The FSU Project

We are very excited to tell you about a project we are participating in, and we need your support. This coming April, over 40 student of HUC-JIR will be traveling abroad to help lead Passover sedars in the Former Soviet Union. The delegation will be traveling to more than twenty communities throughout Russia, Ukraine and Belarus in order to lead seders and conduct educational programming for these under served communities. There are only 6 progressive Rabbi's in the whole FSU who are expected to serve over 100 progressive communities in the region.

In order to prepare for this trip, students are required to fundraise. The trip costs on average $2,000 per student, so we need to raise $4,000 (we are both going), and this money goes toward plane tickets, visas, hotels, and supplies for the seders as well as donations to each community, which will enable them to continue observing Passover in the years to come.

Please consider supporting this project. Tax-deductible donations can be made online at http://www.pesachproject.com/. PLEASE DESIGNATE "FSU PESACH PROJECT" IN THE DROP DOWN MENU.

Additionally, contributions may be sent by mail to:
HUC-JIR
Attn: Diane Bongard
3101 Clifton Avenue
Cincinnati, OH 45220

Thanks,

Amy and Rachel

20 years ago, unbeknownst to me, my father went on a trip to the Soviet Union to work with "refuseniks" (Soviet Jews who were denied permission to emigrate abroad). Not until we picked him up from the airport at the conclusion of his trip did I learn about his true mission. I know this was a transformative experience for my father and something that I thought about a lot as a child, which is why I am thrilled to be able to visit these communities, 20 years later, and learn with them by helping them experience a Passover sedar. The transformation is amazing and it is critical to continue to support their ongoing development. ~Rachel Joseph Marah

You can check out our website at: http://info@pesachproject.com/.

Announcements

The following announcement was sent via email to HUC students:

Israelphone – After this has happened to a few students, I found out that Cellcom (the company that Israelphone is connected to) turns phones off if they see outgoing calls to the West Bank, Aza or Arab countries. They assume that the phone is lost or stolen. They are supposed to call and check before they shut it off but apparently this hasn't been the case. If you have friends or family that you are calling in these areas, let me know and it will be noted by the company. Otherwise, avoid calling from your cellphone. This is a Cellcom policy not Israelphone.

So all HUC students and their families have to rent cell phones from Israelphone for the entire year. Who would have thought that politics could affect a cell phone company in this manner. After last night's blog entry I found this to be highly appropriate. God forbid a Jew and/or Israeli have a friend on the other side. If someone is to call the West Bank, Gaza or an Arab country, it's not something that is done in peace and innocence; rather, it is because some Arab hoodlum steals an innocent Jews cell phone and makes calls to their Arab place of residence to plan the next bombing. Yeah yeah, I know -- a little extreme. But you get the point.

So, About That "Annapolis" Thing

I hope you aren't expecting some eloquent statement on how the Middle East conflict can be resolved. I am in kindergarten when it comes to this subject. The night is young in Jerusalem. As I look out our front apartment window, I see bumper to bumper traffic coming up and down Jabotinsky, a major street in Jerusalem. The President lives at the top of the hill, and I imagine there are several check points up that way. A stark contrast to the quiet, car free street I wrote about on Yom Kippur. I was working at Crossroads this afternoon, leaving there about a quarter after 6. When I walked out to Yaffo Street, I was slightly surprised by the amounts of people out and about. I walked up Ben Yehuda to King George, and the throngs of people increased. By the end of tonight I can't even imagine the number of falafel balls that will have been consumed by the hungry masses. I started walking on King George towards my apartment, a good little jaunt, and I quickly became disturbed. Who made up the masses in Jerusalem tonight? Who was out on the streets rallying for Israel? Kids, well, children really. All of the seminaries (girls) and yeshivas (boys) from Jerusalem and surrounding cities and suburbs dropped their children off to represent the supposed multitudes. Mind you many of them seemed to be of Anglo origin. The children were sent to dance and sing and make noise for Israel. I saw an awful lot of groups of boys and girls just sitting around, watching each other, more interested in doing kid things like playing Red Rover, Red Rover with their eyes, as they are not allowed to actually touch each other. Those that danced, danced with excitement, but I have a feeling they were dancing more for fun than because of some deep political belief they are told to hold by their parents and Rabbis. To me they looked like dancing pawns in an intellectually challenging game of political chess. I fear what the check mate might bring. I had no choice but to plow through the masses that were gathered in the thousands on King George in front of the stage full of Israeli flags and singing Black Hats. I couldn't understand the lyrics, nor could I read the signs. I was too busy using my broad shoulders and wide hips to snake a path through the insanity. There is so much misunderstanding, between Jews even, not to mention including the Arabs in that dichotomy. There were groups of secular Israeli children dancing, being laughed at by the religious Israeli children who didn't understand that the secular kids were making fun of them. The chaos that is Jerusalem tonight to me and my limited experience had nothing to do with politics. It was about the children. They wanted to flirt and make eyes, sit and giggle, point and laugh. The boys just wanted to "be boys" and hit and kick each other to show their affection. I'm sure that tonight, many of them, as always, were bored with politics. Politics never really seems to get us anywhere, so who can blame them. Kids just want to be kids, but we won't let them. Instead we force ideas and beliefs on them without ever explaining what they mean or allowing them to feel differently. And I didn't even have to actually look and see that there were no Arabs, Israeli or Palestinian, to be found on the streets tonight. The dogs were out in all their glory; there was no room for the minority or the oppressed. I'd like to think that the Arab children were dancing and flirting, etc., etc. Not in Jerusalem they weren't; well, maybe they were in their homes with the blinds drawn. It would have been a good night to be in the West Bank, to see the other side, literally, but it just wouldn't have been safe. This issue will never be resolved until the grown ups shut their fanatical traps and let their children think for themselves. Yes, there are people who exist among the gray in regards to this issue, but it is not a pleasant place to be as they fall in the minority. I've always taken the phrase "the children are the future" with a grain of salt, mostly because it is overused and annoying. But tonight I believe that it rings true. If we want changes to be made to ensure a brighter future, then it has to start with the kids. I hope that in the circles of children scattered throughout Jerusalem tonight, a few of them ask themselves or their friends "why are we hear tonight anyway," and that maybe they will talk about it a little in between rounds of Red Rover. Oh, and if you're wondering whose side I'm on, well, I vote for humanity.

My Second 10th Birthday

On October 3rd I celebrated 10 years clean and sober. I know this is news to some people reading this. All I can say to you is the warm, caring and real person you know would not exist today if I had not gotten clean and sober back in college. 10 years is a long time, it's a significant amount of time -- a decade. I look at it that I have been clean and sober for 1/3 of my life. Holy crap! And I am only 30 years old. When I turn 40 I will have been clean and sober for half my life, and I'll hopefully have decades ahead of me. Maybe when I turn 103 and Willard Scott (he's timeless, right?) and Smuckers recognize this poor old thing on the Today show, he can also say that I have been clean and sober 83 years. Yeah, holy crap!

I had a wonderful personal celebration of my anniversary with Rachel. We had a wonderful Argentinian steak dinner, and she gave me a beautifully written card as well as a hand engraved Hadya necklace which she had engraved with the words "im ain ani li mi li" (if I am not for myself, who will be for me" and on the back "rak l'hayom" (one day at a time) with my sobriety date. I went to an AA meeting afterwards and was given a 10 year chip from another individual's personal collection, the first time that has happened to me in my 10 years. And I will pay it forward. My anniversary wasn't until the next day but in Jerusalem AA, a day is relative -- religious or secular depending on the situation.

The following day was my actual anniversary. It was also Simchat Torah. I wrote the following account of the experience in an email I sent out that night:

I sit here at 10:02pm, and I am exhausted. Exhausted yes, but invigorated even more. I'm still reeling from the hours of dancing I did at the Simchat Torah celebration I attended at Kibbutz Gezer. I didn't expect myself to dance very much. On the way there I was thinking to myself how when I first got clean and sober, so many people told me to just sit in meetings and listen, that I had far more to learn than to contribute in those early days. As much as I don't usually agree with that philosophy, I find myself using it in various parts of my life, a little too often, mostly as an excuse. I had planned on staying on the outside of the circles tonight, observing, learning. But once the klezmer band started playing, and the Torahs were embraced, and people started dancing, well, I couldn't contain myself. I ran out into the crowd and danced, and danced, and danced. I was winded and my legs felt like jello, but I danced, and danced, and danced. I danced with a smile on my face, throwing my head back in laughter at times, eagerly grabbing people's hands and shoulders so I could feel the joy of the connection I felt to others there with me. During the last go around, a large group made a big circle around the people holding the four Torahs and circle danced. The circle was avoiding a tree so I called to people to go around the tree, and apparently others were thinking the same thing. So our circle embraced the tree as well – the tree of life, my tree of life. I circle danced around my tree of life; I celebrated and honored my life as I danced. I thought about the many difficult times and the many joyous occasions I have lived with and through, the hard work I have done to become the good person I am today, the unselfish devotion I have had for myself as I, day in and day out, look to heal and embrace the future. Today I have been clean and sober for 10 years, a decade, a third of my life. Tonight I danced in celebration of a lot of things, one of them being myself, and that I am able to do that so freely is a testament to what my life has become free of drugs and alcohol. I was drenched in sweat earlier; my hair was dripping and my shirt was soaking. But it has been many, many years since I felt so clean. If you are reading this it is because you have at some point, in some way, contributed to my ability to have the strength to overcome my demons, by loving me, supporting me, encouraging me, challenging me and, quite frankly, by simply putting up with me at times. If I didn't have each of you, I wouldn't be so blessed today, and there would be little voids in my life where your spirits should have shone brightly. But I don't have to worry about that today. All I have to do is to say thank you, to myself and to each of you. I sit here at 10:37pm, and I am grateful.

