Gilad Shalit Returns Home--גלעד שליט חוזר הביתה

What a day to be in Israel. I spent nearly 8 straight hours glued to the news.

As I sat in my cousin’s salon, I was transfixed, staring at the tv with countless clients, stylists, and passersby. There were moments where people cheered, and moments where everyone was silent. The moment that the headline changed to “Gilad b’yisrael’’ (גלעד בישראל=Gilad is in Israel) though, everyone just got chills.

How many times today did I watch footage of Gilad in Egyptian hands? How many times did I watch him struggle to walk down two stairs? How many times did I wonder how he got those glasses? How many times did my heart ache as I watched footage of Israelis watching footage of Gilad’s return? How many Gilad-related commercials were aired between quickly assembled montages of Gilad walking/blinking/just simply existing? How many times did I hear the news in Hebrew, to the point where I not only understood what they were saying but could accurately recite it back to you? How many times did I get butterflies in my stomach thinking about his reunion with his parents? How much did I kvell when he put his hand over his heart in the van on his way to his house, clearly touched and overwhelmed by the people/Israeli flags/flowers/support? How many tears did I shed when they showed those 3 year olds saying “gilad shalit chozer habayta!” (גלעד שליט חוזר הביתה=Gilad Shalit is returning home)? How many times did I almost giggle when Gilad went from saluting Bibi (Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli Prime Minister) to embracing him in a Voldemort—Malfoy style hug? How many times did I smile proudly hearing Bibi reference biblical passages in a modern context?

The fact is, the reunion with his parents was lukewarm at best and that initial interview was an absolute disaster.

But actually that doesn’t matter.

And today is not about how many times I did anything in the above list.

What matters as of this moment is that Gilad Shalit is home. He’s sitting in his house with [most of] his family, and he is back in Israel, no longer a prisoner of Hamas.

The fact of the matter is that yes, Gilad returned to Israel—but at a steep price. 1,027 prisoners were released so that he could come back. On the news, the excitement of the Israeli people was absolutely palpable. However, so was the enthusiasm of the 500,000 Palestinians who rallied with joy and excitement. Among those released were people who were involved in some of the most devastating attacks of the intifadas, and their lack of remorse is frightening. As Israelis chanted “Am Yisrael Chai” (עם ישראל חי=The People of Israel Live) and “Gilad Shalit Chozer Habayta” (גלעד שליט חוזר הביתה=Gilad Shalit is returning home) some of the Palestinians chanted “We want a new Shalit.” This, to me, is horrifying. The thought of over 1000 terrorists being released back into the wild (Gaza, Egypt, Turkey, East Jerusalem, etc), when combined with the statistic provided by Time.com, “Israeli officials calculate that 60% of those released resume terrorism attacks. ” http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2097192,00.html

So while I, alongside the Israelis who have missed him like they would their own brother, son, or nephew, I am thrilled to know that Gilad Shalit is back at his own dinner table as we head into Simchat Torah. I love knowing that, after 1,940 days in captivity, Gilad is now a free man. But I also recognize the bittersweetness of this day. Am Yisrael, the people of Israel, can feel fuller, more complete, once again whole. However, it is important to remember that that feeling has a cost, and that cost is a dangerous one.

Today was absolutely an information overload, and I feel the barrage of the images I saw and the words I heard time and time again. I remember losing it when I first saw the picture of Gilad and his father embracing with Bibi totally cheesing in the background (above--photo credit to Moshe Milner, GPO); Netanyahu knows what it means to lose someone, and this is absolutely a personal victory for him, today. I remember tearing up the first time I heard the brand new Arik Einstein song, written in the last 48 hours in honor of Gilad’s release (music and lyrics here--the site is in Hebrew, but it's worth listening to). I remember the delight on children’s faces (who couldn’t have been born at the time of Gilad’s capture) cheering alongside friends and family for the homecoming of this lost (misplaced?) soldier. I also remember being in Israel with my family in June and July of 2006. In the end, today was about a homecoming, not about terrorism.

