Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Monday, February 16, 2009

My Vacation, so far...

Being on vacation has allowed me to spend time on all manner of occupations, interesting and boring. I've spent hours listening to poetry at poetryfoundation.org, reading about kabbalah, klezmer, and other things that don't start with k, cleaning the apartment in anticipation of my parents' arrival, etc, etc, etc.

On Friday, I made good use of my free time by accompanying my friends Jessica and Nikki (both Rabbinical students) to Tel Aviv, where they wanted to visit a crafts market and look for talitot. The weather was gorgeous, and we took our time strolling among the hair ties, gadgets, hand-knit finger puppets, and Judaica before we visited an artist who does exquisite hand-painted silk table runners, challah covers, and talitot. Jessica and Nikki each ordered a custom designed tallit that I'm sure will be absolutely stunning. After lunch, we went for a stroll on the beach. Amazing. I ended the day with a table full of Shabbat dinner guests, where the food was flavorful and the conversation diverse, and together with these friends I watched evening stretch into night.



I'm not much of a believer in Valentines Day - it reminds me of high school when how loved you were was judged by the number of times the student council interrupted your classes to bring you balloons with heart shaped notes attached, or how many bouquets of flowers you hauled around with you from homeroom to gym to math class. But Daniel and I managed a magnificent Valentines Day, conveniently timed to coincide with Shabbat. We went to services, played several rounds of Spit (Daniel, of course, was the winner), ate baked apples, drew funny creatures with crayons, and spelled "Happy Valentines Day" out while playing hangman. We spent the afternoon getting our pictures taken by a photographer friend - it was terrific fun walking around the city posing in front of walls, bushes, and graffiti. We've only seen a few of the end products, but they are quite lovely.



We arrived home in just enough time to call our families and wish them happy V-days before we went out to dinner with friends and invited them back to our apartment for Settlers of Catan. My evening ended with a phone call to a dear friend in America, and I crawled into bed long after Daniel was already sound asleep. All of this makes me rethink my dislike for a day set aside to remind us how much love we are so blessed to enjoy - wholly, unabashedly, and (unlike the high school memories above) uncompetitively.




Yesterday I joined Daniel's class on a history-centered field trip to Tzippori. Tzippori, also known by the Greek Sepphoris, is about an hour and a half away from Jerusalem, is in the central Galilee region. I am excited to tell you all about it but please bear with me as I don't remember everything and this is, after all, a description of Daniel's history class and not mine, so my knowledge of the time period is quite lacking.

A brief history: The town, now mostly ruins, dates back to the Hellenistic era, and was the administrative capital of the Galilee region under the Roman Empire in the mid-first century BCE. Earlier names for the city include Eirnopolis (city of peace) and Diocaesarea (The Emperor is G-d). By the second century, Tzippori (Like a bird - probably because it is at the top of a hill) was a center of Jewish life. The Sanhedrin (legal body) headed by Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi was located in Tzippori at the beginning of the third century, during which time Jews made up a majority of the population. A Roman pagan population existed alongside the Jewish population of Tzippori, and because of this Tzippori is often used in the Talmud when examples are needed of the interaction between Jews and non-Jews in the public sphere. In 363 Tzippori was destroyed by an earthquake, but it was rebuild soon thereafter. Under Byzantine rule, the Christain community of Tzippori grew, and under Arab rule, the city declined in importance. Arab and Islamic dynasties continued to control the city, with a brief interlude during the Crusades, up until its conquest by Israel in the war of 1948. Throughout this period of time, the city was known by the Arabicized name of the Greek original: Saffuriya. During the 1948 war, Israel captured Tzippori and most settlers fled toward Lebanon. Those who remained or returned from refugee camps were later expelled, and many settled in nearby Nazareth. In 1949 immigrants from Morocco and Tunisia, later joined by Rumanian immigrants, formed a moshav at Tzippori.




Our first stop in Tzippori was the acropolis, which had been the center of town - the marketplace. From there, we walked to the theater, where we discussed the character of theater and how it is represented in rabbinic sources. Theater in the late Roman period in Tzippori was not a presentation of the classics: Sophocles, Aristophones, etc., but was instead a place where accessible commentaries on life in Tzippori were staged: largely mimes and satires. This allowed for an airing of tensions and in particular a representation of stereotypes and discomforts with Jewish practices, particularly as theatergoers were more often Roman than Jewish. Aphitheaters, such as the Coloseum in Rome or the performance space at Caesarea were the site of more large-scale and much more violent activities: here the gladiators would fight large animals or one another for their lives. The Talmud views this as morally repugnant, but nevertheless permits Jews to go to the amphitheaters. Famously, when the gladiators faught, the emporer would signal whether the gladiator would be allowed to live or die, and he would make that assessment based on the cheers of the crowd. Thus, a Jew was allowed to go to the amphitheater in order that, by his cheers, he might be able to save a life. In addition, a Jew could go to the amphitheater to witness the death of another Jew, in order that his wife would not be bound in her marraige and would be able to remarry.