But why confine celebrations to specific time frames? Rachel and I decided that we wanted to share our joy with the HUC-JIR student community. We chose to do it on a Saturday evening because we could incorporate Havdallah, and I would tell my story. Our celebration was held this past Saturday evening in the Persian Garden on the HUC campus. Amazingly, the majority of the community came -- about 50 people -- we will forever be moved and humbled by this. It was an intimate space, and there was a comforting chill in the air. The group had naturally formed a circle, and Rachel was sitting beside me (Rachel has never been sitting beside me when I have told my story in the past, and now I won't want it any other way). We began by dedicating the evening to my mom who is having some health problems. Our songleader began with a niggun and then transitioned into Mishaberach. I then proceeded to tell my story. I wanted to tailor it to my audience (no war story like they do in AA), and the easiest way was to talk around 10 points, 10 things that I am grateful for today because of my sobriety. It was pretty much dark at this point except for the moonlight -- there were no lights in the area we were sitting in. I talked with surprising ease (it being dark REALLY helped) for about 15 minutes. The crowd was rowdy in the beginning when I opened with "I've been clean and sober since October 3rd, 1997" and then thankfully responded positively to my attempts at wit and humor. When I finished I got a great big "simon tov and mazal tov" followed by the Shehecianu. Rachel then spoke briefly about Havdallah and seperation, about every day being a new day, every day having the chance to change what we don't like so as to help us live a better life. We then had a very spiritual Havdallah experience. The flame on the candle was enormous, but it was the only light, and it lit up the small space we were in so that we could all see each other again. And then, like good Jews, we ate!!! Rachel and I had made a small investment into the Marzipan business Thursday night, and everyone happily feasted on lots of cakes and sweets. I was overwhelmed by the many hugs given to me and the amazing, kind words people shared with me. It appears to have been an intimate and meaningful experience for everyone in attendance. It was a small moment in time that Rachel and I will never forget.

I Feel Like I've Been Waiting For It My Entire Life...

...the first Jerusalem rain of the season. I was working at Crossroads (more on that later) all evening, and at around 7pm I started hearing loud thunder and seeing bright flashes of lightening. And then the rains came. I was so incredibly excited that I bounded down 2 flights of stairs and went outside and just stood in the rain. I called Rachel who was with some classmates having coffee and she too was ecstatic. On day 70 of being in Jerusalem I posted a blog about how sick I was of the bright, sunny and blue skied days. Well, 51 days later, I can happily say that the rainy season has arrived. It was very cloudy and dreary all day, so I'm not surprised that it ended up raining. I kept saying to people "Do you know how happy this makes me?!?!?" Rain is a regular part of the areas I have lived in the States, so it feels ever so familiar to stand outside in Jerusalem and get wet from falling rain. When I walked home from Crossroads it was still raining, and people were dressed as if it were a snowstorm which made me laugh. Fleece jackets, scarves, hats. I was ecstatic to be walking around town in a t-shirt and jeans and not be sweating for a change! But the happiness of a week or so ago of praying for rain and "miraculously" getting it was quickly dampened as my feet almost went out from under me and I almost busted my butt 3 times as I walked home. That damn Jerusalem stone is so slick when it is wet. So here's to the beginning of a season filled with people wiping out and getting large, strange looking bruises on their backsides.

Hello to Freedom and New Perspectives

The first of three HUC tiyulim (trips) took us to the North to learn more about the “New Jew” – emigrants from the first and second aliyah period before the founding of the modern state of Israel (1880-1914). It was a great trip, not perfect because Amy was too sick to join us, but a much needed break from J’lem. First, a reflection on our class – while I know it’s still early in the year I think we’re a pretty amazing group of people. Not to say that everyone’s friends with each other but that’s not the goal – the goal is respect and camaraderie. The year-in-Israel experience breeds a camp environment with all the good and bad of living and breathing each other 24/7. This first tiyul was a true test of our maturity and willingness to roll with the punches and I think we passed – no need for a class meeting or group therapy. Ok, back to the actual tiyul.

We left very early Sunday morning, only a few hours after the gates closed on Yom Kippur and everyone still hung over from gorging at break-the-fast. I quickly became a proud member of bus #2 (our madrichot bought martzipan rugela to win us over) comprised of our amazing tour educator, Gadi (brother-in-law of my friend Ari Geller and son-in-law to Rabbi Gellar) and our amazing history teacher and source for all things British, Dave Mendelson. The initial drive North was sprinkled with history tidbits, Israeli factoids, international sports updates and much needed cat-naps. Our first stop was Rosh Pina, one of the first settlements from the first aliya period beginning in the early 1880s. The original moshava still exists and is absolutely beautiful! The surrounding town of Rosh Pina is known for its B&B’s, restaurants and wineries so I hope to have an opportunity to spend more time in the area. Our first stop also brought our first multi-media presentation of the trip. This will have to be a separate blog entry but I am quickly becoming a multi-media connoisseur – every single site in Israel has an accompanying presentation, I’m not exaggerating! One of my theories it that during the second intifada while tourism was lagging, Israelis had plenty of time to update every tour site. It’s really unbelievable! Ok, distracted again.

After Rosh Pina we had lunch on a tributary of the Jordan River and then went rafting. 6 people per raft and only 2 paddles; it was actually a lot of fun when we weren’t ramming into the banks of the river which were actually tree roots and prickly shrubbery (I have wounds). I did learn that cotton fields, in Israel, are irrigated with purified waste water much of which was splashed in my face during our rafting trip. Needless to say, I was more than thrilled to take a long, hot shower once we arrived at Karei Deshe – our amazing hostel on the shores of the Kinneret. The room was spacious and clean and yes, the shower was hot! I helped lead ma’ariv services that evening on the beach and it think it went well.

Day 2, we were up early and off to Tel Dan – not really a direct relation to the theme of the “New Jew” but the director of HUC’s Archeology School agreed to meet us there and explain this very significant site. Established by the Northern Israelite Tribe of Dan where they actually built their own Temple Mount outside of Jerusalem during the Second Temple period. Archeologists also found a stone with an inscription referring to David’s Kingdom and it is the only mention of King David outside of the torah. Tel Dan is also a beautiful nature preserve with waterfalls and wildlife. We took a short walk through the main area but again, it’s a place to visit in the future. Then we were off to a Golan lookout point at Har Bental which also has preserved military bunkers that we were able to walk through. It was a spectacular view of Syria and Lebanon.

Continuing the Golan experience we met a resident who’s one of the official English speaking spokespersons defending the right of the Golan settlements to exist. Of course it began with a propaganda movie and then some amazing lobbying by the spokesperson. I definitely had a DC reaction to the presentation – while I disagreed with much of the message, the delivery was great, textbook lobbying 101 and I hope this person gets paid a lot to be such an impassioned lobbyist. We then debriefed in small groups before FINALLY heading back to the hostel for a BBQ dinner and singing on the beach. We were joined by an Israeli folk band consisting of a guitar player and an accordion. Good times had by all.

Day 3, I decided to eat breakfast outside on the beach. Our days were so jam-packed that we never returned to the hostel during daylight. I soaked up every second of those 30 minutes on the water, much needed serenity. First stop on our final day was Tel Chai, the Masada of the North where the pioneers would rather die than surrender. They are memorialized throughout the North and in the towns name: Kiriyat Shmona. We then went to Metualla – Israel’s Northern most city and looked over to Lebanon. I felt perfectly safe standing on the border even though Israel is on “high alert” and I think living in DC over the past 8 years has helped me relate (on a very small level) to Israel’s security issues. You can’t hide from terrorism and violence; you must continue living your life, go out and play basketball. Then we were off to meet with a psychotherapist who deals with trauma and the effects of PTSD which is a major problem in the North. After lunch we stopped briefly at the kibbutz where Naot shoes are made. We only had 20 minutes to shop and amazingly I didn’t buy anything – too much pressure – but I tried on many pairs! Our final visit was to the Kinneret Cemetery where people related to the first and second aliyah are buried. We had mincha and watched the sunset on the Golan, I know I’m not in the US but it was truly purple mountains majesty. By this point in the day, our bus driver was more than cranky and basically paced during the entire mincha service because we were running behind schedule. Israeli bus drivers are only allowed to work 12 hours at one time. I think this is a very good law but he was threatening to not drive us back to J’lem or just leave us on the road in Jericho. Thankfully, we made it home (with only 4 minutes to spare) safe and sound.

Back in J’lem, Amy and I have been enjoying break during sukkot. We’ve explored many interesting neighborhoods and taken lots of pictures of sukkot on people’s balconies and in their yards. And yesterday we spent the day in Tel Aviv. Today, we’re off to the Old City for more exploring.

It's So Beautiful When Things Make Sense

I saw my acupuncturist today. For those of you who don't know, I acquired an e-coli type bacteria about 6 weeks ago, went on antibiotics but apparently wasn't on them long enough because the bug came back. So now I'm taking antibios for 10 days and am feeling under the weather again. Cross your fingers that it works this time. Cipro kills anthrax but can't conquer Amy's GI bugs??? Let's hope it does this time. Anyway....

Several things happened during my treatment today that just blew me away and made me even more of a believer in the power of acupuncture. First she looked at my tongue closely as she always does. It was dry and a bit yellow, indicative of GI problems. I have had a really bad headache that won't go away for about 4 days now. I told her about it and that it is in my forehead. Some of the points in the forehead are related to GI problems, thus the headache (which by the way is so much better since my treatment). Then when she took the needles out of my forehead there was the slightest bit of blood coming from those teeny tiny needles. She wasn't surprised as GI troubles should cause heat in the forehead, thus the needles acted like teeny tiny leeches in that they were drawing heat to the surface (for those who are afraid of acupuncture, I just want to say that even with blood and needles involved, it really does not hurt and is so worth it).

Okay, so I admittedly butchered the language and descriptions of acupuncture in the above paragraph. The art of eastern medicine is not easy to learn and master, so that was laywoman's language at the very most. But you get the drift. Every pulse she took and point she treated and conclusion she made, made perfect sense. How many times are we blessed in our lives to be privy to perfect sense. For me, very few, but hopefully that will continue to change throughout my life. I laid on her table, feeling sick and tired and frustrated, and between her knowledge and expertise and my body's ability to communicate with her, just for about 30 minutes, it all made sense. How beautiful is that?