I’m not a cynical person, but I think, realistically, this celebration needs to be taken with a grain of salt. Yes, we should all feel relieved that Gilad is home; what a blessing for him and his family! We also need to be aware of the cost of his homecoming, and hope that, in the end, it was worth it. Who knows, maybe the 60% statistic provided by Israeli officials is inaccurate for this particular batch? Maybe the sense of warmth and completeness that comes with the return of one (or one thousand) members of your community is enough to keep people feeling peaceful and well-wishing other members of humanity for at least the time being?

Only time will tell. I’m hoping for the best. Like I said, today was a bit overwhelming; maybe my opinion will change as the situation develops and time moves forward. For now, though, I’m so relieved and happy that Gilad is home, and I feel so lucky to have been in a situation where I could experience this momentous and joyous event in the country where it was happening.

As Bibi said this afternoon, today it is possible to say that the people of Israel live.

היום אפשר לומר שעם ישראל חי.

Welcome home, Gilad. ברוך הבא, גלעד.

Random Excursions

Wait, you mean there's more to this time of year than holidays?

We're going a wee bit out of order here, but here are some things that happened either before the holidays or between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

And also, I would like to thank all of you for reading---the blog already has more than 3000 views and I simply can't believe it. So thank you.

Alright! Let's get to the good stuff.

One key highlight to note is that the weather has finally started to change. We're getting clouds now (which makes my photography much more interesting and the periodic shade is helping the temperature feel lower even on days when it's not) so that's awesome.

Jaffa Gate at night

Since the weather has been so pleasant, it's hard not to want to be outside all the time. However, since I'm in school from 830 until 1600 or so, depending on the day, it's been hard to get outside. One night, Jessie and I took our fancypants cameras and some tripods out to Yemin Moshe, where we like to do havdallah, and we just spent some time taking pictures of the walls around the Old City. It was sooo fun, and it was a great break from being inside. The religious in Israel make the daylight savings time change in between the High Holy Days so that the day of the fast on Yom Kippur is shorter, so now it's dark around 6 and we're only 6 hours ahead of EST until they have their time change next month. It's crazy!

View of Abu Tor from Yemin Moshe

With Israel seminar we took a trip to Yad Vashem and Har Herzl recently. I went to Yad Vashem over Ulpan Break (read about that excursion here) but it is always a meaningful and interesting trip. This time, we spent about an hour in the Valley of the Communities with our teacher Jeremy, and we talked about the impact that such an exhibit can have on the collective memory of a people.

The whole day was dedicated to studying/examining collective memory and civil religion and statism. After an interesting experience with the security at Yad Vashem (5 or more people walking into the museum together constitutes a group, and each group is required to have with them an official Yad Vashem tour guide...very interesting politics of narrative going on in these Israeli museums, because they want you to hear their version of the story) we went through the museum and had more discussions.

These stones show that people have come here to visit and commemorate those who passed away in the Holocaust--an interesting and significant example of new secular sacred spaces.

After our time in Yad Vashem, we ventured onto The Connecting Path (its official title) that connects Yad Vashem with Har Herzl. Essentially, due to the topography in that part of Jerusalem, you have to make an aliyah (go up) from the Holocaust to Zionism. So interesting.

Soldiers on Har Herzl

So what is Har Herzl? Basically it is a mountain (hill) named for the first man buried there, Theodor Herzl. This man is THE man behind Zionism (at least that's how he's perceived) and he now shares his mountain with some of the great leaders of Israel and Zionism, as well as the military cemetery. For those of you keeping score, we've now gone as a class to 3 of the 4 main cemeteries in Israel (Trumpledor in Tel Aviv, Har Herzl in J'lem, and the Kinneret Cemetery). In this category, the last one remaining is where David Ben Gurion is buried in the Negev desert.

Herzl's grave

Each of these cemeteries is so different, and there's something big to be learned at each. At Har Herzl, we talked about how the space itself is being used. Herzl is all alone, surrounded by a sort of gathering area where state ceremonies of remembrance take place in the spring. Totally isolated away from him is Ze'ev Jabotinsky (I live on his street!) but we haven't learned about him or Revisionist Zionism yet--more on him later. We visited Golda Meir, Yitzhak Rabin, and others.