We visited a Roman villa which contains a beautiful mosaic floor, dating from the 3rd century and depicting Roman cults. In one part of the frame is the face of a woman who has been dubbed the "Mona Lisa of the Galilee." The seats would have been arranged in a u-shape around the mosaic, and people would have eaten, drank, and reclined in front of the mosaic which pictures Dionysus, Pan, and other figures drinking. Following the Roman villa, we visited the site of another mosaic, located in a building that was erected at the beginning of the 5th century over the ruins of buildings from the Roman period and was in use until the end of the Byzantine period. Inside the building is an almost-intact mosaic depiction of celebration for the rise of the water level of the Nile river. Although Egypt was far away from Tzipori, the Nile, a constant source of water for a desert nation, was legendary as a symbol of wealth, prosperity, and plenty. Also in the building are mosaic depictions of a variety of hunting scenes, including one of Amazon women hunting.



It was at this point that we broke into partners for a text study (I studied with Daniel). We studied the following text, found in the Talmud in Avodah Zarah 16b,17a:


The rabbis have taught: When Rabbi Eleazor was about to be imprisoned on account of sectarianism, he was brought to the [Roman] court to be tried. The judge said to him, "Does a man of your age busy yourself with such things?" He answered, "The j/Judge is just towards me." The judge thought that Eleazor was speaking of him [the judge]; but he thought upon his Father in heaven. Then the judge said to him, "Since you think I am just, then you are acquitted." Now when Eleazor came home his disciples presented themselves to him to console him, but he would not be consoled. Then Rabbi Akiva said to him, "Permit me to tell you something of what you have taught me." He answered, "Say on." Then said Rabbi Akiva, "Perchance you have once given an ear to heresy, which pleased you, and for that account you have been arrested for heresy." Eleazor replied, "Akiva, you have reminded me! I was once walking in the upper streets of Sepphoris; there I met with one of the disciples of Jesus the Nazarene, Jacob of Kfar Sechanya, who said to me, 'It is found in your Law (Duet. 23:19), Thou shalt not bring the hire of a whore. . . into the house of. . . thy God. What may be done with it? May a latrine for the High Priest be built out of such gifts?' And I answered him nothing. He said to me, 'Thus has Jesus the Nazarene taught me, For the hire of a whore has she gathered them, and unto the hire of a harlot they shall return.' (Micah 1:7) From the place of filth they come, and unto the place of filth they shall go.' This explanation pleased me, and on this account I have been arrested for heresy, since I transgressed the scripture, Remove your way far from her (i.e., heresy). (Proverbs 5:8)

What we saw as happening here was that Rabbi Eliezar asked his followers what he could have done to displease G-d such that G-d would allow him to have been accused of sectarianism. Rabbi Akiva answers him that perhaps he had once been pleased by an interpretation that came from a non-Jewish source, and this explains his arrest, which Rabbi Eliezar confirms to be the case. Thus, even appreciating and enjoying the interpretations of a non-Jewish source, whether one practices them or not, is enough of a problem for G-d to allow Rabbi Eliezar to be arrested. Moreover, the interpretation that Rabbi Eliezar enjoys parallels his own story: according to Jesus, money earned through prostitution can be used to build the latrine of the high priest, because it comes from filth and so it can be used, if in a demeaning way. Although the source of the money is tainted, the end product is not tainted. Rabbi Eliezar comes to realize that if the source of something (an interpretation, money, etc) is improper (whether by prostitution or by sectarianism), the ending result (the interpretation, the latrine, etc) cannot be good, even if the same interpretation or latrine could have been produced in the exact same way by a proper source. The source of things matters. This story shows the extent to which the Rabbis were afraid of neighboring cultures, in part because they were so similar to one another - both drawing from the same sources and interpreting them in similar ways - that it was hard to maintain boundaries and not to be influenced by the other. In this sense, although Tsippori was a fairly diverse society, home to Romans, Christians, and Jews, the Rabbis were very concerned about the idea that their followers could value the intellectual products of other cultures, and in this passage they solidify Rabbinic authority by declaring that even if the Rabbis and the Christians were to arrive at the same idea, nevertheless adopting the idea from a Christian source would be inappropriate. We had to assume that the Rabbis would only be so fearful if this kind of exchange of ideas between Jews and non-Jews was actually happening, and often.