Language Schmanguage

*As I sit down to write this I fully acknowledge that if I would just get my butt into ulpan these things probably wouldn't happen*

Grocery Store

I had an appointment with my acupuncturist today, in Talpiot, an area where there are far more Hebrew speakers who don't speak English than in other parts of J'lem. I have never had difficulty at the grocery store there, Super Sol Deal, but I have never had my groceries delivered to my apartment from there. I had gotten big items that I really couldn't carry on my own such as cases of soda, a big bag of laundry detergent and a big container of fabric softener. It's hard to carry more than one or two 1.5 liter bottles of soda from the grocery store and up 4 flights of stairs. I got other random food items, some of which were cold or frozen that I took with me in my own bag.

When I got to the checkout lady I said "delivery" in Hebrew -- my acupuncturist had written how to say it phonetically correct before I left for the store. I had no idea if I was supposed to put food in the delivery box myself or if someone who works there does it for me. So I started loading the cases of soda and putting the food items in the box, and then the cashier started talking a mile a minute to me in Hebrew -- it appeared she wasn't happy about something. The only thing I could understand was that she was telling me they wouldn't deliver my groceries. Now it took me asking several people when I got there if they speak English whether or not delivery is an option and if I have to spend a certain amount to qualify for delivery (like it is with another grocery store) -- I got an affirmative answer so I knew this woman was confused. We then proceeded to have a bit of a standoff --this was something neither of us wanted -- we just had no choice but to speak to each other in our native language and not understand what the other was saying. So it may have looked standoffish, but I was being as kind and polite as possible. After all, I am in a foreign country where I do not know the language, and I always feel a little guilty for not speaking Hebrew, especially in a situation like the grocery store.

Thankfully there was a very kind Israeli woman behind me in line who ended up being our translator, helped at times by other store employees who thought they spoke English but didn't really do so. So the cashier was told that I want delivery and that seemed to make her happy for a while. I was shown by our translator how to pack the delivery boxes, and meanwhile the cashier was keeping busy with paperwork. I had a few bags of food that didn't fit into the box, so the cashier's response to me was again that my food can't be delivered. My niceness was wearing thin at this point and I asked the translator to tell the cashier that I cannot take all of this food home and that I'll have to waste everyone's time refunding everything. Apparently Israeli's aren't patient, well, we knew that already, because when they asked me if I could wait a few moments until an empty delivery box turned up, I said yes, and they seemed shocked by this. I was just happy that the delivery process was continuing. When it came time to get my name, address and phone number, craziness emerged again. Translator wrote it down in Hebrew for the cashier and delivery guys, but the problem came when they asked me to explain exactly where I live. Imagine explaining the following in English to people who only speak a little English: our address is 22 Jabotinsky, but there is no entrance there; pretend that you're standing on Jabotinsky in front of 22, and notice that there is no entrance or any doors; so now imagine that you have to go to the back door, at which point you start going down M'ndele, the street that our entrance is actually on; now walk under the apartment building that is in front of you to the courtyard, where you have to look really hard for the hidden walkway to Entrance 10, our entrance, and then walk to the top floor and you will find our apartment. They always demand our address, and I always say that it is not helpful and is quite confusing, but they always demand it in the end. As I sit here and write this I am dreading when my cell phone starts ringing because the delivery guys can't find my apartment and are speaking to me in Hebrew while I speak back in English. Translator wasn't helpful at this point but only because she was trapped behind my shopping cart and couldn't engage in said conversation. Things finally seemed in order but was asked one last time for my contact information. The man said they would call if they get lost, and I smiled nicely and said I'll be waiting. I lurked for a moment while some poor man who only was buying a bottle of soda and had probably been waiting for too long checked out because I wanted to thank the translator. The cashier was looking nervously at me out of the corner of her eyes, but all I wanted to do was thank the translator and apologize for keeping her held up. She was very nice in return.

Taxi Cab

I wish I had brought translator with me on the cab ride home. I took a cab out to Talpiot earlier for my appointment and the cab driver suggested 20 shekel as a fair price. Seeing as how I was totally and knowingly, but in too much of a hurry to care, ripped off the day before when I paid 20 shekel to go half as far, I happily agreed and all was good. When I left the grocery store, there was a cab right there and the driver told me he could give me a ride. I hopped in, he started driving, he suggested 35 shekel and I said nope, that I had paid 20 earlier, he said 30, I said nope, that I had paid 20 earlier, and he stopped the cab and told me to get out. Fine. I was really growing frustrated at this point. I decided that because the area I was in, right around the Hadar Mall, is always so congested with cars and people that I would walk a ways up Pierre Koenig until things thinned out and grab a cab then. I did just that and got a cab right away. I got in and he immediately turned on the meter (this was good), and he asked me where I'm going. When I said 22 Jabotinsky he said that he doesn't speak any English, what is it in Hebrew. Um, Jabotinsky is how it is said regardless of the language -- it's just spelled a lot different. He asks me to write it down, so I did, "22 Jabotinsky," and showed him and he again said in Hebrew. I just kept saying Jabotinsky, confused as to how he doesn't understand my saying the word and by he not knowing a major street in J'lem and be a cab driver. He called a friend on his cell phone, said something and handed it to me. I assumed his friend spoke English -- wouldn't you? I said hello and he asked where I'm going, I said Jabotinsky, he says he doesn't speak English. Tell me why the cab driver would call someone to talk to me who doesn't speak English. At this point we are getting closer to the major intersection and he calls another friend who again was no help at all. Out of desperation I started saying major street names that are near where I live, and he recognizes those of course, but not mine, and then proceeds to drive up one of them. Only then does he say he knows Jabotinsky which is of course now very difficult to get to. I immediately told him I would only pay him 20 shekel as I looked at the meter that was almost to 20. He starts getting really angry and muttering under his breath about money, money, money, as though he doesn't care about it himself. We drove towards and ended up near Ben Yehuda, a good 15-20 minute walk from my apartment before circling around and coming back down. He was so angry and at this point I was right there with him. He is yelling at me and asking how I don't know Hebrew. I responded that if you are a cab driver in J'lem you should know basic English and how the heck do you not know Jabotinsky!!! He was driving far too fast for this particular street, and I told him to turn on the street that is parallel to mine, I was just going to get out and walk the rest of the way. He went around a little park and then got on the wrong street which caused me to yell a little. He then went off in Hebrew, I said to him that I don't understand him but God does, and demanded he stop the car which he did at a screeching halt. I threw my money at him, said "todah robah expletive expletive (thanks a lot expletive expletive)" and got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as I could. He literally peeled out and what I found hilarous was that by driving straight for about a block he would run into Jabotinsky. I had to walk about 5 minutes and was so angry that even with my being sick and tired I made it up our 4 flights super easy.

4 guys literally just got here with my groceries 5 minutes ago as I write this. I was surprised that I never got a call, so I asked the guy who I knew spoke some English from the store if he had any problems and he said yes. Big surprise. I asked what was confusing and he said that it was because our entrance is not on Jabotinsky and instead off a side street. Didn't I try to tell him that at the store? And he of course acted like it was my fault. Ugh...Israelis.

Is there a moral to this long story? Of course! Amy needs to learn some Hebrew. Or, better yet, Amy needs to find "the translator" and hire her for 10 hours a week. That's plenty of time to get all of my errands done :)

Kaparot

So someone came across my post about Kaparot and gave me the link to his post about Kaparot which is very, very, very different from mine. I'm posting the link below.

PLEASE KNOW THAT THE PHOTOS INCLUDED IN HIS POST ARE VERY, VERY, VERY DISTURBING. This isn't just sensitive ole Amy talking -- I looked at them quickly and was truly appalled. It's not going to make you vomit but it will almost certainly make you shudder and question the ways of the ultra-religious. The writing on the blog is interesting too. Viewing the photos might help you see that in yesterday's blog post I wasn't speaking from pure irrational emotion -- it really is a pointless and disgusting religious practice. Plus, it truly gives you a very good idea of what happens during Kaparot if that is something you want to know. AGAIN, THE CONTENTS OF THE LINK BELOW ARE HIGHLY DISTURBING.

http://niralon.wordpress.com/2007/09/18/send-the-sinful-chicken-to-hell-take-ii/

Desperately Trying For A Creative Title But Coming Up Empty

Hopefully the Cipro isn't depleting important brain matter....

I did not make it out of the apartment today, just didn't feel well enough. It was interesting to be here with all of the windows open all day and hearing all of the sounds of the people strolling up and down Jabotinsky rather than the loud cars I am used to. I periodically went to the window to look out -- in broad day light it was not quite as interesting as what I wrote in the blog post about last night.

I kept myself busy today praying, not something I really planned on doing, it just happened and I'm glad I did. First I did a little Shabbat specific praying by going through the Shabbat service Rachel and I created for the Shabbat service we hosted the weekend of my conversion. I hadn't looked through that in quite some time -- I was looking in my original tallis bag and found it -- and it really felt good to become familiar with it again. I actually found myself thinking that right now in my life I don't feel the need to become Bat Mitzvah, that in many ways my conversion experience and the before mentioned service was kind of like a Bat Mitzvah -- I was called to the Torah in that I gave a D'var Torah on that week's portion and brought together many family and friends to pray with Rachel and I and to celebrate my becoming Jewish. Who knows what time will bring, and I'll go with the flow. I then read the entirety of the morning, afternoon, memorial and concluding services since I was missing all of it. I know that a big part of prayer is that it is something done within a larger community, but I kind of liked being alone today -- I felt better able to really read, understand and reflect on the liturgy. Turns out I'm glad I read the prayerbook cover to cover as Rachel reminded me that the URJ is releasing a new prayerbook next year. I had post-it notes with me and marked some places where the liturgy really struck me or where I had questions and wanted to ask Rachel for some insight when she got home -- what can I say, I keep her on her toes.

I was still praying when sunset came and went. At 5:57pm I heard the first car drive past me on Jabotinsky. At 6:07pm I heard a second car. Then at 6:13pm a third car went by and the floodgates were opened. Within 20 minutes it sounded like just another day in Jerusalem -- car after car, scooter after scooter went by, and just like it was 24 hours ago, the horns they were a' blowin'. The unique and special experience I witnessed, the quiet and calm, the innocence and quiet of Yom Kippur disappeared quickly and it became just another night on the streets of J'lem -- loud and annoying. I quickly got up and shut the windows, trying to hold on to that peaceful quiet a little longer but resigned to the fact that not even closed windows can keep the world from spinning onwards. Time, it moves forward, whether we like it or not.

