Calm

The thing that I like most about Women of the Wall is the walk to get there. There are no buses that take you from Mount Scopus to the Old City; you have to go to Jaffa Rd and then walk from there. This means that a trip to the Kotel involves walking all the way through the Old City at a time of morning when nothing’s open and no one’s there. All the shops that are usually open are closed, all the streets that are usually crowded are completely empty. It’s peaceful. And then you arrive at the Kotel and see all these men and women davening, and all these police cars parked right outside the guard station, and you’re ready to pray. You’re ready to combat the Haredim with your prayer, your love for their hate.

This entry is not really about Women of the Wall, though. I am currently lying on a bed at Kibbutz Yahel, a Reform kibbutz in the Negev, taking a few precious moments between dinner and our campfire. This Shabbat seems to be about a similar kind of calm. We’re out of the city and into the desert, where there’s really nothing around us other than lots of sand, a bit of grass, and the people who live on the kibbutz. I’m also singing and listening to songs that I haven’t heard since camp, and other songs that I haven’t heard since AHA—and even without the words in the book (because Mishkan Tefila was written as a prayerbook, not a songbook), somehow I still remember the words to these songs I haven’t heard since 2001. It’s the peace of nostalgia that I’m feeling right now; even though I know I was never really happy at camp, these songs bring back fond feelings. I came on this Shabbaton because it was a chance to take a Shabbat away from Jerusalem, but I think instead I’m refinding Reform Judaism. Not that I’m going to come away from this Shabbaton a Reform Jew—I’m not—but I’m reminding myself that there are parts that I really like, parts that I really loved as a little kid, and maybe I can recall those images when I think of Reform Judaism rather than thinking of congregations that do yartzeits based on English dates and close down for the summer.

Secular holidays

Israel's a bit odd in that most Israeli holidays are also Jewish religious holidays. In the States there are a bunch of secular holidays: MLK Day, President's Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Columbus Day, Veteran's Day, and Thanksgiving according to Wikipedia. In Israel there are only five (Yitzhak Rabin Memorial Day, Holocaust Remembrance Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day, and Jerusalem Day), and of those only two are non-business days. Those two, the Big Important Israeli National Holidays were this week, Memorial Day (Yom HaZikaron) on Sunday night/Monday followed immediately by Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut) on Monday night/Tuesday.

Memorial Day is a big deal in this country. There have been so many wars that everyone knows someone or knows someone who knows someone who died in a war or a terrorist attack. I didn't attend any ceremonies, but I heard that every neighborhood has one for their own fallen along with the national ceremony which takes place at the Kotel. I didn't go to any ceremonies partly because it didn't feel right to walk in on someone else's mourning and partly because, frankly, I'm a foreign student; I don't know anyone who died and I had a lot of homework to do. Instead I listened to the radio, which played exclusively downbeat songs, probably mostly about soldiers though it was hard to tell with my poor level of Hebrew. I did catch one song that I knew from high school, though: חורף 73 (video here; English lyrics here) in which children conceived after the Yom Kippur War sing about how peace never came, no matter how much their parents promised.

Another aspect of Yom HaZikaron is that the entire country stands still in remembrance of the fallen for two whole minutes, one at 8pm and one at 11am. The minutes are marked by a very loud air raid siren; this is what it sounded like from inside my room. Interestingly, though, the radios don't shut off; I had to turn it off on my own when the siren blew.

Immediately following Yom HaZikaron is Yom HaAtzmaut, which is a totally different scene. At night, Yom HaAtzmaut is one big party: at the shuk, at clubs, in government plazas, etc. Ahuva, Alexis, Marc, Abigail, Alexis's friend Avi, and I spent the night at Ben Yehuda Street, which was packed with people dancing and singing and spraying each other with silly string. Observe:

Another big thing downtown was the selling of massive inflatable hammers. Ahuva bought two for an impromptu dual with Alexis, though there were others much bigger. No matter how much I try I can't seem to find the origin of the hammer thing, but they're Big in multiple ways.

After about an hour walking around Ben Yehuda we headed over to Gan HaAtzmaut to watch the fireworks display off the roof of the Leonardo Plaza Hotel. Surprisingly, fireworks aren't a big part of independence day in this country. Not only was the show half an hour late, but it was insanely short. Observe it in its entirety:

After the fireworks Ahuva and I went home, though Marc at least stayed out until 5am. The next morning Ahuva, Alexis and I got up early to head to Kibbutz Na'an for a traditional Israeli barbecue, which is basically what Israelis do for Yom HaAtzmaut. Not so different from American independence day, right? The big difference is that you're not eating hamburgers, hotdogs, potato chips, and coleslaw; instead, it's Israeli salads of all kinds, hummus, pitas, fries, grilled cauliflower, and as many kinds of meat as you can imagine--chicken, steak, kabob of various sorts, etc.

The big thing about the barbecue was that it was an informal AHA reunion of sorts. Kibbutz Na'an is home of Gideon Meiry, who used to be head of security for AHA, and Guido ('06). While nowhere near all the AHA alumni in Israel were there--at least two that I know of were missing--there were a good seven of us, including Alexis ('04), Ahuva ('05), Rachel Herman ('07), and myself ('07). Actually I didn't know any of the AHA people other than those I've mentioned, so it was more of an opportunity to experience Yom HaAtzmaut Israeli-style than anything.

After lunch a member of the kibbutz took us to the Kibbutz history museum, where we learned about the kibbutz before Israel existed as a country. Na'an was one of many kibbutzim that hid weapons underground, and the house that became the museum was built on top of one of the underground weapons storage rooms. It's actually pretty cool; they still have some weapons down there, along with an old morse code machine.

