ime of Our Joy - זמן שמחתנו

Whoa!  Sukkot is big.  We really need a couple of blog posts to relate everything.  Apologies in advance if even this first one is a bit long and/or rambling.

We wrote last time about how everyone and everything stops on Yom Kippur; even if they’re not observant the rest of the year -- maybe didn’t even go to shul for Rosh HaShannah -- no one is out as if it’s a regular day.  Sukkot has a similar, albeit less engaged feel.  People who might not typically live their daily lives by Jewish rhythms get caught up in Sukkot here.   (Here’s a shot of the half dozen sukkot in our backyard).

You can get Sukkot all over the place.  There were about five places within a five minute walk from our house.  Think (l'havdil) Xmas trees at home: stands pop-up wherever there is an open lot.

We bought our’s near the gas station/24-hour market near our house and carried it home.

It was wonderful.  It’s small (only 6x6) and individual tarps (instead of having to wrap one piece all the way around, like at home), both of which made setting it up so simple that it only took about ten minutes beginning to end.  

You can get lulav and etrog all over the place, too.

Even where you get clothes for your little girls

And not just the sukkah kits or arba minim, but everything else you could want is readily available.  Like palm fronds,

or sukkah lights

They were even selling sukkot, arba minim, and posters/sukkah decorations at our grocery store!

I do not think I can describe the grocery stores here to you.  I am sending you a picture of our main grocery store, Osher Ad, right before Rosh Hashana but you can’t really see how the lines are a dozen deep and people sometimes have two carts filled to the top.  

And sukkot is worse.  We were told by Hannah’s friends the Engelharts that we need to buy chicken before the holiday because they do not schecht chickens over the chag and the country runs out of chickens.  We didn’t actually see this, but the stores are madness.  There is a lot of yelling in the lines at Osher Ad, but usually the person deserves it.  There are unspoken rules of behavior when it takes you 45 minutes to an hour to check out of a grocery store and Israelis are not shy about enforcing unspoken rules. People just to talk to each other here as if they are part of your family, for better or worse.  Yes, preparing for Sukkot was madness!  

And that’s even with our being invited out for both meals on the first day of Sukkot. Dinner was at family from Nitzanim, Mary and Yonah Fuld (former head of SAR) with some of their friends.  Great people, we had a wonderful time.  Another great group for lunch, at the Pollocks with some old friends of theirs.

Everyone went their separate ways during Hol HaMoed.  Hannah was a little under the weather (still run-down from Thailand?) and went back to Givat Shmuel to sleep for a couple of days straight.  Zoe went up north for an overnight with her Bnai Akiva branch, and Sheryl and Seth went to Tel Aviv for a belated (20th. And 25th) anniversary get away.  We'll pick up that story next time.

Enjoy the last day(s).

What happens in Israel...

שערי תשובה לעולם פתוחים/Knockin' on Heaven's Door

Since I have changed jobs, the notion of the holiday season has changed for me.  When I owned my store, Thanksgiving was just about the least relaxing holiday imaginable.  I always promised myself that when I was no longer in retail, I would spend Black Friday as far away from a store as possible.  And I do.  But now in college guidance, the Chagim sometimes creep up and I cannot devote the time to them that I would like.  I used to like to devote time in Elul to studying and preparing for the Yomim Noraim.  Pardes, where Seth is studying, had a fabulous Elul study schedule that I was very tempted by, but from which I refrained.  I just knew it could not happen this year. (Once my high work season is done I will get to do some of that learning that I have wanted to.  The next Pardes season starts on October 31 and I have signed up for two classes.  That should change everything.  I will let you know.)

Farber Hebrew Day School has generously allowed me to work long distance this year.  I’II admit it has been a challenge sometimes with the time difference: for example, my College Informational Night for seniors and their parents in September that took place by Zoom at 7:00 PM EST in Farber’s Media Center.  For those of you who are paying attention that was 2:00 AM Jerusalem time.  Not my best time of day.  But it worked.  Plus, I have been Skyping, calling and emailing with parents, students, administrators, college reps, etc.  And, yes, it works, but I really miss being around the kids.

On top of this, I have been working for a company in Tel Aviv that advises Israeli students applying to American universities.  It is mostly a test prep company but over the past couple of years has become more full service. Right now I have four students whose undergraduate applications I am overseeing, but I have also conducted some staff and student workshops.  It is great meeting real Israelis and getting out of my Baka bubble.  I have had to go to Tel Aviv three times and I have learned to enjoy that bus trip. I can tell you that 22 year old Israelis who are post-army, have done some traveling, and are working, are nothing like 17 year old Jewish suburban teenagers applying to college.  And just so you know, Israelis are crazy smart at math.