Yom Kippur -- And Amy's Sick Again

Yup, the funky nasty bacteria I had 5 weeks ago is back with a vengeance, which means the Cipro I took that is quite good at killing anthrax didn't do the job for me. So I'm back on Cipro and probably will be for 10 days total to make sure it's all gone this time. I hate to think of what else will be wiped out as well. I've basically been sick since I got here so I'm anxiously awaiting sustained health!!!

Not only have I not been able to attend Yom Kippur services -- if you could see me right now I'm not exactly crying about it :) -- but I cannot go on the HUC tiyul (trip) to the Golan Heights and the Galilee. Between my foot that hurts so bad at times that it is difficult to walk and my unpredictable GI tract, along with a slew of other smaller, related problems, it just isn't going to happen. It won't be good for me and it won't be good for the group, but that doesn't erase the disappoint both Rachel and I feel about me not sharing this interesting experience with her. But who knows, maybe we will have a chance to take a few days and go north and she can show me all of the cool stuff that she sees on the trip. She leaves early Sunday morning and will be back late Tuesday evening. I just keep telling myself that the rest will really be good for me in a lot of ways and worth it in the end.

I slept in on Friday while Rachel went with a friend to the shuk to pick up some last minute necessities and to see the Kaparot near the shuk. A brief description of what Kaparot is reads as follows from a random website: [The original form of the kaparot ceremony involves taking a chicken (a white rooster for a male, hen for a female) and waving it over one’s head while reciting this prayer: "This is my exchange, this is my substitute, this is my atonement. This chicken will go to its death while I will enter and proceed to a good long life, and peace." Then the chicken is slaughtered and it (or its cash value) is given to the poor.]

Okay, so I would not have gone even if I was feeling perfect as I am too sensitive to the pain and suffering of all living creatures. That being said, I think people who participate in this are lying to themselves. It is not a "ritual." It is a sacrifice, in my oh so humble opinion, something that has supposedly been abandoned since the destruction of the 2nd temple. How can a person "exchange, substitute, atone" for their own sins by tormenting, torturing and slaughtering a live, innocent chicken which I'm sure if you asked if that is what it wanted it would most certainly say no. I mean, come on, how would you like for someone to grab and squeeze your arms together and swing you hard and fast over their head, probably breaking shoulder bones in the process and then pulling your head back and slitting your throat. Then they would throw you in some watery stuff that drains your blood while your killer throws sawdust on your blood to "make it all go away." Personally, if I were the Creator upstairs, I'd kind of laugh at the folks who really believe that they can exchange all sins and transgressions for a chicken. If it were that easy, chickens would be an overproduced and overpriced bird as people stupidly believed that they could do whatever they wanted as long as they had a chicken to absolve all of their sins. If there is a redeeming factor it is that the chicken or the monetary equivalent is given to the poor. Or else the chicken ends up in the shuk and is sold to people like me -- talk about funky nasty bacteria!!! If Rachel has a chance, she might be able to elaborate on Kapparot in a less emotional and more intellectual way as I clearly am quite biased. As I write all of this I acknowledge that I eat meat that I'm sure comes from inhumane slaughter -- although not so much here I guess since kosher meat is supposedly slaughtered humanely and it's really hard to find non-kosher meat -- but in the states this is not so. Rachel and I have been talking a lot lately about slowly bringing the ideas behind ethical kashrut into our daily lives, so I am happy to say that we are trying to start living by our words and will be moving to a city and state that makes it easy to be ethical and environmentally friendly in terms of foods.

I didn't make it to dinner at our friend's apartment with Rachel, not that I could have eaten anything, but I did manage to shower and meet her so we could walk to HUC for Kol Nidre. What we had heard about YK in J'lem is most certainly true. By 5pm all of the traffic lights were blinking yellow and the walk signals were blinking red. There were almost no cars left on the roads at that point. We met some friends and walked to the sanctuary together. My prediction turned out to be correct -- there were no seats and people were bringing in plastic chairs. We luckily got some of the first plastic chairs and sat down for the service. I went specifically for Kol Nidre and didn't make it much past that before leaving to go back home. Rachel had told me that it is customary for people from all over to meet on Emek Refaim and walk down the street after Kol Nidre. I obviously wasn't doing this, and when I left HUC there were officially no cars on the streets, so I joined others in walking down the middle of typically very busy and congested streets the whole way home (King David and Keren Ya Hasod specifically).

Once inside, I turned on the TV to see what on earth is playing on Yom Kippur in Jerusalem. Well, absolutely nothing. All of the cable channels but one random channel said that broadcasting would resume at 20:00 the following day. There were also some random news channels on, mostly different BBC channels but no Israeli news channels. I actually read through the evening service in our prayer book at home and then spent a lot of time watching people walking up and down Jabotinsky, yet another normally busy street. It being night and very dark outside made it seem very fictional. If there was no noise I envisioned a scene from a horror movie or something, like all of these zombies walking around in their white clothes. And it seemed so nonsensical to see all of these people on Jabotinsky that I again fictionalized it and thought of a good ole end of the world Hollywood flick where the only thing people knew to do was to wander the streets. Rachel pointed out that this is kind of weird while I call it imaginative and creative. The one thing that really stuck out was the 4 teenage girls, walking, holding hands and singing beautifully, wearing white robe type things. I immediately thought of the film O Brother Where Art Thou when the 3 men come across the 3 women singing on the river's banks. It's interesting how universal religious connotations can end up being.

More Rosh Hashanah, And A Bunch Of Random Stuff

2nd day of Rosh Hashanah we first went to some long time friends of Rachel's parents home for a truly special meal. They have a very large apartment home, rare for Jerusalem, with multiple balconies of various sizes and a very open living/dining/kitchen area. They were very gracious and loving hosts and there were tons of people there of all ages. Their home was literally filled to the brim with the sweetness their friends and family brought with them. The food was fabulous, and more and more kept appearing on their large buffet table. Judging from this Rosh Hashana I could easily say that lasagna is a traditional new year's food to eat (we ate it at Thursday's lunch too) as there was what seemed like a never ending stream of lasagna coming from the oven that was truly divine. It really was one big free for all around the food table and we have an all new appreciation for the phrase "Dig in!" after surviving several rounds at the buffet table. And we came away from it all with no stains on our clothes! It was a joyous occasion enjoyed by many.

We left there after dessert (dessert was its own insanity!) for a classmate of Rachel's apartment where she and her boyfriend hosted folks for a relaxing afternoon lunch. We were both so full that we felt rude declining food initially, but we were there long enough to have little pockets open up in our stomachs to taste the fruit salad and desserts. It was nice to just hang out with folks and talk and laugh, mostly about inappropriate things, but hey, we can't be serious learned students and their SOs all the time now can we?!

We had talked all day about possibly going to services and left our friend's home intending to walk to Kol Hanishima. But we ended up standing on the sidewalk outside the apartment building talking to a friend of ours who is a fellow SO at HUC. We stood there for an hour and 45 minutes talking, never thinking to sit on the benches next to us and literally watching people we know walk to and from services, all in disbelief that we had stood there for that long talking. It was a wonderful time spent, and we were perfectly okay missing Shabbat services. We took a picture to commemorate our marathon conversation -- check it out on DropShots. Rachel and I then walked home and spent the rest of the evening relaxing in our PJs. Shabbat morning (today) we slept in rather than get up and go to services. Honestly, Saturdays truly are Rachel's only days of rest. I did some long overdue dishes (see hilarious picture on DropShots) and made us a nice dinner. We are looking forward to setting our clocks back one hour when we get in bed in a few, and tomorrow starts a new week here in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, with the end of Shabbat returns the loud traffic on Jabotinsky. We can't wait for cold weather when we can have all of our windows closed.

Until daylight savings in the U.S., effective tomorrow (Sunday) there is only a 6 hour time difference between Israel and the EST in the States. This will change in November when y'all fall back and the time difference will return to 7 hours. There are some random pictures I put on DropShots that y'all can check out. The link is towards the top of the left hand side of the blog home page. Happy New Year!

L'Shana Tovah -- A Happy, Healthy, Sweet New Year To You All

It's hard to believe that we were at the shuk shopping just over 24 hours ago. Since Rosh Hashana doesn't end until Friday at sundown at which point Shabbat begins, the shuk and stores and shops will not be open again until Sunday, so we had to consider social obligations, plan meals and shop accordingly. We didn't head to the shuk until after noon on Wednesday, yet it was still very crowded. Rachel usually doesn't go to the shuk with me but was able to this time because she did not have school yesterday. We went armed with tote bags and a back pack as we had a long list. My favorite shuk thing happened which is that we were able to get everything we had on our very diverse shopping list at the shuk. It's simply the most cost effective way to shop but is a total pain in the ass at the same time as Rachel and I were barely able to make it home and up to the top floor without falling down from the weight of the bags. We first went to the Iraqi Shuk -- see previous post -- and it literally looked like what most Iraqi markets may look like these days; it was over half wiped out of all produce, and what was left was slim pickings (I'll keep from making any snide Bush comments).

We are attending Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur services at HUC. The Blaustein sanctuary is breathtakingly gorgeous as all you see when you look out the floor to ceiling windows behind the bimah is the Old City. The choir was fantastic last night and today, with very talented cantorial students and some not so shabby wannabes. Today's service was about 4 hours long which was a bit painful, but hearing Gingy blow the shofar towards the end of the service, again, with the Old City in plain view, was pretty darn cool and definitely worth it. We are really looking forward to Kol Nidre -- we hear that it is a truly beautiful and spiritual experience, and people come from all movements and synagogues to hear the choir and soloists -- they stand in the back and leave after Kol Nidre. I even think some of our Orthodox friends are going to come with us to HUC. There was a student led Rosh Hashana seder last night after services that was nice. I had never participated in a Rosh Hashana seder, as was the case with most people I think, but it was nice to share a good dinner with friends regardless. We had a wonderful afternoon with our aforementioned Orthodox friends and a couple they are friends with. We were invited for lunch in their new apartment -- they just got married a month ago today. The food was exceptional -- pancakes and lasagne (I know what you're thinking) made up the main course. I said that it's a good thing we have some days left to ask God's forgiveness because that apartment was full of shameless gluttons today! We really love meeting new non-HUC friends, and the newlyweds have been very good, whether intentionally or not, at introducing us to their many progressive thinking and open minded Orthodox friends. One of my biggest wishes for this year in Israel is to be a part of as many experiences as possible where preconceived and uninformed opinions that I hold for a number of reasons can be chiseled away at if not totally shattered. I just really want to understand people, places and things in a way that is good and right and fair. A good thing to meditate on this next week until Yom Kippur. My list is long but I will make room for more.

