Israel – Page 2 – Don't Gel Too Soon

JERUSALEM DIARY DAY 11: ACTUALLY WE’RE IN TEL AVIV IN THE “COOL” NEIGHBORHOOD (OF COURSE) OF NEVE TZEDEK

This little cafe, NINA, is also home to a small hotel owned by a young woman named Aliza. One of the pioneer establishments in the gentrifying neighborhood of Neve Tzedek, it’s full of the sorts of scenes you would expect in an area that was almost gone and is returning to a lively street and commercial life.

Here’s a bad photo of the room – I’ll post an improved one tomorrow. It’s a little apartment with a sleeping loft and a kitchen. Adorable.

This is the oldest neighborhood in Tel Aviv, just blocks from the sea. As you can see, there’s lots going on , even on a Thursday night – from book store readings to the odd practice of staging wedding photos posed against the industrial landscape here.

We’re going tomorrow to the drum circle on the beach and a crafts show with our friends. It’s nice to be in a modern city after all that time in Jerusalem – as moving as it is it’s also confining in an odd way. I have described the Jerusalem/Tel Aviv comparison as really Red State-Blue State and I think I’m right. Culturally, politically, sartorially and philosophically they are like Salt Lake City versus New York City. Both have their charms and represent parts of the Jewish whole but boy are they different. Goodnight from the Bluest state in the Middle East.

JERUSALEM DIARY 2.0 – DAY TWO (CORRECTED): THE SOTAH, THE HEBREW AND THE MEANDERINGS OF THE DAY

Isn’t this funny? We passed it walking home from dinner tonight and I just thought I’d share it. We’ve had quite a day, one that I’ve already written about once and then, somehow, allowed the post to be devoured by the ethers of the Internet. I’m going to try again but far more briefly as it’s getting late.

First, here’s my daily security photo – from outside the coffee shop where we had breakfast. And yes, this young man is patrolling THE MALL with a machine gun.

After that well-guarded breakfast we went to our first class of this trip at Pardes, a wonderful educational entity that’s tough to describe and even tougher not to love. Our teacher today, as she was last year, was Tovah Leah Nachmani (she’s on the left.) She’s an inspired and inspiring teacher and we had a blast discussing the laws of the Sotah (a woman accused of adultery) and, according to the Book of Numbers (Bamidbar), what should happen to her. You can read it here – beginning with verse 11. It’s fairly horrifying on first (or second or third) reading but this time we ended up with an unusual perspective.

Tovah sent us out with our Chevruta (study partner – mine was my husband) to try to figure out what the commentators were asking themselves as they wrote about this passage -and how they answered. As we did so, a strange perspective emerged. SEE DAY THREE POST FOR IMPORTANT CORRECTION TO THIS: Basically,it seems that asking a woman accused of adultery to stand before God to be judged (the only time God concerned Himself in this way with the laws of men), to drink water mixed with dirt from the Temple floor and the ashes of the burned paper accusing her, and then to wait to see if her belly swelled up or not (yes was a sign of guilt) seems to subjecte her to something both terrifying and humiliating. But once past that, even if she was guilty, there was no physical punishment, only a mandated divorce – and her lover was also punished. SEE DAY THREE POST FOR IMPORTANT CORRECTION TO THIS

There’s more to it though: if his possibly adulterous wife stands before God to be judged, no husband however outraged is going to play God and punish her himself -by killing her ashe could in so many other cultures or even by beating her. The ordeal in fact protects her from worse. In addition, it’s clear to all that the preservation of the family was so important that only God could adjudicate when it was so jeopardized.

There’s lots more to it but it’s really late. Suffice it to say that it was exciting to learn how much more lay behind this disturbing ritual. Even so, it’s all of a piece. )Our hair is dangerous, our voices are dangerous, even the potential for adulterous behavior is dangerous. WE are dangerous. And it’s not, mostly, for what we might do but for what we might cause to be done that is the big issue. Granted, the Sotah has to have been formally warned in advance by her husband that she shouldn’t hang around alone with a specific man he suspects of having designs on her – and she can only be tried if she has done just that, but even so, these rules don’t apply equally to husbands.

One of the most valuable things I’ve learned in the couple of years since I began studying this stuff, however, is that you can’t read it only from the perspective of the present. The culture of the times is a critical variable in the mission and outcome of divine commandments and their enforcement. And of what we can allow ourselves to learn as we read.

Enough already. We also had an amazing walk around the city, bought me an orange hat and had a three hour Hebrew lesson. But that’s for another day. Goodnight for now… and, as I learned today – erev tov.

JERUSALEM DIARY 2.0 – DAY ONE: LIVING WITH SECURITY -EVERY MINUTE, EVERY DAY

This is the Jerusalem we all love to imagine, and there’s plenty of it that’s just like that. Usually, that’s where we spend most of our time — biblical Jerusalem. It’s thrilling.