Our final stop in Tzippori was a synagogue. It is believed that there were once about 18 synagogues in Tzippori, but only one has thus far been excavated. It is a long, narrow building measuring 8x21 meters, and, curiously, not directed toward Jerusalem. We spent some time studying the mosaic on the floor of the synagogue, which contains depictions of the binding of Isaac, lions, Temple objects, and at the center a Zodiac wheel surrounded by representations of the four seasons. This is an interesting juxtaposition of traditional Jewish and Roman symbols, and was a fitting end to our discussion about Jewish fears about and practices of incorporating non-Jewish ideas into their lives and worldviews. We prayed mincha together in the synagogue before returning to the bus to head back to Jerusalem.




On the way to Jerusalem we stopped in Beit Shemesh, a small city just outside Jerusalem, where we had dinner at a terrific restaurant called Tavlin (Spice). It's a vegetarian restaurant with flavorful food made with locally grown spices. Adjacent to the restaurant is a giant spice store with every type and combination of spice imaginable. Daniel and I bought two kinds of granola, two blends of spices for rice, and one blend of spices for soup. We are very excited to get cooking!




In a few days Mom and Dad will be here and I can't wait! I'm sure I'll be writing about my adventures with them soon.
In the meantime, for those who don't know, my exciting news is that I have been accepted to the Jewish Theological Seminary's PhD program in Jewish Literature. I'm still waiting to hear from other schols before I decide if this is where I want to go, but I am terrifically excited and relieved to know that there's a school out there who is willing to admit me.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

A Lovely Shabbat in the Midst of Hard Times

Earlier in the week I was feeling pretty lonely without Daniel here, but things are picking up, and people have been incredibly generous and nice in spending time with me. Last night after services at the synagogue around the corner from our apartment, I went to the home of an HUC couple for dinner and we chatted well into the night. This morning I went to services and the cantor invited me to his home for lunch, since he saw that I was alone. I had a lovely afternoon with the cantor and his wife, his parents, a lovely woman from the synagogue, and the cantor's bright and energetic toddler. The cantor made aliyah several years ago, and his family is all from the New York/ New Jersey area, so it was so warm and wonderful to hear the familiar accents. The cantor's wife is from Northern Virginia, and so I was able to chat about both of my homelands at one table! It was very nice.
The cantor asked me to sing in the synagogue choir for the commemoration of the birthday of the synagogue, so I'm going to be practicing for that. It's so nice that people are so eager to make me feel as though I belong. I really love this synagogue and in many ways it reminds me of CBI in Charlottesville - a small close knit community with a lot of things happening, people committed to their Judaism and to one another... If you're ever in Jerusalem, you should check out Har El. http://www.kbyonline.org/har-el/

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Over the course of this Shabbat I've finally been able to understand a little bit about what it means that this country is at war. A few days ago an air raid siren went off in Jerusalem by accident while I was in class at Hebrew University, and the teacher told us that she was sure there was nothing to worry about. Class went on as usual and I didn't think much of it - I assumed that it had really been a police siren and I had been mistaking it for something more serious. However, last night at services during her sermon the rabbi spoke about hearing the siren, and trying to get all of the preschoolers out of the building and into the nearby bomb shelter (I later overheard a conversation where the cantor said that they should build a bomb shelter in the basement of the shul because if there was an emergency there's no way that they could get all of the kids to safety on time as things are). She talked about how scared the kids were, and how hard it was to see them so scared, and spoke of how this was only a taste of what children are experiencing in the south - on both sides of the conflict. The ferverency of the prayers for peace this week were almost palpable and when we prayed for the safety of the soldiers in the army, at least five pairs of parents and grandparents mentioned their loved ones who are in Gaza by name before we recited the prayer. Until now I had not really sensed how the conflict was affecting people here, as it is not disrupting the daily flow of life. But what must it be for so many people to go on with their lives knowing that their children or grandchildren are fighting not far away? On the other hand, last night at dinner I was speaking to some friends about the conflict and we remarked on how few Israeli casualties have resulted from this conflict as compared to Paelstinian casualties... Some say that Israel was right to start the conflict, but that now it has gone too far. Some say it should never have happened in the first place. Some say that it has been very successful so far and that when civilians are being used as human shields, perhaps it is moral to kill them in order to execute the aims of the war. I don't know what to think... I just keep reading the news and hoping that a lasting peace will come, and soon.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

A Great Miracle Happened Here




In the days before Hannukah began, I scrambled around the city in search of gifts for Daniel, wandering into the nooks and crannies of the city center to find just the right doodads and treasures - small enough that they can be taken in a suitcase back to the land of the free and the home of the brave, but fun, exciting, and useful nonetheless. I found myself in pottery stores, clothing stores, art stores, and Judaica stores, and the only department store in the city center, browsing through the Channukah sales and noting the disquieting lack of Christmas music in late December. My purchases made, I squirreled them away in the corner of the apartment, ready for the holiday to begin.