I told myself I was going to be in bed hours ago, and it is almost midnight, so I will say laila tov for now. I have more reflections I want to write about and I know more will emerge this next week and on into the rest of the chagim, so check your email, I'll be in touch. I have updated DropShots by adding any outstanding pictures and videos and also worked on captions. The link to that is on the left side of the page towards the top. Also, if you haven't done so already, you can sign up with your email address to receive an email when I post something new on our blog.


To all of you, our family and friends, our community,
we wish you a Shana Tova u'Metuka,
Amy (and Rachel)

The Iraqi Shuk

Apparently the shuk was historically sectioned off by ethnicity and nationality. It may somewhat still be this way, but more as recognition of the shuk's history and less who is actually working at stalls and where they are from. I still need to take a tour of the shuk and learn the history and random stories that will make it even more interesting to me than it already is. It is by far one of my favorite places in Jerusalem. I hope to shoot some video soon -- maybe before Rosh Hashana or next Shabbat -- because photos just can't do it justice. The shuk has 2 main arteries or corridors, one inside and one outside, one covered and lighted and the other not. Between these 2 strips are many, many alleys and connecting paths, all full of the beautiful sights and sounds of the shuk. A while ago I came across a section that is a bit off the beaten track. After walking through and seeing that it wasn't as crowded as the rest of the shuk, the prices were lower and the produce was fresher, well, I was hooked. I do almost all of the shopping there; today I was able to purchase everything on my list in this area. The shuk can be very overwhelming as there are a gazillion different stalls that sell cucumbers, for example. It is nice to have one area that I focus on and only stray for certain things that are not available in my favorite section. I did find out that the area of the shuk I prefer is known as the Iraqi shuk. I find great satisfaction in supporting the Iraqi shuk, regardless of whether there are any Iraqi men at any of the stalls selling their goods (95% of shuk workers are men, big surprise). I just sort of feel like, as I walk away with all of my goods, that I am making a statement about the war in Iraq and about W. The war is wrong, never should have started and needs to end now. Too many people on both sides have died. Iraq is in a civil war and people's lives are in ruins. If by some chance there is one Iraqi man in the Iraqi shuk, and I happen to buy from him and in some way help him and his family, wherever they may be, I consider it an accomplishment. Just being in the Iraqi shuk forces me to think about the war and the soldiers and civilians and step out of myself for a moment and remember that there are such bigger things out there. Don't worry, I'm not totally soft and PC. I also walk away from that section saying to myself : Screw you Bush, I support Iraq and would never buy cucumbers from you." Oh yeah, that is politically correct. When I walk home from the shuk, I almost always pass by a woman -- homeless, begger, I don't really know -- who sits against a building with her hand held out. I always make sure I have a few shekels to give to her, feeling guilty if I were to pass by her with bags full of wonderful foods but no pocket change for her. And relating this back to Bush? He wouldn't even understand.

Sour Cream Is 15% Fat Here...

and boy does it taste good!

I just saw a concrete truck that is called PutzMeister. What?!?!?

I was at the shuk today -- at Marzipan -- and ran a guy off! He was commenting on my tattoo and I asked him if he smokes and when he said yes I told him he was defiling his body more than I have mine via my tattoo. He left the store in a huff. And the guys behind the counter didn't throw me out, either. They wanted to talk to me in a mature way about why I wear a kippah. All was good, and I left with lots of cinnamon rolls and chocolate rugeluch. Too bad they are no longer a Shabbat treat like they originally were. If I'm anywhere near Marzipan I just sort of end up there involuntarily. We have taste tested many other bakeries and Marzipan is by far the best. The consistency of the pastries is a bit gooey which we love while other places are more hard and crunchy. Gooey good, crunchy bad.

Day 70

Well, here we go about to finish up day 70 in Jerusalem. For the most part the time has flown by and has been pretty good to us -- saying we are finishing up day 35 would feel more accurate. But one thing feels like the 70 days, 1,680 hours, 100,800 minutes and 6,048,000 seconds are really 140 days -- sun and heat. It has been sunny, blue skies and hot every single day we've been here. That probably sounds like utopia for a lot of people. but it is really starting to annoy me. I like diversity and change and to a certain extent unpredictability when it comes to the weather. Oh, and I am kind of obsessed about it, check online forecasts constantly and have been known to spend an entire day watching the Weather Channel. And I really like a good rainy day with some rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightening. I've always lived in regions that has all kinds of different weather patterns. I do understand what the winter is like here -- I know it will be cold and rainy a lot. Right now I say bring it on -- the mere thought of it is awesome. If there's a moral to this little story, maybe it's that we're never satisfied with what we have and often want what we don't have. I always covet people's thick and curly hair and they often covet my silky straight hair. We all seem to love to complain, so check back in February when I write this exact same blog post except I'll be complaining about 70 days and a bunch of hours, minutes and seconds about rain.

P.S. After lots of stress and too many hours trying to get home, Rachel arrived about 24 hours late -- early afternoon Sunday -- and today her second bag arrived. She got some great sleep last night and has been relaxing all day. She is on vacation this week and starts class again on Sunday, so we are going to lay low and do some fun things this week. We decided that Israel/Jerusalem definitely isn't home to us but that there is truly something to be said for the phrase "home is where the heart is" as all I wanted was for her to be back here with me and all she wanted was to be back here with me. So, all is good, here in our home.

A Shabbas Miracle

I don't really know if I believe in miracles or not -- probably depends on the day and situation. But I can't think of any other way to describe the luck I had Thursday evening. Rachel has been in Vermont for a conference, and she was supposed to be back early evening today. Unfortunately, she has been in traveling hell and did not make her flight last night from Newark and will get out today on the 4pm or 10pm. My plan has been -- and I will still be able to tomorrow -- surprise her with a great homecoming (can't give details in case she reads this from the airport). Part of it involves food, which she knows about, so I had made a very detailed and elaborate shipping list which also had a to-do list on it. I set out late afternoon Thursday for the first of two visits to the shuk that I had planned. I left the apartment with the list in my pocket, but once I got to the shuk it was nowhere to be found. I went through my pockets and bag several times, started to retrace my steps before realizing how pointless that was and was ready to have a breakdown when Rachel called on my cell phone. I collected myself, felt confident that I would remember things from the list if I just walked around and I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to go home and recreate the list so I could continue with my shopping. I did my round 1 of shopping and then headed home with my bags full of produce. It's a good 20 minute walk one way, and I was strolling down King George, listening to my iPod, when I suddenly remembered that I had lost the list and should be paying attention and looking for it. Literally 3 seconds later I looked down on the ground to my left and there that list was, laying exactly where it must have fallen when I took a bandanna out of my pocket to wipe sweat from my face. It was right in front of the Great Synagogue which really cracked me up. I was beyond excited and didn't try to hide it at all, much to the amusement of passersby. I went home and unloaded, marked things off the list and went back out to go to a regular market, gloating each time I was able to mark something off. I talked to my folks that evening and Dad said I have to write about it in my blog. So here it is, my Shabbas Miracle.

Rubberbands

Our cats, particularly Sadie, are quite fond of eating most anything off the floor, regardless of the size. Sadie has been known, a few too many times, to eat rubber bands that have fallen on the floor before we find them. We inevitably and thankfully find the regurgitated rubber band, usually on a light colored rug of course, and always have a healthy Sadie in the end. The previous tenants of our apartment here in Jerusalem left a lot of school supplies, including a big box of rubber bands. There have been countless times when I will see a rubber band on the floor and feel a slight panic inside as I worry if Sadie has eaten one on the floor in the other room, and I immediately go to pick it up. Then I remember that she is not here, and I could sprinkle rubber bands all over the floor if I wanted to. I tend to leave the rubber band lying there for a day or two, it being a good reminder of our furry children back in the states. I mentioned this to Rachel and she said she reacts the exact same way. So I guess we are both really tuned in to the welfare of something else, something that really relies on us. I like to think that little things like rubber bands and cats and our similar responses is a good sign that Rachel and I do indeed compliment one another well and will be a good team when we finally are blessed with non-furry but equally adorable human children. Who knew a rubber band could make me think so much. Yup, we sure do miss 'em.

Our First Tiyul to Tel Aviv

It was actually about 2 weeks ago, but I never had a chance to write about it because I was sick. There are a few things about the day that I found interesting. First, it really is a European city -- it has very little in common with Jerusalem except for the fact that it is in Israel and that Jews are the predominant inhabitants of both cities. However, Jerusalem is a very religious city and Tel Aviv is very secular, and the folks who live in each city reflect that difference. There are tons of restaurants, bars, clubs, cafes, etc. all over the place, many open late or all night. On Fridays there is an amazing artist market where we know we can go for unique gifts in the future. We ate dinner at a Thai restaurant, and pork and shellfish were on the menu! The owner was recommending dishes to me and I kept telling him I have to have pork! Transportation runs 24/7 between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv and within Tel Aviv. We did a round trip, including a sherut to Tel Aviv, a sherut to the beach and reverse for 2 people for 150 shekel total. This makes it possible for us to go to Tel Aviv every 4-6 weeks which we think we need to do so as not to suffocate in Jerusalem. Since we arrived in Jerusalem, I have been looking for all of the Ethiopian Jewish immigrants that you hear and read about, but I felt like I wasn't seeing the whole picture. Well, they are all in Tel Aviv, or at least it seems that way. It was SO nice to see people of color. Jerusalem is very white. Coming from Washington, DC, where I worked in a predominantly black neighborhood and lived in what was quickly becoming a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood, it was very refreshing to see diversity. And pretty much everyone was very Eurochic/metrosexual, again a refreshing change from the frum folks in Jerusalem. We went to the beach for a few hours. It was packed and was really quite nice. Lots of paddleball and volleyball and babies running around naked. I didn't get in the ocean, although Rachel did, but I did get my feet wet and collect some shells for old times sake. We laid around and read and hung out to see the sunset over the ocean. A little French-Jewish dog, who I named Louche, befriended us -- she made herself at home on our blanket and explored my backpack and of course agreed to the petting and scratching (check out pics on DropShot). It was a nice, although short, day. I started getting sick the night before this day trip and in hindsight probably shouldn't have gone, but I had no idea how sick I really was. So we left a lot later than we had planned and came back earlier, but we got a sense of Tel Aviv and know that we want to spend more time there. You can look forward to future posts about our adventures in Tel Aviv.