This time, though, we’re here to study, and for the first time, instead of staying in a hotel, we’re in an apartment in a real neighborhood (Bak’ah for those of you who know it). We arrived this afternoon after flying from 5 PM Monday DC time through to 2:30 PM Tuesday Jerusalem time. That’s a total of 14.5 hours with the layover in Frankfurt. So, exhausted and eager to get to bed, we spent the evening wandering around the neighborhood instead of going immediately to the Old City as we have in the past.

We needed coffee, milk and some other things so we stopped first at the supermarket just blocks from our "house." But guess what? Before we could get inside, we were stopped at the door, my bag was searched and we were sort of assessed before entering. Nicely, matter-of-factly, but for real. I took this photo of the security guys on the sly, that’s why it’s so blurry. But there you are. Need apple juice? Prepare to have the diaper bag searched.

Bags in tow, we went on to dinner at a wonderful grill/salad place. There are photos of both the salads and the place on the left, but guess what? Before we could go in we had to check in with the guard at the entrance. He asked me not to take his picture, but he was there. Hungry? Meeting friends for coffee? Prepare to be checked out not by the cuties at the next table, but by the guard at the door.

Wandering around after dinner, we found a sweet coffee place. Everyone was sitting outside; the traffic was buzzing by beyond the sidewalk, the coffee was great and we were in a great place – living a neighborhood life in another country — one of particular importance to us. But guess what? The coffee place is part of a local mall, along with a drugstore and some not-very-expensive (almost cheap) apparel stores. And guess who were sitting outside the doors, on stools, on the sidewalk? Yup – security guards. A quick check of our bags of coffee and bottled water, and of my back pack, and we were good to go. But there you are. Going for diapers or hand lotion? Prepare to be searched at the door.

I’m not writing this to complain. Today I just felt, in a different way, what it’s like to live here. Whatever your politics, the idea of a people so under siege that no grocery store or bowling alley or retail mall can exist without security guards checking everyone who enters, is creepy and sad. I know, I know, a grave portion of our globe is at some kind of risk. And I’d probably react the same way witnessing their struggles. But this is where I am, this is where I’ve come to study, this is where I look into the eyes of mothers in the baby food aisle and old ladies squeezing tomatoes and crews of students buying up unthinkable quantities of fast food. And as they move through their lives, relief from their sense of danger, of vulnerability, is possible, sustainable, only until the next time they walk out the front door. And that’s a hell of a way to live.

WELCOME TO NABLOPOMO! HOW I SOLVED THE SABBATH PROBLEM

This is a very exciting undertaking – a blog post a day for thirty days! A little scary, but exciting. For me though, it offered an extra challenge, one that forced me to drop out last year. I can’t work on the Sabbath. Every Saturday I observe Orthodox rules about the kindling of light, whether it be a spark plug in a car, a doorbell or a reading lamp. God told us to rest, and every Sabbath we pray the He be "please with our rest." It’s a pretty big thing. And it’s lovely; beginning with the lighting of Sabbath candles on Friday night and then a festive dinner. I’ve come to love the peace of it even though before we began our observant life I thought it was nuts. It was a great lesson in not prejudging. Ever.

So of course, there was no way that I could post on Saturdays. I can’t use the computer. Fortunately, technology solved the problem. I figured out that if it’s ok to use timers for the dining room lights (it is) then I could set a timer for my post. I’m writing each Saturday post in advance and setting it to be posted on Saturday morning. And I’ll be in Israel for almost half the month so this will also be a great diar. I’m looking forward to this.

JERUSALEM DIARY – ALMOST THE END

It’s Saturday night – Shabbat in Jerusalem is over. Last night we went to amazing services at the Wall- mobs of men on their side and women on ours praying, singing and dancing. Some of it is really awesome –standing watching a circle of young women in uniform – Israeli soldiers – dancing as they pray. Other women soldiers in uniform praying with their guns over their shoulders. Little girls praying with fierce concentration – other little girls running, laughing, dancing with the women. The men equally intense and in far greater numbers. ALL to welcome the Sabbath and the peace that it brings.

We returned to the hotel for an ENORMOUS dinner and lots of songs. And laughter. There were several large parties in a huge dining room — and many were singing — tables picked up one another’s tunes and serial singing ensued. Lots of kids running around; enormous families celebrating together. I’m so sorry I can’t show you pictures but I can’t use a camera on Shabbat — you just have to use your imagination.

Today we went to services at a school where the gym is used by a congregation on Saturdays. From there we took a long walk, had lunch with our entire group and a crew of our Rabbi’s family – his sister, her husband and four kids and his cousin, her husband and 6 kids. They are lovely, interesting people – two professors, a therapist and an Alzheimer’s Center director. There were lots of others too – 35 in all – and it was a great time with speeches and arguments and laughter.