"Just sing a song for peace"--from Shir L'shalom, one of my favorite songs, left on the grave of Yitzhak Rabin

Like all of our field trips, I found this one to be interesting. However, because I had recently been to Yad Vashem, I found this trip to be particularly educational because I spent a considerable amount of time watching people interact with what they were seeing. Some people just wanted to get through the exhibit (something you can only do by seeing every room) and some people stood for minutes at a time, trying to soak in and process all the information. I also spent time in the last room of the exhibit, where there are quotes from survivors and poets and victims, all on different themes of the Holocaust. Some talked about love, and the bliss of the last few moments of life, and the inability to express themselves adequately on the feelings raised by the events of the Holocaust.

All in all, school is going well. We're able to confront different topics (why am I a Reform Jew? Why does Israel exist--and why here? how do we teach this to students later?) and I love that everyone comes with their own background and customs and experiences. I'm learning a lot from my classmates and from my incredible teachers, and I really feel like this is just an awesome place to be and to learn and experience what it means to be Jewish, and to be Jewish here.

High Holy Days in Israel

Wow.

I am so behind on my blog.

And there is just so much to write about.

Let's start with the High Holy Days (henceforth HHDs).

Generally, I strongly dislike the HHDs. They're hard for me theologically, and the thought of spending all day in services reciting words that I don't agree with is annoying at best. This year, though, I was determined to change my attitude and try to enjoy the experience of having the holidays in the Holy Land.

So, what can I do? First, I started by making an epic Erev Rosh Hashanah dinner (read about my cooking excursion here). It's hard to be away from my family on the HHDs, so making food just like my mom and playing host to some hungry friends was about as close as I could get. And it. was. AWESOME. Thanks to my foodie friend Benjamin, and the contributions of my lovely chaverim (חברים=friends) we absolutely feasted after services that night.

Some well-fed and festive friends.

The next morning, I joined some of my classmates for a trip to Tzur Hadassah, a community not far from Jerusalem that has a progressive congregation. We went to services (Israelis love getting to services just in time for the Torah service, which is an hour into services usually) and got to sing along with Emma, who is doing her T'ruma project (volunteering) there this year. After services I went to a Hebrew-language study session, where, unsurprisingly, we talked about tzedek chevrati (צדק חברתי=social justice) which was what we talked about all through ulpan this summer with the tent protests and calls for change in Israel. After the study session, we were hosted by different families in the community.

Absurdly huge sweet potatoes

This is where the world shrinks: I was hosted by an awesome family, and I had actually already met one of the members of said family. Ready? During ulpan, two of the classes went to the Jerusalem Bird Observatory to practice our Hebrew listening and to learn about some of the environmental efforts being made in Israel. We went at the end of July (briefly mentioned in this post) and one of the people who worked there that we met with, Alen, was actually one of my hosts! Jerusalem is a small, tiny, itty bitty world wherein all sorts of networks continually collide. Anyway, Alen and her partner, a reconstructionist rabbi, have two awesomely rambunctious kids. It was really a great day!

what's a holiday without za'atar pita chips?

One of the very coolest parts about my Rosh Hashanah experience was the afternoon of RH. I was sitting in my room with all the windows open, and I could hear shofars being blown from throughout the city. I live across the street from a hotel, and I could see an orthodox man standing outside of the hotel blowing the shofar for families as they came out of the hotel. We are commanded to hear the shofar on Rosh Hashanah, and this guy was making sure everybody got their commandments taken care of that day. It was really awesome!

Then we had all those fun days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. School was still very much in session, and there was so much last minute HHD stuff to attend to! I led shacharit (morning) services the Thursday between RH and YK, which was a great experience. Then, I had to prepare for leading a service on Yom Kippur with Jeremy and Rachel. More on that soon.

Now, for the last few years, I have either been helping lead Yom Kippur or just generally dreading it. I don't recall having a meaningful Yom Kippur in recent years; basically, I spend the day being as miserable as everyone else and just waiting for break the fast. But this year was something different.