Smoking, Tattoos and Hypocrisy

Okay, a lot of things have been bugging me, and that's not exactly abnormal for my mind set. I struggle with the religious community in Jerusalem, in many different ways. Probably the biggest and most vague thing of annoyance is how they preach the 613 commandments, how they expect everyone else to cater to them around that, yet they don't always live them, they are sometimes hypocrites. Yes, I know we all are at times. But there is one particular thing that has been catching my attention since arriving in Israel: I see men, and sometimes women, with their whole black hat, peyes, tzit tzit, etc. getup on, smoking a damn cigarette. I have received disapproving looks from the religious because of my rather large foot and ankle tattoo. They believe I have defiled my body. Maybe that's true, but I love my tattoo and apologize to no one for having it. "You know you won't be able to be buried in a Jewish cemetery don't you?" Well, actually, I'm interested in eco-burial where I will be thrown in a hole out in the woods and covered with dirt, and it seems fitting that I would do so with body decoration. Or, well, I happen to think it is so sad that throughout time all over the world there have been people too poor, or people who have been abandoned because of disability or physical and mental illness who get thrown in large mass graves -- no one deserves that, not even people with tattoos; everyone deserves burial with dignity. So back to defilement. I don't see how inhaling tar and carcinogens, and oh, I don't know, the other 597 additives in a single cigarette, is not defiling the body. I have a beautiful, and yes permanent, piece of art work on my body. I really feel like I am honoring G-d's gift to me, my body, by decorating it in such a way where I feel more beautiful and where I feel I have enhanced something natural. But this tattoo will not kill me. This tattoo does not harm my family with second hand illnesses. It does not poison my body and induce cancer. While it did necessitate a one time expense, it does not cut into my family's budget every week or month. I did not act out of selfishness when I got this tattoo, but the religious man who smokes is thinking of himself, his needs, his cravings and addictions, before his children who are at risk of losing a parent prematurely. I know, I know, this all sounds extreme. I'm just trying to make a point. I feel like people have what is worthy of judgment and what is not a little mixed up. You bug me because your smoking habit affects countless people -- my tattoo does nothing to them. And neither does my kippah. Phooey on you.

Our Love For Cats

So as I wrote many weeks ago, most cats in Israel, and there are a lot of them, are feral. This has annoyed me as I'm very used to American cats who for the most part are affectionate and would prefer we humans live outside in packs rather than in our cats' homes. But I have gotten used to them for the most part. I avoid walking by dumpsters or garbage bins after dusk to avoid a cat launching itself at my face because it is scared. I've stopped thinking of them as rats and instead have been trying to appreciate that they live in packs and are afraid of humans for a reason, that they didn't ask the Brits to bring them on a boat and deposit them in a foreign country. I've started seeing them as cute and am focusing less on how skinny and skittish they are. But what brings it all back home for me is when they are hungry. There is a small pack of feral cats who live in the courtyard of the apartment complex we live in, and there are residents of the complex who feed them. It seems like lately they aren't being fed as regularly, and they have been quite hungry. Two days ago I was leaving to go run some errands. The path I take to get from my entrance to the courtyard happens to be where they are fed. As I walked down the stairs I heard cats crying, and when I actually got to the bottom and to the door 3 of the cats were inside the entrance by the mailboxes, crying at me very loudly. I was surprised that they had ventured inside and took it as a clue that they must be particularly hungry and unhappy. I felt helpless but went ahead and left, deciding that I would buy some cat food at the store. When I returned someone had given them some cooked rice, and I poured some dry cat food on top of it. I felt better about the whole situation. Today when I was leaving, the same thing happened. The cats were prowling around their food bowl crying loudly. I just have a soft spot -- for cats and most other animals who are suffering in some way -- and don't apologize for it. When I saw their empty bowl I immediately turned around to go back up to our apartment to get more food, totally not thinking about the 5 flights of stairs before me. I gave them the food and they dove right in, and the cat who appears to be the leader of the pack kind of came towards me with a softer, nicer meow (I swear the cat was thanking me :) I was out for several hours, and as I walked home I was thinking about the cats and how a self-centered person might expect the cats to recognize him or her upon arriving home and lavish that person with nuzzles and kneads. When I walked through the courtyard and saw a very empty food bowl and no sign of the cats, I couldn't help but smile. I figure they were nestled under some bushes on a soft bed of leaves, sleeping and dreaming with fat and full tummies. And that's the best cats like these can do, so that's all we can ask of them. A good lesson to be learned for us humans who often expect far too much from others and from ourselves, based on what we want and not what the other person is actually capable of. Our cats are living a sweet life in Cincinnati this year, and to do right by them I must look out for others like them who are less fortunate, and maybe we will appreciate what we have when we return to the States a little bit more. I sure do miss them....

Why I Wear a Kippah?

I decided that I should put the answer to this question in writing to mark where I have been these last few months, assuming that my reasons and thoughts behind it will evolve and change over the coming months. First, though, I want to point out that the kippot I wear have all been handmade by family members or bought from a non-profit whose purpose I support. I wear a kippah because it helps me stay humble and grounded. I always have something on the top of my head, both pushing me down towards humility and grounding but also to protect me from all that is out there around me. I do not wear it 24/7. I don't sleep in it or feel like I have to have it on while I'm home or even when I'm out and about. That's not what it's about. I wore my kippah today on my way to my haircut, and while waiting was asked by someone why I wear it? I have different answers to that question depending on a lot of factors, and today chose to say that I'm a Reform Jew and that within that movement a woman can wear a kippah the same as a man, either wearing it or not wearing it or doing something in between. And because I am a Reform Jew, I am not bound by commandments that have no meaning or bearing on my modern life, so I chose to leave the salon and walk home without wearing my kippah. I just got a great haircut! I've been really sick and this haircut made me feel better! I feel light and happy with my haircut, and dammit, I don't want to feel humble or grounded as I walk home. That's where I'm at today, and I fully anticipate that my reasons will probably be renegotiated this next year. May I always be flexible in deciding what I do or don't want to do. Stay tuned.

My First Israeli Haircut

So my hair has been bugging me for a while now. I've been regretting not getting it cut shorter before I left the States, and it has grown so much since I've been here (apparently your hair grows a lot faster when it is sunny and hot). The problem has been where can I go where someone speaks good English and also charges reasonable fees. The only recommendations I've received have come from men who go to barbers, and pretty much all the men have gotten their hair cut by Yacov and, well, they all kind of look alike now. So a few of the New Yorkers among us sent me to a small shop down Azza. An HUC student was there waiting to get a cut with the man who speaks good English, and although the prices weren't really what I was looking for, I decided to go for the English speaker over somewhat trivial costs, knowing that I was only going to get the barbershop cut for the barbershop price. I love the men who are students at HUC, but I'll pass on looking like them. So I got to watch the student/friend get her haircut and felt very confident that I would receive the same care and attention. It felt very Eurochic, with metrosexual men and everything. It was Jerusalem trying hard to be Tel Aviv but not quite making the cut. I got what I wanted, plus some I think -- the right length and the right layers, although he made these weird random long pieces -- too Eurochic for me -- and so he cut them off at the end and I was on my way. The experience was very big city American as I lost count of how many times I turned down money making offers from the metrosexuals. Yes, my hair has become more brittle since being here (apparently sandstone is in the water which causes damage), but I will continue using my Pantene 2 in 1 and some spray on conditioner until I get back Stateside and get fed some more of the same bullshit by the stylists in Los Angeles. Some things never change and truly are universal.

I Am Finally Returning From The Dead

So about 10 days ago I got really sick. Apparently I'd been harboring some funky bacteria/parasites in my GI tract and then I also got a bad case of the flu, all at the same time. I can't remember the last time I was so sick for so long -- totally miserable. Rachel is wonderful as always, and skipped 2 days of ulpan to stay home and take care of me (it is a big deal to miss 2 consecutive days of ulpan). There is a good, reputable medical clinic in Jerusalem that has English speaking doctors, and so I went there and saw a very good doctor. Labs showed one of my medications I take regularly was too high, I'm anemic, dehydrated and needed antibiotics. Rachel left for the states Friday morning, and I chose to stay home and get some of my energy back Friday and Saturday, and I went out today for the first time since last Friday except for the day I went to the doctor. Having absolutely no obligations or commitments is a very cool thing in times like this. So I'm back, and I've already posted some new pictures on DropShot of the egalitarian section of the Western Wall as well as pictures of our day trip to Tel Aviv. I haven 't put captions on yet because DropShot redid their website and I don't know how to do some basic things yet. Oh, and I'm now on Facebook, so check me out. No matter how old I get or what country I'm living in, I still find that I want my Mama to be around to take care of me when I'm sick. I hope I can pass this feeling on to my own kids someday.

Profiling and Bigotry Know No Borders

Profiling is wrong. It is wrong no matter where you are and no matter how much you might not like the person being profiled. In Washington, DC, having come from the naivety and innocence of small town life, I didn't really understand what "driving while black" meant at first. When I would pass a car pulled over by several police officers and see that the inhabitants of that car were all black, I found it interesting and curious but never really thought that it was intentional. For a while I would even guess before I saw the color of the skin of the people in the car whether they were black or white. I quickly saw that it was a stupid game to play because 9 times out of 10 the people were all black. It disgusted me more and more as I lived more and more years in DC. When we moved out to Silver Spring we saw the same thing happening -- profiling -- to Mexican and Central American people. Too many police present for a routine traffic stop and people of color sitting in the cars or on the curbs looking like deer caught in headlights, scared for what this would mean for their lives, their futures, their families, their livelihoods. The one thing people of color cannot do is ask questions about why they were pulled over, why they are being interrogated, why their car is being searched. why there are so many officers present. Why no questions? We remember Rodney King.