Yesterday we met for two hours with a particularly sage rabbi with a spectacular reputation that he more than lives up to. It was quite exciting.
His name is Adin Steinsaltz and he has created schools and study centers all over Israel and in other countries. He looks like a sweet rabinical elf and evokes great emotion – it’s difficult to explain why. Like a jazz musician he riffed for two hours and gathered all that he spoke of together into a remarkable synthesis at the end. I’m going to try to write more about it but just want to get this account down since the ridiculous internet arrangements at this hotel have made posting difficult.

We’re just about at the end of this trip – so busy that my posts have of necessity been short — and it’s been a remarkable journey. I’m hoping to write in more detail when I can. Goodnight for now.

Something there is that doesn’t….

We had a lovely day. It began at the Kotel (Wailing Wall) at 7:30. The guys prayed on their side of the Wall and Lea, the rabbi’s daughter, and I prayed on the women’s side. She’s 7 and knows all the prayers cold – helped me as I’m the newbie and still learning. I don’t want to post her picture for kid privacy reasons but here’s what the scene looked like.

The Men’s Side

The Women’s Side

Then we went wandering. Where?

Sign inside Uri’s Pizza – a tiny hole-in-the-wall that our friend took us to to get caramel jelly donuts (don’t ask!)

We also had a lovely dinner – the whole group — and crashed early. Yeah- lots to talk about about the separation of women and men. Later though. G’nite.

PIX

This has been a great day but I may be too tired to tell you about it.

So here are some photos of

A soup kitchen warehouse where volunteers organize food to feed 5000 families and prepare 300 meals a day

Their kitchen

A funny picture of Jack Abramoff

that he isn’t in.

And some pretty flowers on the edge of the wall overlooking Old City excavations.

More tomorrow.

THE WEST WING AND THE MIDDLE EAST

They carry West Wing re-runs in Israel. I’m sitting here on a break between a day of walking through this holy city and dinner watching and crying. Can’t believe it. It’s the one where Mrs. Lanningham dies – a sad one, yes – but as my husband just said to me – “It’s a television show.” He’s right of course – but not exactly.

Since the end of the Clinton administration, the West Wing hour was the only hour I felt like I had a president I could count on. Seeing it here so long after the show ended and Bravo stopped running it was a real ambush moment. Just reminded me how much I grieve for all I’ve thought should be… and how very much I feel we’ve failed. Talking with our Israeli friends about not so hard; their own sense of despair over the state of this country brought it all back. I’ll get over it…

Before my weeping incident it was a lovely day today. Early morning at the Kotel – me and the rabbi’s 7-year-old daughter on the women’s side and all the guys on the men’s. It was sunny and cool and the city glows in the morning. Of course it’s unsettling to pass through metal detectors to pray but once you’re there, it’s quite an experience.

We had a great breakfast back at the hotel, then went walking with our friend Asher. We spent a couple of hours exploring the Mehane Yehuda market – crammed with vegetables and spices; meat, cheese, sneakers and clogs, sweaters, hats, nuts, loose tea, bottled water and almost anything else you’d want to buy. Asher took us from there to his old neighborhood Nachlaot, historic old houses off narrow streets.. strands of flowers hanging off some of the roofs and historic plaques decorating the walls.

So there it is – another day in Israel — the ridiculous, the sublime and the inevitable intrusion of the political longings that even a great adventure can’t stave off forever.

SILENCE IS NOT GOLDEN

Here we are in what is supposed to be the best hotel in Jerusalem and the Internet can not get from the wall to my laptop. I’m down here in the business center just touching base but will post more when I have true access to the web, my camera etc. Sleep well everyone – Jerusalem is a huge intellectual, emotional and spiritual provocation. Will tell more later. Gnite for now. I cant’ find the apostrophe on this Israeli keyboard.

ART AND POLITICS

Just to the left is a famous mosaic of Tel Aviv scenes that’s stood in the middle of town since the early 70s. We went with our friends Joel and Nurith to the Nahum Gutman Museum and saw photos of the work, which I loved. Naturally, Joel immediately decided that we had to go see it. And we did. It’s a dear. lovely, loving and evocative work of the three columns you see here, surrounded by a ring of more scenes that serves as a kind of frame — really lovely.

The museum currently features a retrospective of the work of Duda Geva, an Israeli cartoonist who died recently, quite young. His work was kind of disconcerting; much of it joking about the absence of God. He appeared prominently in Israeli newspapers — and the tiny museum was jammed. It’s so fascinating, in a Jewish country, that this very secular man had such a wide following. Typical of the enigmatic nature of Israel in the 21st century – battling between the disproportionately powerful 15% who are super-orthodox and the rest of the country and of the frightful battle for the soul of the country between militant, militaristic right and the progressives. There is such pain and despair — on both sides. I’m going to try to write about it some here in future posts — after two years in progressive and highly secular Tel Aviv we go to Jerusalem tomorrow where religion and more conservative politics rule.