Daniel and I didn't expect much from Channukah in Israel, figuring that it wouldn't be a big to-do without the counterpart of Christmas as a motivator for families who didn't want their children to be left out. And, in fact, the 'holiday season' was considerably less pronounced here than it is in the States. Nevertheless it was charming and meaningful in surprising ways.

My only really Israeli experiences of Channukah included eating sufganiot that were being sold at every corner, enjoying the Hannukah decorations at Hebrew University, and attending a preschool Channukah party where kids wore hats with candles on them and danced for their grinning parents. I enjoyed much of the holiday in the warmth of our apartment.The above picture is of the preschool Hannukah party. No, those aren't Indian hats, they are candle hats.


The above picture is of a Channukah decoration at Hebrew University.



The week that Channukah began, winter cold also began in earnest. Rainy days were followed by sunless days with puddles remaining on the slippery Jerusalem stone. We're trying not to use too much energy, so without the space heaters on, we were roaming about our apartment in layer upon layer of sweatshirts and blankets, sipping tea for warmth. Daniel is in finals season and has been scrambling to reasearch for papers and study for tests. And what a relief that in the midst of all of this, we were able to light candles together every night, singing the prayers with our arms about each other, and watching the candles dance before the misted window pane. Each evening we gave each other a different present, and now we are both enjoying our gifts: warm winter gear, candy, clothing, games, Judaica, etc. For the eighth night of Channukah Daniel bought me a little statuette of a whippet, which has been sitting in the window of the Judaica store around the corner and which I have been waving to every day as I come home from school. He wished that the storekeeper spoke English so that he could have inquired, "How much is that doggie in the window?" Unfortunately, it was a missed opportunity.





Two pictures of Channukah gifts: left: the doggie formerly in the window; right: pictionary and candy


On Friday, Daniel and I went to the apartment of some friends of mine from Hebrew University for a post-Christmas (I suppose Boxing Day) brunch. We baked a lemon poppyseed cake to bring to the apartment, and we ate terrific food - homemade biscuits, apple crumble, fritata, etc. The conversation was intense and informative, as we spent most of the time talking about religion to these students from all over the world who had converged in Jerusalem to study that very topic. We learned about the significance of place in Christianity (asking about whether Bethlehem was significant religiously to those who had traveled there for the holiday), about relics in the Catholic church, and a number of other interesting topics. The atmosphere was warm and the company was good. It's nice to spend time with non-HUC friends for a change.

That evening, on the Channukah evening that coincinded with Shabbat, we were welcomed into the apartment of some HUC students for Kabbalat Shabbat services. Sprawled out on couches, chairs, and pillows, Daniel's class prayed together, sang together, and demonstrated how close they have grown to each other this semester. It felt like a strong and loving community, and when we shared instances of light and darkness in our lives, in keeping with the theme of Channukah, I was impressed by the willingness of these students to open up to one another. I think it is terrific that these future Rabbis, Cantors, and Educators are becoming such fast friends, and I think that will be a strong asset to the Reform community for years to come.

On Shabbat afternoon, Daniel and I hosted his Hebrew class for lunch. We baked bagels, challah, and more lemon poppyseed cake, and in honor of the occasion, on Friday afternoon we went to a restaurant around the corner from our apartment that, on Fridays, turns into a place to buy Shabbat food. Trays and trays of prepared meals were spread throughout the room, and people would simply point and order the food, which was sold at a remarkably low price in order that families will have good food for the holiday. We bought a few salads and a mixed vegetable dish, and were very pleased. We'll probably go there again.

Having Daniel's class over was great. For one of his Channukah presents, Daniel had received Pictionary in Hebrew, and so we played a round with Daniel's class, searching through our Hebrew English dictionaries when we didn't know what the words meant. It was a great vocabulary building excercise, and a lot of fun!

My Channukah Miracle, I suppose, was that I discovered that a teacher at Daniel's school used to be my cantor when I was 11 years old. She has since changed her name and so I assumed that she was not the same person, but I recently learned that she was the selfsame cantor that I so admired as a young girl. This was a very emotional discovery for me, largely because I am a very emotional person, but also because this cantor was very important to me as a child - she really inspired me to become interested in Judaism and I think about her and her influence on me all of the time, so it was a tremendous surprise to learn that all this time I've been interacting with her, playing with her son at the preschool, etc., only now to find out that she is the cantor of my youth. It was an enthusiastic 'reunion' when I told her!