For Kol Nidre, Friday night, I joined my class (and a lot of other people) for HUC services in Blaustein Hall--this room has an incredible view of the Old City, and it was a great place to have HHD services. I am always amazed at how talented our cantorial students are, and Kol Nidre was a great showcase of that talent. Before services, I had been at Jeremy and Sarah's for a pre-fast dinner with some friends, and at 4:30 the chag (holiday) siren went off, alerting everyone that the holiday had started. 4:30 probably seems early to you--it is--but it's because every year between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Israel goes through Daylight savings time so that it becomes dark earlier in the day and so the fast on Yom Kippur seems shorter. This is one of the craziest things about Israel--the calendar is so Jewish and so religiously affected. Anyway, I was shocked leaving Kol Nidre services at the absolute silence that surrounded us. Sure, you could hear people still in services, but there were absolutely NO cars on the streets. We literally walked down the middle of the road, and eventually some of us decided to go to the Western Wall.

Normally I like going to the Wall, but this time was a little off. There was a woman sitting near me and her phone went off, and the ringtone was Usher's "yeah!" so that was distracting. It was great seeing everyone in their holiday whites, and I was reminded of a few of Yehuda Amichai's poems. This one in particular:

On Yom Kippur 5728, the year of forgetting, I donned Dark holiday clothing and walked to Jerusalem’s Old City. I stood for quite a while in front of the kiosk shop of an Arab, Not far from Shchem (Nablus) Gate, a shopfull of buttons, zippers and spools of thread Of every color; and snaps and buckles.

Brightly lit and many colored like the open Holy Ark.

I said to him in my heart that my father too Owned a shop just like this of buttons and thread. I explained to him in my heart about all the decadesAnd the reasons and the events leading me to be here now

While my father’s shop burned there and he is buried here.

When I concluded it was the hour of N’eilah (“locking the gates”).He too drew down the shutters and locked the gate

As I returned homeward with all the other worshippers.

Having Yom Kippur here is also an interesting issue, because for many Israelis the day is not just a religious obligation--it is also a war memorial. It's an interesting interaction between religion and collective memory.

Saturday morning I walked (in the streets) to services, where, for the first time in memory, I had a meaningful Yom Kippur. We had normal morning services, then the musaf (additional) service immediately after. This was what Jeremy and Rachel and I put together. It was a nice break from the heavy traditional melodies of the HHDs; we used a guitar and sang some more contemporary versions of things. It was a nice complement to the morning service, and I really felt like it provided a feeling of home and familiarity. It was nice to be able to contribute! After musaf we had a couple of hours to rest, followed by study sessions, afternoon services, memorial (yizkor) services, and ne'ilah (locking of the gates). While of course Yom Kippur is not traditionally a happy day, this one felt refreshing and meaningful. While we had break the fast in the moadon (our student lounge on campus) I really felt like I was ready to start the new year.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was time for Sukkot.

four species

I'm telling you--living by the Jewish calendar is unbelievable here.

Sukkot is the festival of booths, and it is maybe the most outwardly strange Jewish holiday. Basically what it entails is these temporary hut structures being built anywhere and everywhere--on the sidewalks outside of restaurants, on the sides of apartment buildings, on top of hotels--you name it, there's a sukkah there. So weird!

sukkah deocrations

For me, sukkot has always been a holiday of youth group programs (pizza in the hut) or fun study sessions, but it was never a holiday that we really celebrated at home. Thus, I really looked forward to seeing how Jerusalemites celebrated! We watched a movie called Ushpizin in Hebrew this week (learn more here) which was fun. Then, Wednesday morning, I went with some classmates to the shuk, where a special temporary shuk had been set up. There, we learned about the different rules and regulations for the lulav and etrog (lots of unfamiliar terms in this post, sorry guys--more info here). I have never seen anything like this shuk. There were hundreds of people trying to find the most perfect plants for their lulav, inspecting each leaf, and, sometimes, using a ruler to actually measure what they were buying.

It was totally awesome.

So, I have to say, it has been a wonderful experience getting to feel the Jewish holidays in Israel. Sure, there's something to be said about hanging out in a sukkah in the states, but there is absolutely nothing like having to dodge oncoming traffic in order to walk to class because of all the sukkot on the sidewalks.