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.
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"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...
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