Now back to the Chagim.  I really just wanted to be sitting in a shiur somewhere thinking about Repentance, but I have most of my Farber students apply to schools by November 1, the early deadline.  I need to write letters of recommendation for all of them, edit their essays, etc.  Plus I am editing Israeli essays.  So I went into the holidays with no prep.  
When Shabbat Shuva (the Shabbat between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur) rolled around, I decided that I needed to get to work.  Traditionally this Shabbat and Shabbat HaGadol (the one before Passover) are big in the world of rabbinic talks.  Rabbis usually give their “big” talks then and it can be pretty exciting in a place like Jerusalem.  So last Shabbat I double dipped: I went to an afternoon talk at Congregation Ramban with Rabbi Benny Lau and a post-Shabbat talk at the Great Synagogue by Rabbi Shlomo Riskin.  We saw a poster for Rabbi Riskin’s talk on the street when we walked to our Shabbat dinner.  It was posted like a concert for someone famous.

Rabbi Lau’s talk was in Hebrew and I knew that I would not get most of what he was saying.  And I didn’t, but he is great to listen to.  He has a way of speaking that is very compelling and I did understand the gist of what he was saying.  His subject was the red string that was tied to the scapegoat on Yom Kippur in the days of the Temple.  Pretty obscure but, of course, he tied it to bigger things.  Rabbi Riskin’s talk was ostensibly on Yonah, repentance and the LGBT community.  I was excited to see him because he is so famous and it was an event, but I did not love the talk.  There was definitely great energy in these rooms and I was so glad to be there.  People are always learning here and that is also inspiring.

So Yom Kippur was approaching and I was really looking forward to just sitting in shul for 24 hours.  Rosh Hashana was really wonderful here and we were starting to feel at home at Nitzanim, our chosen shul.  (And I guess we shouldn't have complained last week about having to buy tickets. It could have been a lot worse). Which brings us to another really nice thing that happened last Shabbat; we were invited to a new members’ Kiddush for Nitzanim at the apartment of the shul’s president. People have been very friendly and welcoming and we enjoyed meeting this crowd of mostly Anglo newbies.  We have noticed that there are quite a few mixed marriages here of Brit/American couples.  Also, in case you were wondering, Australians just seem to be more fun than everyone else.  And everyone has a story.  Seth and I are getting tired of hearing us tell ours over and over again.  As Zoe said when we left the Kiddush, “I think you have told the same stories now about a thousand times.” It’s true.  But I love hearing everyone’s stories of why and how they got here.  Some of these people came like Hannah when they were 18; some are coming now with children of varying ages; some bring their 90 year old parents along with them.  There is a woman I am friendly with at the gym (who is also a longtime friend of Allison Pollock’s) and when she heard our story, she called us “fakers,” which she said nicely by the way.  We did not mind.  We are fakers.  The commitment to live here and raise your children knowing they will go in the army is a different ballgame.  And kol hakavod to them all.

Back to Yom Kippur.  Forget Passover.  Forget Sukkot.  Forget summer break.  If you want to choose a time to visit Israel, Yom Kippur is the day. The whole country shuts down.  And I mean shuts down.  No public transportation. Everything is closed.  The traffic lights are turned off.  We went to Kol Nidre services (which were beautiful) and when we emerged and stood at the corner of Pierre Koenig and Asher, we watched as a sea of white filled the streets. Everyone was dressed in white and walking in the middle of the street because there were no cars.  And Kol Nidre night seems to be the biggest playdate of the year for the kids.  They bring their bikes, scooters, kiddie vehicles and even a shopping cart and ride through the streets at full speed with no worry of traffic.  The city was so quiet except for the sound of voices. There was an echo in the streets.  It was magic.  So you might want to put it on your calendar for next year.
______________________________________________________

"It’s unbelievable, it’s strange but true"
(Bob Dylan, “Unbelievable”.  1990)

Sheryl was clearly excited as she ran, the girls in tow, to the mirpeset (porch) where I was putting up our Sukkah.  “Guess who won the nobel prize in literature,” she practically shrieked?!  (If I had the talent to have been so honored, I would better be able to describe how overwrought she was.  Alas.)

I immediately guessed Philip Roth, but in retrospect she would not have been that excited for Roth.  Bob Dylan never entered my mind, though here Sheryl’s excitement makes sense given my unparalleled musical passion for him. Who knew his name has actually been in contention for a while?  Not me, obviously, but evidently others.  

In any event, what’s this doing in our Israel blog?  I could stretch it -- mention his famous visit to the Kotel in the early 80s, and "Neighborhood Bully"

right around the same time -- but it would feel inauthentic.  

