection, and they also have large fences or walls around them with a large listening post tower in the middle of town. The Jewish houses are usually crowded together in a very uniform way and look very nice with the trees planted in an ordered way. Arab towns are obvious from far away because of their many minarets showing you where the mosques are.

The bus route took us through a small Arab town, literally through a market street. It was really awkward, you're on this giant green Israeli bus right in the middle of a bus street full of Palestinians. No matter your political persuasion (let's say your the most left-wing anti-Zionist on earth), you feel really worried that you are a target. Everytime a boy carrying a package or a car gets too close, scenarios go flying through your head. What if we get surrounded by a mob and all lynched? Would they believe that I'm an American and not an Israeli? You are on an Israeli bus headed to Israeli settlements in the West Bank, guilty by association. But once again, the fears are more founded in Hollywood movies than reality.

The bus stopped at several settlements. One of them, Immanuel, was a small Orthodox settlement that really was extremely run down. My comment to Chandler was that if all the settlements in the West Bank were like this, then it would be easy to move them out for peace. But they aren't all like that. Kdumim was much larger, more developed, and spralled across the hilltop landscape. It would be very hard to remove this town, much less larger ones like Ari'el.

Nama's family was super nice. None of them were native English speakers, so we were in for a Hebrew immersion experience (which by the way was amazing). Nama had quite a family gathering and we were a neat extra part. The most fun person staying in her house was a 7 yr old named Amit (his father was in the hospital, deathly ill). Amit didn't speak any English and was really shy at first. An hour later, he was attached to us and constantly badgering us to come play with him, which Chandler, Ira, and I all did at various times.

We helped set up for Pesach and then got dressed for Shul at the Synagogue. This was only my third time at shul and only my fifth or so time inside a synagogue. Amit had the option of either sitting up with Nama and the girls or sitting with us. Of course, by now, he was a part of my leg, so he was not going to leave us. He sat next to me and the service started. So there I was, with very little experience with Jewish services, trying to keep up with a prayer book all in Hebrew, with the service all in Hebrew, with a 7 year old Jewish boy to my left asking me what page we are on and what's going on and how much longer. So, I did what any good Christian man would do, I guided Amit through the service as best I could. I dunno what I would've done had Ira not been on my right telling me what page we are on and where on the page! But how comical it was that here I was this Christian guy helping a Jewish kid through a Jewish service, all in a foreign language!

After Shul, we did Pesach dinner which started at 8pm and ended around 2am. There are lots of prayers, songs, and five different courses. At one point, we ate part of the roots of a fresh horse radish to remember the suffering of the Jews in slavery. I hated that stuff. It was so horrid. I could still taste it the next day.

Pesach day is like Shabbat: no lights, no cars, etc. So basically, you sit around the house and don't do much. We played סיכון (Risk) for a long time. I wandered in the kitchen from time to time. The cabinets are taped with signed that say "kosher" and "humitz". The ones with "humitz-infested" foods were not allowed to be opened.

After sunset, we could use cars again so we drove down to Shechem/Nablus to Mount Gerizim where the Samaritans do their passover. But their passover is done the old fashion way: they actually slaughter sheep! So, it's Chandler, a bunch of Israelis, and I walking on the top of this mountain through an almost deserted Samaritan village late at night and the fog is so thick that you couldn't see much farther than a block. I see this scary looking gate with a spike-topped fence. This was the slaughtering grounds. There were smoldering pits where they had put the sheep (we missed the slaughtering) in the ground cook. They were pits of mud with smoke billowing from them (not to mention the fog around us) and giant stakes stuck in the ground (which impaled the dead sheep). Further back from this were men clad in all white, stained with blood and mud, sitting around a fire singing songs in ancient Hebrew and Aramaic. The ground was stained with blood and mud everywhere.

We went up from the slaughtering grounds to the ruins of the Samaritan temple on the summit of the mountain. The massive stone gates were ominous looking especially considering they led to an endless staircase. We were literally level with the fog, so we were starting to get wet. The fog was so thick that you could hardly see and there were no lights past the gate, so only the full moon lit the area. The temple is surrounded by a security fence because it is a condemned building.

Nama found a hole in the fence and so we all snuck into the temple courtyard. It was the creepiest place I've ever been (creepier than the Red Basicila ruins in Bergama, Turkiye). I kept imaging zombies to jump out and eat me. Chandler and I climbed up a broken part of the inner wall and got on top of the inner wall trying to see into the center of the temple. It was too dark and there was too much fog. Plus we didn't have a flashlight and it was just super creepy.

We went back to the slaughtering grounds. The Samaritans were all gathering around the smoldering mud pits. Then they started to dig and began pulling out whole cooked sheep impaled on the sticks. It was crazy. There was so much smoke and fog. Everything smelled like burnt flesh mixed with mud and blood. Each Samaritan family took a sheep and ate it. We left because it was really getting to our stomachs and it was almost 1am.

I learn more from experiencing real religion than ever reading about it in a book!
Hag Samaech!
Will

Chandler and Amit

The Slaughtering Grounds

I'll let you imagine what happens here (btw - , yes, the blood flows in the trough)...

tastes like chicken (so they say)

Red - "chmutiz" infested
Black - "kosher"

The amazing scenery of the West Bank/Samaria

Yeah... don't ask...

Yam liYam 4th Day: Here Comes the Sun and Closure at the Kinneret

The natural alarm clock could not be turned off. Birds screaming from every direction, and rain that wasn't wet or cold woke me up. Yeah, they were seeds, and I had slept outside, but it was still really warm and picaresque . I do believe it was the most beautiful place I have ever been to.

The last day was probably the hardest to capture with a camera , and I don't think I succeeded in doing so. The majestic mountains and pillars on our hike were so rich in color and shape, I wanted to climb in each and every cave. We talked about the Carob tree and the equal weight of every seed, leading to the Karate we use in gold measurement. We hiked for a few hours on the same Amud River, in some particularly high and poisonous brush, and finished off at the Kinneret, in the same place where I finished in 11th grade. So how was it different this time? First, we waited for and met three guys from the program who did the real Yam el Yam, the tents and everything that comes with it, and there was a BBQ! On the way back, we passed a site where Israel's National Water Carrier Sapir Site pumps the Kineret water up to sea level (200 meters) for the rest of the country. It's so strategically built that it could survive a nuclear explosion.

All in all, this trip I took more than 643 pictures, and again, I remind you, they look dull compared to the real thing. I also remind you that I wrote the posts for this entire trip a day after the fact, and after a day where I turned my entire life around. I changed my plane ticket from Greece to Italy, and I changed my site for the Passover Seder from the German Colony in Jerusalem to Kidumim, a Jewish Settlement in the very heart of the West Bank, around 10 miles from Nablus! I therefore invite you to read all the posts from Yam el Yam.