Rachel and I were out at the grocery store late one night in Silver Spring. We were stopped next to a Montgomery County Police cruiser with a white female officer inside. We sat and watched as she typed in the license plate numbers of the cars around us into her computer, obviously hoping to find a reason to make a traffic stop. As we turned at the light she turned with us and we watched as she, with great ease, continued typing in number after number. Did I fail to mention that license plate numbers entered belonged to cars driven by people of color? So what might one say in reaction to all of this? Leave America! Go abroad to another country where things are better. Go to where 'isms are not institutionalized nor internalized or have not had time to do so.

Well, that's kind of what we did when we came to Israel. Except I quickly saw one of my favorite sayings "same shit different day" alive and well here in Israel, except it makes more sense here to say "same shit different country." Our first week here we were walking down Emek Refaim in the German Colony one evening, and we came upon a young Arab woman dressed trendy-traditional who had been stopped by several female Israeli military police. They were looking at all of her IDS, radioing information to someone else. The woman looked scared and mortified, and I couldn't tell if the police were trying to provoke those feelings in her or whether they were simply doing their jobs. I wanted so badly to go up to the young woman and tell her how sorry I was that she was having to go through that public embarrassment. But the last thing I would do is come between an Israeli officer and an Arab engaged in a dispute. Today I was out walking near the Old City. There was a random group of police officers, and who had been stopped by them? Yes, a young Arab woman dressed trendy-traditional, looking scared and mortified. Again, my initial reaction was to go up to her and apologize for all the wrongs in the world that affect so many different people. But all I could do was keep walking, not wanting to attract any extra attention to my harmless self.

I know that in a lot of ways, it's not the white male MPD officer's fault that he feels compelled to randomly stop black people. He's been taught to do that since he was a baby. Sadly, though, most police officers like him will never try and break out of the institutionalized and internalized racism that has been present in every day of their lives. Who really wants to give up privilege without gaining something more than self respect back? I believe that not all Israeli's are anti-Arab and want all Arabs to die. But there are some who do, and those beliefs seem to have been internalized by, for example, the IDF. I have heard friends here say that soldiers have to make themselves hate Arabs, otherwise how would they be able to do their jobs. When you are taught to feel a certain way, far more people will adopt that way of thinking than not. It is difficult and scary to stand up for others and as a result stand up for yourself. I don't believe that all Nazis truly detested Jews. Some had to do so to save their own lives and be able to fulfill their horrid job descriptions. Rachel is back in the states for a week. She just told me that when she and her classmate were waiting for a taxi Friday morning, one finally stopped, but when the driver saw that they were going to the airport he told them to go with someone else who is not Arab like he was because there are 3 roadblocks Arab taxi drivers have to go through before being able to drop off folks at the terminal. He said it would take too long.

So this kind of brings me to my final thoughts. Many Israeli's would say that the security wall is horrible and that they want to be able to live in peace with Arabs. But they will also say that since the wall was put up and new security measures were put in place, Israel has been safe and quiet for about 3 years in regards to terrorist attacks, excluding the war with Hezballah of course. I value freedom and civil liberties, but I also value safety and security -- I value my life and the lives of others. Why do we have to choose? It's a guilt ridden choice for me to make. Can we have both? In America, Israel, Europe, etc.? It seems to me like the Bush administration argues that in order to preserve freedom and liberty, we must brutalize the rest of the world for no good reason, never really stopping to look for better tactics or solutions. This seems like something thought up by a neanderthal. Okay, it was. Israeli's like Americans because of our modern and hip culture and because they think we don't like Arabs and Palestinians, ultimately, I think, because they are Muslim, and of course all Muslims are terrorists. This is not why I want to be liked. Coming from the states with my own internalized dislike of Arabs and Muslims, thanks to American media, I had high hopes that my thoughts and feeling on the Arab-Israeli conflict would be altered in such a way that I would be much more in the grey than in the black and white. I think that is happening, and that makes me very happy. I hope to be able to write about this subject many more times this next year, each time being different from the last, but each time evolving and keeping me in the middle. In this part of the world, 10 months is a very long time, and I hope that the events which shape my views on this issue during the next 10 months come out of progress and not tragedy.

Black and White -- My Two New Least Favorite Colors

I wrote this post about 10 days ago (8/9), never finished it and never sent it, so I am posting it now. I'm not in a place today where I need to talk about black and white thinking, but trust me, being in Jerusalem will trigger feelings, probably in the next week, so stay tuned.

I've been in a bit of a slump since last week which is why you haven't heard from me I guess. The middle of last week I had a few days where I felt kind of homesick, lonely and sad. Part of me feels like it might have been a natural reaction to the acupuncture treatment I had just a day or so before, the first I've had in about two months. Since then I've been feeling incredibly bored. You might be thinking, well Amy, there's plenty to keep you busy in Jerusalem. I didn't mention the second part of how I was feeling: extremely unmotivated. So combine bored with unmotivated and you've got yourself an Amy who sat around a lot doing nothing, walked around the small apartment too much, checked my email every few minutes, etc. etc. The smallest task seemed too big, and I kept putting things off even though doing them would alleviate boredom to some extent and stop Rachel from nagging to a large extent. But I have been a consistently good wife, doing most of the cooking, cleaning, dishes, laundry, packing Rachel's lunch, etc.

So it seems like what happened is that I transitioned from homesick/lonely/sad to really feeling annoyed with and angry at Jerusalem society and culture, and now I'm kind of stuck there. Stuck on the black/white thinkers and sexism parts the most, although there are others. Here's a few examples of sexism that I have experienced. I posted an ad on Janglo (Jerusalem Anglo's), a Craigslist type forum for English speakers living in Israel, saying that I am interested in hourly or part time work. I got a response from "Schmoving" asking if I am a boy or a girl. I replied "a woman, actually, not that it matters" and then sent another reply asking if "Schmoving" means it is a moving company." He responds "Yes, and if you were a boy we could maybe hire you." I replied that "I'm stronger than many men, your loss" and his final response was "It is very simple; schlepping in a moving company is not suitable for women" and he said he couldn't figure out from my email what my gender is or he never would have responded to my post (Ami is a common name here for both males and females, and people equate Amy with Ami, thus confusing some people). Whatever. This pissed me off so much -- my immediate reaction was how can I start a women only moving company in Jerusalem and try to steal all of Schmoving's clients! Another example is how people, men mostly, react to me, a woman, wearing a kippah. Religious people don't say anything, or at least they haven't yet, they just stare rudely. Secular Israelis are another story. I guess it's been twice now that while in the shuk, I walk up to a kiosk and start talking to the owner and/or employees. They clearly know from the time I walked up to them and started talking to them that I am woman. Both times one of the men will ask me if I am a man or woman, I say back "What the fuck do you think" and they then look at my chest and say "Woman." It's amazing how backwards Israel is in some ways. I will say I've also had great experiences where, in the shuk, to stick with the same example, I've had many men acknowledge my kippah and acknowledge Reform Judaism, progression, modernity and a "the times they are a changin'" mentality. These are breaths of fresh air in a city that operates in many dominant ways in a black and white paradigm. There is so little gray here. And this is coming from a person who has a tendency to be very black or white, all or nothing. I feel that even though there are a lot of secular Jews in Jerusalem, they still allow the religious community to establish all of the social norms. In my opinion, Mea She'arim is like Disney World -- it's not really real, it's like living in a fantasy world and you can walk through and look at all the craziness but realize as you exit the park that it needs to stay behind, that it has no real place in the larger world. Would we let Mickey Mouse dictate our social norms?

So It's Not An Act of G_D....

I went for my first appointment with my new acupuncturist this morning. It was about a 40 minute walk and hadn't gotten too hot yet. I didn't get lost although found it difficult to enter the building from the correct place. She was great, the appointment, treatment and location were great, it felt very familiar with my practitioner and treatments back in Silver Spring. I have not had a treatment for about 2 months and I have been able to tell for a while now. Knowing that she can help me this next year and feeling like I am being taken care of is a wonderful feeling. Anyway, about that act of G_d. Yesterday I posted about the weather and how heat waves can be broken without rain. My acupuncturist has been living in Jerusalem since 1983 so she knows the seasons and patterns quite well. She explained to me that strong increases in wind is what breaks heat waves here. She pointed out that it was a bit windy Saturday evening and as a result was a few degrees cooler yesterday than Saturday and that the same thing happened last night -- more wind and thus a few degrees cooler today than yesterday. I also asked her about the seasons, temperature and weather patterns in Jerusalem (it is important to note that she has seen global warming in action, namely seen by less and less annual rainfall). The summer/hot/dry months account for about half the year, approximately May-September. The first rain is often on Sukkot depending on how early or late it is and seems to be Washington, DC style -- rainy and cool or sunny and hot. Either the sukkah gets blown apart at some point or you sit it in sweating and miserable. October and November are moderate to cool temperature wise (upper 50s-lower 70s) and have sporadic rain, with the rain increasing the closer it gets to December. Rain increases and temperatures drop in December, and January and February are the coldest, wettest and most miserable months. March and April are somewhat similar to October and November -- mostly moderate temperatures and slowly decreasing amounts of rain. Come Passover, like Sukkot, the weather quickly changes and it is suddenly becomes hot, dry and sunny summertime. I'm just relieved that I will be able to wear all of the long sleeve shirts and pants I brought. I guess I was in denial that summer lasts a good 5 months as I didn't bring as many summer clothing choices as I should have. I've only been here 6 weeks, and it already seems strange to me that in another few months I will have to actually pay attention to the forecast so I know if I need to wear my rain jacket or not. But for now, the wind is slowly doing it's thing, and hopefully by the end of the week I'll be able to wear long sleeve or a jacket in the evening, just like it's meant to be in Jerusalem.

So What Exactly Breaks A Heat Wave In Jerusalem?

