The highs and lows of Yom Rishon

Sunday -- Yom Rishon/יום ראשון, in Hebrew -- is, of course, not a day off in Israel; it is the first day of the working week. As you can see from the above picture, there was plenty of activity in the center of Jerusalem, today. This picture is of a busy corner not far from the Shuk. I walked to that colorful outdoor marketplace after walking Minna to Hebrew Union College where she had a meeting. I spent about 120 shekels (about $35) there, mostly on fruits and vegetables, and then I continued to walk -- with a heavy load! -- towards the Central Bus Station, where I was going to try and get a bus map. But it was a bit too hot for me, especially with all that food I was lugging, so I gave up a couple of hundred yards shy of the bus station and started walking home.

The station by the way is one of the higher points in this mountainous city at an elevation of about 820 meters. Later in the day, after doing some reading as part of my research for a while, I would return to this high point, again -- this time by bicycle -- and also go almost to one of the lowest points in the city, the Jerusalem Mall, which sits at an elevation of about 700 meters.

I started my afternoon bike ride -- by far my longest in Jerusalem so far -- around 6pm by entering the southern part of the Gan Sacher park. Here is a view of part of it:

I wish I had been in more of a picture-taking mood because I saw some really cool stuff. The park was really hopping with that incredible mixture of ultra-religious Jews and secular Israelis recreating in the same space.

I almost went all the way to the mall afterwords -- thinking it would be fun to stop at the Burger King and get a kosher Whopper there there before riding back -- but then I realized that I had forgotten my keys for my bike locks. So I turned around a couple of hundred yards shy of the mall.

I rode on bike paths and sidewalks most of the way, which is really against my general philosophy of bike riding -- which insists that it is safer and better for all concerned if cars are forced to share the road. I am really impressed, however, by the extent to which Jerusalem's adult bike-riding population seems to adhere to this road-centered philosophy. I really see very little bike-riding on sidewalks and very little riding against the direction of traffic. . . . I'm not sure why I'm not "claiming my lane" here too in my Jerusalem bike-riding so far. I'm just feeling a little bit timid . . . . But excited, too. It's really a blast riding here!

[X-posted to abayye]

Pre-Shabbat walk

Soon it will be my first Shabbat in Jerusalem since I last left in 2001. Minna and I went for a walk, today, around our neighborhood. We came across the very same youth village center that her mom spent some time at when she was a teen:

Very nearby is a beautiful park on a hillside:


In case you thought there were no Christians in Jerusalem, we found proof positive otherwise!

This kid below was yelling out "Ole" as he held his kippah off to the side!

I would have loved to have been able to get closer to this beautiful bird.

But in case you thought it was all fun and games in Jerusalem, there are reminders everywhere that more serious matters afoot!

Forgiveness, of course, is a key theme of the upcoming High Holidays and the preparatory month of Ellul, which starts on next week. . . . Of course the "psycho" of the "psycho-spiritual" of this particular workshop is not necessarily a required part of Ellul preparation! :)

Shabbat Shalom!

Alan the Kabbalist

Despite his ongoing protests, I have often suspected that Alan is a mystic at heart and now I have photographic proof! That's right, Alan has come to this holy city and been caught on film (or in pixels in this case) deeply immersed in kabbalah study.

Before you get the wrong impression, some explanation is in order. Kabbalah, a word often used to refer to the whole of the Jewish mystical tradition, comes from the root ק-ב-ל/k-b-l which in this form means "to receive" or "to accept." In this usage, kabbalah means "a tradition" or "that which is received." Jerusalem is a center of kabbalistic learning and people come here from all over the world to study with the city's many teachers --some deeply traditional, others wondrously innovative, and a handful who manage to be both. Personally, I am looking forward to the opportunity my time here affords me of learning Zohar (a central text in the Jewish mystical tradition) with Melila Hellner-Eshed. Melila is a wonderful teacher who I had the honor of meeting at the same retreat where I met Alan.

However, in another funny twist of using the holy language of Hebrew for our everyday interactions, "kabbalah" has some other meanings as well. It can mean simply "acceptance" or "approval." It is also a word that can be used for a reception desk.


And where do we now hear and use the word most in our daily lives? Well, it also means "receipt" as in "that piece of paper which you receive after you pay someone money."

So, after his shopping expeditions, Alan and I have been "studying kabbalah" together: looking over the receipts to get a sense of how much things cost and to build our grocery-shopping vocabulary. It's a good exercise which also promises to sharpen our skills at on-the-fly conversions from "shekels per kilo" to "dollars per pound."

Next time Alan claims not to be a kabbalist, I will have proof to the contrary. Here he is deeply immersed in studying kabbalah (while sitting next to the veggies he beautifully prepared for stir frying):

And in this next shot, I believe you can actually see the light of holiness shining on his sweet face:

X-y goes to the Mega

This morning I put the rack on the biike and -- after walking Minna to where she needed to pick up her ride to school -- went to the Mega (a huge discount supermarket about a mile from where we live) to stock up for Shabbat. A dream of mine was to be able to do my grocery shopping by bike in Jerusalem. Above is the bike -- which we call "X-y", by the way -- loaded with the 300 shekel (about $85) of groceries I bought. The panniers are REI 'Round Town panniers (now on sale at a great price there, by the way) with these great reusable shopping bags from reusablebags.com stuffed in them. These reusable bags are the size of an old-fashioned standard paper shopping bag.