We're sad that the holiday was over, but we have a lot to look forward to in the upcoming week- HUC's New Years prom, our New Year's Day pot-luck dinner, a visit from Daniel's home synagogue, seeing people on the UVA Birthright trip, etc. We'll be busy for the next few days!

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Second Draft of a Poem

Morning Confession

metal pierces blushing flesh
fingers probe, plunge into the land’s
heart-shaped child, pry into
intimate corners, prod
white fibers and pull forth
beads of flesh

they shatter
explode
between coffee-stained teeth

on the plate a carcass splayed open
bloodless, vacant, defunct

National Thanksgiving Turkey Presentation and Pardoning

Since 1947, at least, US Presidents have been presented with a live domestic turkey in honor of Thanksgiving. Since 1989, this ceremony has taken a new turn - President George H.W. Bush started the ceremony for pardoning the turkey, after which it was sent to live out its life in Frying Pan Park in Fairfax, VA or more recently in Disney Land or Disney World.

I just want to point out a few things:

Why does this turkey get a pardon when the turkey at the Thanskgiving table does not? Is it because once it is live and on television, people are less comfortable with the idea of it being eaten? We want to separate our food from it's living form so badly that we can't acknowledge that a turkey, a living bird, is the source of the turkey on our tables?

Also, what's this about a pardon? What was the sin of the turkey in the first place? Or is the turkey some kind of scapegoat to represent American sins? (And if so, this tarnegol caporet of the American people is SO interesting... turns Thanskgiving into a sort of Yom Kippur for Americans which is strangely appropriate as the myth of the holiday as a coming together for colonists and natives covers up the reality of Western interactions with indigenous peoples and in fact perhaps Thanksgiving should be a time to confess misdeeds and try to correct them). At a time when, in the tail end of his presidency, George Bush's greatest remaining power is his opportunity to grant presidential pardons, what is the symbolism of his willingness to save the lives of two innocent turkeys, while consuming another at his dinner table?

In any case, you can read about Turkey Pardoning here:

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/asia/la-na-turkey-pardon27-2008nov27,0,3253895.story
http://godc.about.com/od/seasonalevents/a/turkeypardon.htm
http://www.whitehouse.gov/holiday/thanksgiving/photoessay/index.html
http://www.inquisitr.com/9808/president-bush-pardons-his-last-thanksgiving-turkey/

Also, Sarah Palin's turkey pardoning has been getting quite a bit of press, it seems. She gave a post-turkey pardoning interview while in the background you can see turkeys being slaughtered.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/us_and_americas/us_elections/article5236689.ece
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYxn2vlhtWo

In any event, it seems Obama also was busy with Thanksgiving festivities of a different sort. Although next year he'll have to pardon a turkey, this year he helped out in a Food Bank in the South Side of Chicago:

http://blogs.abcnews.com/politicalpunch/2008/11/on-thanksgiving.html

Anyway, sorry if this post made anyone uncomfortable - it is easier to criticize the impulse to pardon a turkey as a vegetarian who won't be eating one for Thanksgiving... But I think that if people are going to eat meat, they should be comfortable with where it comes from. The fact that Sarah Palin's interview is being laughed at as unsensitive and stupid shows the discomfort that many people have at seeing the very process by which food reaches their tables - if she had been in front of an orchard where people were pulling apples off trees, no one would have found the interview to be a faux pas. Anyway, something to think about...

First Draft of a Poem

So I don't write poetry very often, and this is very much a first draft of something I've been thinking about for a while, but I'd appreciate your feedback as I think this has some potential if it were developed a bit.

Morning Confession

I eat pomegranates for breakfast.
And sometimes I yearn for the substance of
A slice of bread – its firmness and fullness
Familiarity, convenience, tidiness
Next to a cup of instant coffee
But instead

I slice into the pomegranate with my knife
And pry apart the insides with my hand
Prodding at the white fibers and
Pulling forth the beads of fruit
Pushing them between my lips
And crunching, devouring

I say that this connects me to the land
To the seasons – I eat what is
Growing here, now.
But I don’t know the land
And I don’t know the seasons
Although, at least, I do eat pomegranates
For breakfast.
From inside my apartment
I imagine myself a part of this vital world
And I cut into the land’s heart-shaped child
Grinding the seeds between my
Coffee-stained teeth

The environment is a cause for which
I enter my credit card number online
Donating chai for the source of all life
And closing my computer to shut it away
The environment is large and far away
It is a stranger whom I pity
An abstraction grounded only in the sky