So it has been extremely hot for the past week or so. 100 degree days, 80 degree nights, barely a hot breeze if any breeze at all, actual humidity, blistering sun and sweating so much that I think I'm kind of dehydrated. At Shabbat dinner a few of us were talking about what actually breaks a heat wave in Israel. In the States, where it is humid in probably 80% of the country all summer, those dreaded yet wonderful evening thunderstorms are what usually breaks all of those heat waves, at least for a little bit if not for a few days. We all dread the chance that we will lose power, airports become chaotic with canceled flights and disgruntled passengers and we often get drenched as we are caught out in the sudden downpour. But the beauty of it is that once the storms move out of the area it can often be quite cool and a little breezy. We are all used to this as we spend year after year in certain parts of the States. It is pretty much all I've known since the same thing happens in Barboursville, Athens and WDC. So as we all talked on Friday night we none knew what breaks a heat wave here. I was joking that when I had checked the long range forecast for Jerusalem, which covered 5 days, the first 4 days had a great big sun on it and really hot temperatures, while the 5th day had a great big sun on it and a few little clouds. Maybe that's the breaker here in Israel. It is almost always clear, blue skies here all summer, so seeing a few clouds on the extended forecast was interesting to me. I went out today, mid afternoon, to meet Rachel so we could run some errands. We noticed as we were out that the sky was becoming a bit overcast with some passing clouds. The wind had picked up some and I said to Rachel that it really feels like it is going to rain. We live in a land of miracles, so to speak, and there's a better chance that some would repeat themselves before we would get a random storm in the middle of summer here in Jerusalem. I am curious enough now about how a heat wave in Jerusalem breaks, so if I find anything interesting out I'll let y'all know. All I really care about right now is the temperature here returning to the mid 80s during the day and the wonderful, cool and breezy mid 60s at night.

New Photos & Video

For all you baseball fans out there, go to our DropShot page (link is on the top left hand side of the blog) and check out photos and video from the IBL - Israel Baseball League game we attended at Gezer Field on the grounds of Kibbutz Gezer. No need to say more here as the photos, videos and captions pretty much sum it all up. We were a part of history in the making as this is the inaugural season of the IBL.

But We Don't WANT a Third Temple to be Built

Note: I started to write this post about a week ago and am finishing it right now.

I intended to write a post last night at the conclusion of Tisha B'Av, but we ended up having friends over who stayed late, and it was a wonderful evening, so I decided to go to bed and write something today. We have been trying to get together for weeks, it seems, and decided we would break the fast together. I didn't fast, and don't fast, because of medical issues. Rachel, experiencing her first Tisha B'Av in Israel which was very different from her experiences growing up (I will try to get her to write about that), fasted from sundown until the conclusion of Mincha services the next day, when the mourning period was over for her. Our friend made delicious lasagna which we all managed to polish off. I had run out a few hours earlier and bought a melon and some parve brownies, not thinking that it is almost impossible to make lasagna without cheese. But the brownies were actually really good, so no harm done there. So Erev Tisha B'Av began Monday at sundown. Rachel and I joined with many of her other classmates and other SOs in a garden area towards the back of the HUC grounds. It is a lovely area. We had Havdallah and a dessert reception there two Shabbats ago. There is an amazing view of the Old City walls, and sitting there for services where we remember the destruction of the 1st and 2nd Temples, where within those walls that we looked at during the services is the Western Wall, the only part of the 2nd Temple to survive, was a deeply moving experience. Most people sat on the ground, one of the customs of Tisha B'Av. Since we are all in mourning we are not supposed to be happy or comfortable. To save my back discomfort I opted to sit on a chair along with several others. The service began with the singing of "By the Rivers of Babylon" from Psalm 137. It went like this: By the waters, the waters of Babylon. We lay down and wept, and wept for thee Zion. We remember thee, we remember thee, remember thee, Zion." The melody was so beautiful and moving. A rabbinic student played guitar and a cantorial student led us in song, at one point being broken up in 3 groups, each group singing a different line. It really sounded a lot like an African-American spiritual. It went on for some time and then the service proceeded. I kind of hung out on the waters of Babylon for most of the service, meditating on the words and melody of this short yet powerful prayer. I kept glancing slightly to my right to see the Old City. When the service ended, a Rabbi at HUC who is also a professional tour guide and takes students regularly on guided tour, took us to the Old City. We walked and stopped right beside the perimeter wall and he gave us some information and taught us a song. I was too busy watching cats chasing each other and all but climbing the actual wall to pay much attention to the group. We then walked to visit the tomb of King David within the Old City. There were a lot of people there praying and reflecting.

The group then got to actually walk on the walls of the Old City which was really cool, proceeding towards the Kotel Plaza and Western Wall. From the time we walked from HUC to the time when we arrived at the Plaza there were throngs of all "types" of people -- secular Israelis, religious Israelis, ultra Orthodox, black-hats, reform, liberal and progressive Jews like us, large groups of high school and college aged kids on organized trips to Israel, etc., etc. The Kotel Plaza was PACKED -- it was amazing to see so many people in one place for one main reason, that reason being to mourn the loss of the 2nd Temple, although there were huge differences in how people felt about whether or not a 3rd Temple should be built.

So about that 3rd Temple.... Reform Jews use the word "temple," because they consider every one of their meeting places to be equivalent to, or a replacement for, The Temple. I will quote/summarize an article written by a Rabbi on www.kolel.org: The real question that Ezekiel's description of the rebuilt Temple prompts is, do we want the Third Temple rebuilt, and should we? Many of the prophets who lived after the destruction of King Solomon's Temple believed that the Temple would be rebuilt, and their words were consolation to the exiles. The return to Zion and the rebuilding of the Temple were often mentioned together, and while the former has come true in our lifetime, the latter has not. There are serious political and pragmatic difficulties with building a third (Jewish) temple on the site of the present Al Aksa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock, and most liberal Jews (and I would hazard a guess that even some Orthodox too) understand the rebuilding of the Temple metaphorically. But not everyone thinks this is just poetry. Undeterred by the physical and historical realities, today there exist (Jewish and Christian) zealous messianic groups (such as the Temple Mount Faithful in Jerusalem) that are actively preparing for the day (coming soon, they believe) when the Temple will be restored, and the Temple service, as described by the Torah and Ezekiel will be reinstituted. They are busy building the artifacts for the Temple so we'll be ready, and even though they are basing their efforts on the Torah's descriptions, there are technical terms whose meaning scholars do not understand, materials we do not have, and measurements that we are not sure of. (The fact that Ezekiel's regulations contradicts with the Torah's version is problematic, but a separate issue). And in case you think praying for the sacrifices is only for extremists, even your not so radical, average, moderate, modern Orthodox Jew prays for the restoration of the Temple every day. Conservative Jews read about the Temple and the sacrifices, but the newest Conservative prayerbook changes the Shabbat Musaf prayer to refer to the sacrifices as something in the past, not hoped for in the future. Only Reform and Reconstructionists have deleted these references from the prayerbook. But it is not only the denominations that draw these lines. According to the Rabbis, after the destruction of the Temple, prayer (avodah shebalev- the service of the heart) replaces the sacrifices. But the question is: does it permanently replace it (a la Maimonides) or is it a temporary substitute while we nostalgically remember the incense and the blood on the altar. Many rabbis use the 'gradual approach': the Israelites were accustomed to pagan practice and weren't yet sophisticated enough to understand abstract prayer so God instituted korbanot as a 'concession'. Some use this same argument, for example, to suggest that the laws of kashrut are really to wean us from meat, a kind of proto-vegetarianism. Leviticus is about sacrifices, but what we believe about the sacrifices and the Temple cuts to the core of our approach to Judaism. Since God doesn't change, and God's words don't change, some would like their Judaism to not change either. But history marches on, and hopefully our understanding matures. Either the earlier version of Judaism is/was perfect and shouldn't change, or it is an evolving, historical conversation between humanity and the Divine.

Okay, back to our Erev Tisha B'Av journey. After going through security we entered the Kotel Plaza. It was packed with all kinds of people from the groups I mentioned earlier, and throngs of others as well. I stayed towards the back of the Plaza and took pictures and video. I had no interest in fighting my way through the crowd and then trying to push past women to get to the actual wall. It sure is easier for men to pray there as their space is so much bigger (I pray that the separation will someday change). I'm also not the type of person who prays at the Wall because I'm supposed to and everyone else is doing it. I want a really spontaneous, grounding and spiritual experience when I pray at the Wall. I could see a difference in the demeanor of, for example, more secular Israelis and more religious Israelis. The more secular were sitting, leaning, talking and laughing while the more religious came to pray and left quickly, usually not talking or laughing while they walked with others. It was after 11pm when we left the Plaza and walked home, and the crowds seemed to be getting bigger. Apparently the ultra religious sometimes sleep at the wall.

The Rabbi/tour guide who led us throughout the evening told us many interesting things about the Kotel Plaza. It did not become segregated by sex until two years after the establishment of the State of Israel. Until that time, the area surrounding the Kotel was open and not "owned" by one particular brand of Jews. Today, the Western Wall is considered a synagogue and run by an ultra orthodox sect and has Torah scrolls on the men's side. The Conservative Movement went to the Supreme Court of Israel and won the right to establish an egalitarian section at Robinson's Arch off to the right of what we all think of when we think of the Wall. An interesting aside is that the Reform Movement refused to join the suit because we decided "all or nothing" -- either we all are allowed to pray together at the Kotel or not. It is against the law for a woman to wear a tallit at the Wall and is punishable by fines and 7 years in prison. The Rabbi/tour guide has been a part of several mixed sex services at the Plaza -- they were screamed at by the ultra religious incessantly -- the man reading from the Torah stopped at one point and touched the back of his head which was bleeding due to a thrown rock -- once they stopped praying the protesters completely lost interest and went back to their own praying. The Rabbi/tour guide envisions a "Million Ema March" where the Plaza and Wall are swamped with elderly Jewish women, challenging the police as they are arrested and sent to jail for 7 years!!!

Don't forget to subscribe to our blog so that you receive notice when we post new things. Also, check out the photos and videos on DropShot -- the link is on the blog -- that I took at the Kotel Plaza on Tisha B'Av.