When I got back to the apartment (quite sweaty from climbing up the steep hill to get there!) a young neighbor took an interest in my bike.

Here's another pic of the bike loaded.

It was a fun little ride! :) . . . . . Part of what I'm hoping to do, by the way, during my time in Jerusalem is to connect with the simplicity of life that I had when I lived here during my rabbinical school Israel year. . . . . Little things like not owning a car and walking almost everywhere . . . . Shutting off the water in the middle of the shower (in this water-poor country) to soap up and then only turning back on the water when it's time to rinse. . . Going shopping for fresh food -- vegetables! -- almost every day (in contrast to the processed-food and carbohydrate-heavy diet I have back in the States). . . . All those things are good for my soul. . . . . I remember how hard it was for me when I returned to the States after my Israel year and found myself in one of the most ostentatiously consumption-oriented places on the planet. Seeing all those people driving huge Mercedes SUVs and Ferraris and Hummers. . . Well, that was bad for my soul. . . . . Bringing a bike with me here for things like shopping is part of that wish to be good to my soul by living simply while I am here. . . . So, it wasn't just a fun ride, today. It was a soul-nurturing ride.

[X-posted to abayye]

How do people learn?

That's the big question I need to work to express an articulate answer to in the coming weeks. . . . As I write this I am sitting at a table in an apartment in Jerusalem. I had the opportunity to come and live here for two months for personal reasons, but I made a commitment to my employer that I would use this time to work on the papers I need to write as part of my effort to become certified as a professional teacher of chaplains and other spiritual caregivers. The next paper I need to write is about my educational theory.

Back before the summer started, I made a stab at writing in a single statement what I believe about how people learn:

Through participation in a loving community of mutual caring, learning and personal transformation led by a teacher/role model(s) able to bless students and give them a balance 1) of structure (דין/din) with flexibility/compassion (חסד/hesed), and 2) of immediate presence with (progressively increasing) withdrawal (tzimtzum).

That statement needed work then and it still does now. . . . . Most importantly, I need to do some serious work reflecting on how the work I did leading a group of chaplaincy students this summer relates to that statement. Is that really how the learning happened in practice? If not, is that because I a) really believe something different about how learning happens, or is it because b) I just didn't get it right this time (and I can work to better implement my theory next time I lead a group of chaplain students).

I also need to work towards asking myself what educational theorists or models correlate with my belief. I need to seek out those sources and engage them -- asking myself how they enrich, or undermine, my understanding.

I am so grateful to be able to do this work while I am in Jerusalem. I have missed this holy city so much. I have not been back since my rabbinical school year (2000-2001). . . . It is certainly a frightening place to be, however. . . Although it might surprise people to know what it is that I feel fear about. . . . It is not so much terrorism (although that is a real concern). It's the challenge of being somewhere so foreign. . . . Where just doing little things -- like going to the supermarket, or crossing the street -- can be confusing and make me feel small and incompetent. . . . . Minna put it well in a conversation she had with her Hebrew language teacher -- Jerusalem is a place of strong smells: both the beautiful smell of the abundant flowers . . . and also smells that are a bit more like manure. . . . This is a city of contrasts. I love it for that. Those contrasts are part of what makes life feel so incredibly intense here. . . I feel so alive here!!! . . . So grateful to the Holy Blessed One for sustaining me and upholding me so that I might see this, again.

[X-posted to abayye]

Out of the box

My bicycle, that is. I took a little study break yesterday to take it out of the box and reassemble it (the wheels, the seat, the handlebars, the pedals and the dérailleur all have to be taken off to get a bike in a box). I took a lunchtime ride to the center of the city. There seem to be quite a few more people getting around by bicycle in Jerusalem these days, and they seem to be determined to claim their rightful place on the streets (as opposed to the sidewalks). This leads to the strange happenstance where you are more likely to encounter a motorcycle or motor scooter coming down the sidewalk than you are a bicycle. . . . . The sidewalks are much more commonly used by motor vehicles than you find in the States. Not that people drive their cars much on the sidewalks, but they sure do park on them!


There's a bicycling advocacy organization in Jerusalem -- cyclejerusalem.org. I haven't connected with them yet, but I hope to soon!

Bus stop

I walked Minna there this morning, so she could get her bus to the Ulpan at Hebrew University. There was a bus just pulling away as we turned the corner to the bus stop, so it was a long wait for the next one.
But it finally came!


A soldier was walking by across the street while we were waiting.

After Minna got her bus, I went for a short walk around the neighborhood, seeing some of my old haunts from my Israel year back in 2000-2001. Most things are the same, but some have changed. The burger joint "Norman's" that had impossibly large burgers appears to be gone, replaced by a fancy Italian joint. I guess just another sign of the increasing gentrification of Israel in general and the German Colony neighborhood in particular.