Likewise, there are lots of discussions of Jewish/Biblical references in Dylan lyrics.  Without for a second denying there is something very, very Jewish about Dylan, at the end of the day his is a quintessentially American story.  Still, this was just too big to go unmentioned.

What Happens in Israel...

קול שופר

 .We had a wonderful Rosh HaShanah

First, the meals!  First night we got to eat at the Kashuks again. Tasty food of course, and good company.  The highlight of the evening though, was meeting Aryeh Leib “Eugene” Lebovitz.  I couldn’t possibly do this man justice with my words, but when you have a few minutes to be inspired, I recommend you click here and here to find out about his story.

The next day we had a reunion block party: lunch at our apartment with the Pollocks (who used to live about five houses down from us in HW) and Aviva Cohen/Brad Bernstein and Yonah (formerly across the street from us).  As “outsiders,” we were also fortunate to have Abe and Madi (Warshay) Truitt.  We double (quadruple) dipped, and also used the meal to celebrate some recent simhas: anniversaries for Benjamin & Allison and for Brad & Aviva, birthdays for Asaf and Brad.  By the time Sheryl’s delicious and plentiful meal was over we had a very short turnover before it was time for “dinner,” at which the four of us didn’t have much more than kiddush and a little challah with Kresch honey.

Day two we walked about 25 minutes to the Pat neighborhood (locale of Nishmat, Hannah’s home during her seminary year) to have lunch with former Akiva teachers Aviad and Leah Sanders and their four kids.  It was great catching up with them.

I seem to remember there was something else to Rosh HaShanah other than the meals?  Oh, right: shul.  So, to begin with, it didn’t occur to us that we would be paying for synagogue membership this year, but we did end up needing to buy tickets for Yomim Noraim.  It turns out that there are some Israelis who don’t actually go to shul all the time but show up for RH/YK, and so places get filled up.  Who knew?  

We ended up deciding on Nitzanim, which has been our primary synagogue so far.  By the time we got around to signing up, though, all that was left was room in the overflow service downstairs.  This might actually have ended up being the better choice; the chairs (plastic) aren’t as comfortable as upstairs, but it was less crowded and less talking than normal.  (And the price was half of what it would have been upstairs!)  The ‘backup’ prayer leaders/Torah readers/shofar blowers were all good, some quit so.  Overall a pretty intense (in a good way) and inspiring experience.

One of the unexpected highlights for me may in fact have been enhanced precisely from being in overflow.  The room downstairs has a sliding door to the outside, which was left open to allow the breeze (and kids) to easily come into the room.  The first afternoon, as we were finishing Torah reading, I heard the sound of the shofar from a nearby shul, or maybe just from the minyan upstairs.  (I had almost the exact experience on the second day.  I stepped out to do some reading during the rabbi’s sermon -- my Hebrew’s not as good as any of the women in my family, and I didn’t think I’d be able to fully follow it.  Standing there, I could hear another minyan’s shofar, the rabbi’s Dvar Torah, and some Sephardi piyut from the minyan in the bet midrash.)

The experience reminded me of a famous mishnah:

וכן מי שהיה עובר אחורי בית הכנסת. או שהיה ביתו סמוך לבית הכנסת ושמע קול שופר.... אם כיון לבו. יצא. ואם לאו לא יצא

And so he who was passing behind a synagogue, or whose house was adjacent to a synagogue, and heard the sound of a shofar ... if he concentrated his heart, he has fulfilled [his obligation], but if not, he has not fulfilled [his obligation].

The simple upshot of this mishnah is that it’s not enough to just hear the shofar blowing; you have to actively listen to it, with the intention of fulfilling the mitzvah of hearing the shoar.  

As with many halachic discussions, the “legalistic” arguments are often helpful in thinking about more “spiritual” matters as well.  In our case, when you are in between, moving from one place to another, intentionality is all important.  

And this is where we all are right now, during the Ten Days Teshuvah: standing in between.  We can hear the voice of the shofar, the words of our tradition, even our own prayers.  All of it is for naught, though, if we don’t have the right intention.  The Rabbis famously say that Yom Kippur is like Purim.  (It is a yom k’purim - literally, a day like Purim).  Identities and fate are in flux, covered up, and we have to decide whether or not we want to remove the masks we wear, which hide our true selves from others and ourselves.  It’s not easy work any way you cut it, but it’s impossible without the right intention.  May we all be able to garner the focus we need to help us become the people we want to become in the upcoming year.

OK, that’s the last dvar Torah for a while, I promise!  Next week back to regularly scheduled programming!  In the meantime, גמר חתימה טובה

What happens in Israel...