But the round globe of the pomegranate
Feels firm in the palm of my hands
Flushed pink as I enter it with
My sticky fingers, plucking the
Pinkish blood and white, firm body
From a corpse splayed wide across my plate
A silenced heart upon a hospital bed

I drop the last teardrop-shaped seed
Into my cavernous mouth
The rind is empty, shredded
Its secrets revealed, it holds no more
And I throw the carcass in the trashcan
Close the lid, and
Walk away.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

First Day of School

So the government pulled through and the strike did not have to happen, hence, I began my "autumn semester" today. Although I only had one class today - Hebrew - it was sooo good to have a reason to leave the apartment again, to speak in Hebrew, and to see all of my friends from summer ulpan. I have a lot of classes tomorrow and will write more once I've been to them, but suffice it to say that I am excited about the new semester.
To celebrate, Daniel took me out to a nice restaurant - it's in a back alley and hard to find, but is a real treasure. The restaurant doubles as a bookstore, and the walls are lined in books in Hebrew and English. Apparently, they often host poetry readings, and we hope to go back there for cultural events, and also for the excellent food! We had a giant salad (we brought some of it home for lunch tomorrow) and shakshouka (eggs in tomato sauce) with spinach. Shakshouka, by the way, is pretty excellent, and if you are ever in Israel, it is worth trying.
That's all for now - you'll hear more about my new semester tomorrow, after my marathon day of classes.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Rolling around Jerusalem.

.גילגול מסביב לירשלים

First, an authorial note. Jessica and Daniel will be co-authoring this post for maximum recollection and enjoyment.

Although a number of things have happened to us in the past few days including a dinner with friends, a lovely walk to the shuk to see all of the lulav vendors, and classes (Daniel) and studying/working on grad school applications (Jessica), what we really wanted to write about was this amazing adventure we had thanks to our friendly and generous across the hall neighbors. You may recall that we invited Mr. and Mrs. Katz over for dinner several weeks ago, and we were delighted that they accepted our invitation. A couple weeks ago, they invited us on a tiyul (trip) and asked us where we wanted to go. We put the ball back in their court, telling them that we'd be excited to see anything they wanted us to see. So, this past Friday afternoon, Mr. Katz invited us over to discuss the plan he had created for us.

We traversed the long distance between our apartments and were warmly welcomed into their beautiful living room, decorated in deep reds, with dark wooden furniture and many paintings on the wall that we later learned were created by Mrs. Katz's late brother. To explain where we would be traveling, Mr. Katz picked up his Tanach (Bible) and asked us, "Do you know the Book of Samuel?" He then proceeded to recount some stories from Samuel's life, Tanach in hand, in order to set the stage for our upcoming trip. Daniel couldn't believe it: This entirely secular man was detailing "history" from the bible and preparing us to explore the sites he described! He told us about the Philistines' capture of the ark, the birth and passing of Samuel, and a few tales about Samson. He concluded by saying that we'd be exploring some of the locations mentioned in these stories along with, hopefully, some of their children and grandchildren. "We'll be ready by 10:00," we assured them and went back to our apartment, excited about the next day's adventures.

Although Jessica suspected that the actual time of departure was to be 9:30, Daniel assured her that she was absolutely mistaken, and at 9:30, when Mr. Katz rang the doorbell, Jessica ran to the door in her pajamas and embarassedly asked for ten minutes to get ready. Daniel and Jessica hurriedly threw on some clothes, grabbed a camera, and knocked on the Katzes' door. When Mr. Katz opened the door, he gave what can only be described as a grandfatherly chuckle before ushering us into the elevator to descend to our journey.

Apparently, Mr. Katz had already parked the car out front and loaded it with our lunch supplies (stay tuned...). The four of us started driving, and shortly we were outside of the city. We chatted, hesitantly at first, in Hebrew about a variety of topics, and this banter became freer as the trip progressed and became one of the highlights of the entire day. Before long, Mr. Katz pointed to an old spire on top of a high hill and identified it as Nebi Samuel. And less than ten minutes after that, we had arrived at that very spot which had seemed to distant only a few minutes earlier.

From the parking lot, Nebi Samuel didn't seem like such an exciting place. There were no touristy things like gift shops or signs in English, and the whole area seemed a little run down - a tiny Yeshiva building to one side, and no guests aside from ourselves. Daniel approached a sign that described the history of the building, and Mr. Katz read it to us, though frankly it was hard for me to understand all of the Hebrew.