There are a whole bunch of other really cool things, too. For instance: an old airplane on the roof of a building on the main road, a museum set up like a pre-Israel house (yeah, that museum), and an armored vehicle outside of the museum. We also learned that no one know why the kibbutz was built where it was, because though it's high up it has absolutely no water source, which isn't good for a country where it doesn't rain. It's a big mystery.

After the tour we came back to Jerusalem and I started on my homework for Wednesday. To be honest, Tuesday day felt like the 4th of July, and I kept expecting someone to come out with a flag cake any minute. Monday night felt like a big celebration of some sort, or maybe Jerusalem turning into one big dance club. I don't know. I don't tend to pay attention to these holidays in the States (even though Hillel does do things for them), and I don't think I'm really missing out on anything. I prefer the holidays that involve Torahs and hallel and cheesecake, thank you very much--which is, of course, Shavuot, the one last holiday for which I'll be in this country.

Me'or Modi'im

I spent this Shabbat at Moshav Me'or Modi'im with Devorah and Abigail from JOH. (Well, Devorah's also a Hebrew University student, but whatever--the common link between the three of us is JOH.) We were hosted by Rabbi and Rebbitzen Trugman, who have open home hospitality Shabbats twice a month. Estie, my roommate, was given a flyer about it a while ago, and I thought it would be cool.

Me'or Modi'im is also known as the Carlebach moshav, since it was founded by Rav Shlomo Carlebach and his followers. I think this is another situation like Kibbutz Hannaton, though - they call it a moshav, but it's really (according to Wikipedia and what I saw of it) a community settlement. And that's what it is: a community of people who believe in and live by the teachings of Rav Shlomo Carlebach--or "Rav Shlomo," as they call him, because he is The All-Important Rabbi and doesn't need a last name (or they just knew him--one or the other).

It was a very pleasant, quiet Shabbat. We started out with singing niggunim before Shabbat even started. Services were not as wonderful as I'd expected, but egalitarian me isn't a fan of synagogues where the women's section is in the back to begin with, and all the ruach was up front with the guys. That's okay, though. It just means I didn't rush to get up for Shacharit this morning, nor did I go to mincha or ma'ariv.

Friday night Devorah, Abigail, and I took our sleeping bags outside to the porch, and it was really wonderful. Okay, so maybe it was a little bit hot in the sleeping bag, but it would have been worse inside and the air was so good out there. Everyone else was inside, so it felt like we were little girls having a sleepover. It was nice. We spent this afternoon on the porch, too, reading and playing bananagrams and rummy cube.

Once again, the best part was seuda shlishit. The food was wonderful, and we spent a lot of time singing--songs and nigguns with really upbeat melodies. Everyone was really into it, too, which is a nice change from what I'm used to from AHA. I'm learning the traditional Shabbat zimrot, so maybe I'll actually be able to join in when I get back to Brandeis.

The whole Shabbat was just so relaxing and pleasant. The rebbitzen told me to come again sometime, and I think I will. I liked it.

Kibbutz Hannaton

I spent this weekend at Kibbutz Hannaton, the only Masorti kibbutz in Israel, on a Shabbaton sponsored by the Fuchsberg Center for Conservative Judaism. Overall, I enjoyed the Shabbat. I met a few new people--a girl named Beverley and Eitan Marks, the brother of an acquaintance from Brandeis--and had a pretty relaxing Shabbat. Services were a lot better than last week. I led weekday Mincha for the first time since high school, and the guy who led Kabbalat Shabbat used the Carlibach melodies, which I love. The food was pretty good, too, if a bit spicy. I discovered rice with raisins in it (not one of the spicy things) and had my first ever Shabbat where seuda shlishit had the best food.

I don't quite understand what is kibbutz-like about Kibbutz Hannaton. The kibbutz recently privitized, so everyone has their own income and owns their own home and people don't eat together in the Chedar Ochel anymore. A dairy farm provides the kibbutz's income, but only one member of the kibbutz works at the farm. As far as I could see, the only communal thing is the land, and the kibbutz just happens to own this dairy farm.

Speaking of the dairy farm, we were given a tour of it on Saturday afternoon. Overall, I was impressed. When I think of farm animals I imagine those stories of chickens who can't even move their wings, but these cows had lots of room to move around. Our guide said that the cows are kept happy, if only because those commercials are true--good dairy products come from happy cows. (And happy cows come from Kibbutz Hannaton?) The only thing that really bothers me is what they do with the calves. A calf was born about twenty minutes before we got to the farm, and the workers took him away from his mother before he could even stand. Since he's male, the kibbutz won't keep him--he'll be shipped off to become somebody's hamburger or veal dinner. The poor little cow! He didn't even stand a chance. Of course, after the tour of the dairy farm, we all throughly smelled like cows. I think the bugs also thought we were cows; I have five bites on one arm alone.

I also learned a bit about teaching styles this Shabbat. Rabbi Romm, the rabbi of the Fuchsberg center and a founder of the Masorti movement, invited a rabbinical student named Adam to join us for the Shabbat. Since it was a shabbaton, there were multiple learning sessions. Before Adam started his, he said something really interesting. I've been having trouble with Rabbi Romm's lectures, and Adam pointed out why: while Adam teaches about things he finds problematic, Rabbi Romm teaches about things he finds interesting. That's why Rabbi Romm's lectures are so light, and he can go off on so many tangents--it's not that he's really wandering off topic as he's providing more "interesting" tidbits about an "interesting" subject. This is the first time I've encountered this kind of teaching; I'm used to--and I think I much prefer--shiurim about the things that are problematic.

If this trip happens every semester, I think I'd like to go again next time. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Next Shabbat--Rosh Hashana in the Old City!