Just after Mr. Katz finished reading the sign to us, we were joined by Noam, their youngest son, and Noam's daughter Talia, along with Noam's friend and former boss. The seven of us walked up to the building on the hill and that's when we realized why the Katzes had brought us here. From 900 meters above sea level, we could see everything in the Judean hills and beyond. From the West Bank to the Mediterranean Sea, Israel lay before us like a picture book waiting to be pored over. Borrowing Noam's professional binoculars, we were able to make out villages, towns, and cities miles away. We climbed to the top of the crusader-era building and found ourselves higher than anything else in the area. Noam's intimate knowledge of the countryside gave a deeper understanding to what we were seeing as he was able to point out Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Tel Aviv, Ramallah, and the locations of certain historical events (like a key battle in the Maccabean revolt). It was truly an incredible vantage point!

We walked around the building slowly, as Mr. Katz pointed out features of the building itself - below us a stone house with a roof that had fallen in, and above us a tower (which we would later climb). We made our way into the belly of the building, which is today a synagogue, and which contains what is believed to be the grave of Samuel. Jessica descended by herself into the women's section, which was about the size of a closet, while Daniel explored the much more interesting men's section. Jessica later joined him in the men's section, as there was no one present to tell her otherwise. In the men's section, we saw not only the alleged tomb of Samuel but also several books and tables that would normally be found in a synagogue and beit midrash. Perhaps a bit more startling was the sign that read (roughly), "Anyone who talks during the Shmoneh Esrei or the Kaddish will never get out of hell." This, in addition to the bumper sticker we had seen on the ground level warning against boys and girls touching each other, gave a distinct impression as to what group of people considered this their place.

From the top of the tower we gazed out at Israel, admiring its hills that jutted up like waves on a stormy sea. The Katzes' other son, Yair, and his son, whose name we can't recall, had joined us by this point, and we really felt like we were part of a family outing. It wasn't too long before we climbed down from the tower and returned to the car to continue to our next location.

Mr. Katz was following his children, and as we drove, he pointed out to us notable locations while describing the history of the roads, the trees, even the very countryside. For example, the Katzes explained to us that in first few months of their military service as young adults (they met in the army), their role was to plant trees - the very trees we drove past. It was fascinating to hear his long view of the history of the place - unfortunately, his story-telling distracted from his driving, and we got slightly off course. After calling one of his sons, Mr. Katz believed himself to be on track, but when we pulled in front of the fish store, it seemed at least plausible that we had gotten ourselves a little lost. Regardless, we walked around the fish store, which was itself an adventure - tropical fish of all sizes swam in a multitude of tanks, and we poked around, smiling broadly at the brightly striped and oddly marked varieties. Once Mr. Katz had reconnected via cell phone with his kids, we continued on our way.

Our next stop was a French monastery, which was surrounded by gorgeous trees and beautiful flowers. We learned that the sisters spend much of their time studying, baking, and making ceramic pottery and figures (though it wasn't clear what the brothers' schedules include). We looked through the wine and cheese shops (it was, after all, a French monastery!) and continued to the chapel. The walls were covered with beautiful scenes from Christian history, and the books included the New Testament in several languages as well as other volumes about Israel and Christianity. All the wile, we chatted with Yair, who is a computer programmer, and admired what Jessica's dad would call the foil-age.

We continued down the road a bit to a spot that Noam recommended for our picnic - the British Park. Mr. Katz drove his car practically into the picnic area itself, to the chagrin of his sons, and began unpacking shopping bag after shopping bag full of food. It was a laughable amount of food - he offered us whole peppers, carrots, and cucumbers, pitas, different vegetable-filled pastries, cookies, honey cake, hummus, tehina, crackers, dried fruit... Each time he opened something new his sons protested that they'd had enough and he responded "What do you care if I open it? You don't have to eat it." Whole cans and bags of food remained uneaten and our bellies were satisfyingly round as we sat around the table enjoying the beautiful day. Noam, who apparently goes for a walk and a picnic every Shabbat, was equipped with a portable gas stove, on which he prepared a sweet tea-like drink that he called "Louisa," which he apparently grows fresh in his garden. Later, he also prepared and served strong, sweet coffee. The kids used the fire from the stove to light a small campfire nearby and all of the adults watched as they kindled dry leaves and sticks.

We very much enjoyed conversing with the Katzes and their sons, and before we called it a day, Noam wanted to hike up the hill a bit with his daughter. We accompanied them and talked to Noam (in English!) about his life as the former ambassador to Nigeria. Turns out he's lived for many years in Nigera, Ghana, Rwanda, and a few other African countries - his three children, he says, are "more African than Israeli." He's moved back to Israel to give his youngest daughter an opportunity to get to know and appreciate Israel and Israeli culture, but he doesn't expect to remain here long. His wife wants to go to Europe, so he may serve there next, but soon he wants to head to central Asia (Uzbekistan) to start a new chapter of diplomacy. It was so interesting hearing this diplomat describe life in northern Africa and to hear ever so briefly his perspective on international relations there.

By the time we returned with Noam and Talia, Yair and his son had already left. We bid farewell to Noam and piled back into the Katzes' car, which Mr. Katz extracted from the park and drove away. On our way back, our conversations continued. We drove through Beit Shemesh, which had been built from nothing over the past fifty years. Mr. Katz pointed to a newer area that had once been home to new immigrants from Middle Eastern countries - Mr. Katz was involved in teaching them and helping them to adjust to life in Israel. We stopped at an overlook, where Mr. Katz showed us that we were at the site where the story of Samson had occurred. We took pictures of him and Daniel, Jessica and Mrs. Katz, and we continued on our way, down the beautiful narrow hilly roads. Every few minutes Mr. Katz would sigh "how beautiful!"

The drive back to Jerusalem was gorgeous and took us through parts of the city that we had never visited before. For the first time, we were able to see "regular" parts of Israel (even Jerusalem), where people go out on Shabbat and lead lives that aren't regulated by religion. We drove through the suburbs, where people have actual houses, and were able to imagine living in Jerusalem without the congestion of King George Street. Not only was the drive beautiful, but it was also educational and eye-opening.

Once we were heading back into town, it took us a surprisingly short amount of time to get back to our neck of the woods. The Katzes continued to point out items of interest even though we may have passed them a hunded times since moving in. We parked the car behind our apartment building, helped unload the several bags of leftover food, and walked back to the apartment with the Katzes.

When we were back on our comfortable fifth floor, we wished the Katzes good-bye from inside their apartment. They told us they had had a wonderful time and were glad that we had come with them - they even hinted at a next time! Mr. Katz had bought each of us a small jar of honey (for a sweet new year!) from the French monastery, and he also showed us the small ceramic sheep he had bought himself - apparently, he collects them. We finally bid our last good-bye and returned to our apartment.

Overall, the entire trip was absolutely lovely. It was wonderful to join this family, to spend Shabbat in a meaningful secular manner with kind and generous people who were interested in sharing their life stories with us. We ate delicious food, shared good jokes, and saw some breath-taking sights. We learned, taught, and explored together, making this definitely one of the richest, most unique Shabbats we've had since we've arrived. We both very much look forward to the "next time" that Mr. Katz alluded to, and we hope that we've made some good friends in these elderly neighbors whom we just thought it would be fun to invite to dinner. See what a good quiche can accomplish?

PS If you'd like to see pictures from this trip, as well as other experiences we've had here in Israel, check out our new online album here!

Friday, August 22, 2008

The Shuk



(The picture was taken from http://www.fonerbooks.com/guide_30.htm)

This morning I met Chad, an HUC SO and extremely friendly and kind person, and we went together to the shuk to do some grocery shopping. I bought:
- cheese
- a cabbage
- lots of cherry tomatoes
- lots of grapes
- lots of fresh mint
- hot peppers
- fresh figs
- two bottles of soda
all for about $20 -- not bad!

The shuk is enormous, covering several city blocks. Rows and rows of vendors sell vegetables, wine, cheese, meat, fish, olives, crackers, and fruit - with the occasional vendor selling kippot, scarves, or skirts. The shuk area is a pedestrian mall and the main road, Mahane Yehuda, has a roof to shield it from the sun. On Friday mornings, the only time on the weekend when everyone has off and things aren't all closed, the shuk is swarmed with shoppers - orthodox and secular alike - who shove one another out of the way to get through the narrow alleys between the stores. Shop keepers shout out the latest prices of their wares, trying to outbid their competitors, and when you want to make a purchase, you pick it up and handed to the storekeeper, who brusquely tells you the price and barely waits for you to pay him before he moves on to help another customer. The variety of fruits and vegetables is phenomenal - giant gourds and squashes larger than pumpkins sit next to apricots, plums, apples, persimmons, pomegranites, and fresh figs. So many varieties of cucumbersd, peppers, tomatoes. Stacks and stacks of bundles of fresh parsely, cilantro, dill, and mint. Spices that are shoveled into bags in large quantities so that you can bring it home and have enough cumin for I don't know, at least seven years. It is hot, crowded, and it is hard to get in and out of the store to make your purchase, but the produce is excellent and cheap. There are some things you can't get at the shuk- prepared foods, milk, eggs in reasonable quantities, but for the experience and for what you can get, it definately seems worth it. Just maybe next time I won't go on a Friday morning?

(PS - yes, Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, it is a lot like St. Lawrence Market, only everything is happening fast, and tons of people are there, and it is much bigger, and outside, and everythign is in Hebrew, and the produce reflects the fact that we are in the Middle East.)