I subletted an apartment in this house for about two weeks around Passover for my Mom. It was a nice place.

I'm looking forward to seeing my Mom in Israel, again. She's planning on being here around Sukkot.

I came to Israel to be able to spend time with Minna, but I made a commitment to my hospital to work hard on my certification process while I am here. I need to learn a lot about things like personality theory, so I can write the position papers required to show my mastery and understanding of the things that go into clinical pastoral supervision. I'm going to start today by reading this book:

Here I go -- off to study! :)

First morning . . .

. . . in Jerusalem!

The birds are singing and the sun is starting to come up.

I am so glad to be here!

Almost done . . . .

. . . packing. My flight is at 8:30pm, today, out of JFK. . . . I will be glad to be one the plane and on my way!

My Makolet

A מכולת/makolet, for the uninitiated, is like a convenience store only better. Mine is right around the corner from my house, just like a makolet should be. It opens up on Saturday night after shabbat goes out and I went over to buy a carton of milk (Milk comes in cartons now! Last time I was in Israel it only came in bags. Now you can buy it in bags or cartons) and a sugar-free chocolate bar (sugar-free sweets are much more prevalent here; this is lovely but given the unpleasant side effects of the most commonly used sweetener, malitol, it is a loveliness best enjoyed in small amounts).

In this dairy-rich country, there are many choices to be made at the dairy case, even in a small makolet. I bought something that I thought was 3% milk, but when I got home I realized that it was actually vanilla-milk and too sugary for me. I went right back to the makolet and the makoletnik was standing on the side walk with three buddies listening to music. I finally got his attention and asked if I could switch the milk because I just wanted regular milk.

He escorted me to the dairy case and proceeded to help me. He picked out a different milk and showed it to me, a 2% option that had some other words on it that I didn't immediately understand (מעושר סידן/m'ushar sidan). He said (in Hebrew) that it was healthy for my bones and then he tapped on my hand to emphasize his point. After figuring out that the words in question meant "enriched with calcium" I agreed that this was a good swap. He compared prices; the old milk was 8.50 and the new milk was 9. "No problem" he said and handed me my new, calcium-enriched, instantly-discounted, and hand-picked carton.

I walked home (again) pleased to be building a good relationship with this vital person in the neighborhood.

Alan flies tomorrow and, God willing, lands in Tel Aviv on Monday...we get to spend two whole months together!

Walking Distance

This afternoon I walked back from the shuk. Turns out it's not the best idea. At least, not when I have groceries to carry. I made it back without incident (luckily I had a big bottle of iced tea with me) but I think I'm just about beat for the rest of the afternoon/evening.

One thing I was looking for was a particular type of cutting board...not really a board, more like cutting sheets. I was able to learn how to say "cutting board" (קרש חתוך/keresh chituch) but I also discovered --to my chagrin-- quite a lot of words that are not in my vocabulary: "flexible," "you can roll it up," "not stiff." The good news is that I was able to communicate what I needed --I would roll up a piece of paper to demonstrate what I wanted or just keep saying "thinner, thinner" whenever they would show me a regular cutting board. The bad news is that none of the four places in the shuk nor the place right around the corner from me had what I was looking for. Some of them said they used to have them and were all out. I think one guy was trying to tell me that the company that used to make them didn't sell them anymore. And one woman did in fact have an example of what I wanted but it was her only one and she said she couldn't sell it to me.

I did a better job of saying "No" to things I didn't want in the shuk this time. I still need lots of practice, but it's a good arena for learning this vital skill.

Next time I will either figure out how to catch a bus that takes me to a bus that goes by my house or splurge on a cab (though the cost of the cab likely cancels out the savings of buying at the shuk).

Oh! And I learned how to say "cardamom." Oddly enough, the word is הל --pronounced "hell." That one I figured out because I recognized the seeds and was then able to ask for the ground stuff (and by "ask for" I mean "point to.")

First Toast

The oven has one knob with temperatures on it (in Celsius), one knob with indecipherable pictures...


...and one set of buttons with equally mysterious hints.

Yesterday evening, at Tamar C.'s, I looked at the manual for her oven which seemed to have some symbols in common. Boy, was I far off! The symbol that looked to me like little waves of water? Turns out it was actually little flames of fire, i.e., grill/roast. So, I scribbled down the symbols and their interpretations in my notebook and have so far had two oven successes:
1. Last night I set the clock.
2. Just now I made toast from left-over challah. Delish! (And made more especially so because I was careful in my Hebrew label-reading and had managed to come home with salted butter.)

Bougainvillea at the Bus Stop

This bus stop comes with bougainvillea (at least I think that's what it is...plant experts should feel free to correct me!). It's just another example for me of how it is especially easy in Jerusalem to witness the close proximity of beauty and the mundane.

It's a place where the dove is both a symbol of peace and the yearning for it and, well, basically a pigeon...except they don't seem to flock like pigeon's do. But even without the flocks they are just about the commonest bird sight here in the City of Peace (the nearest competition are the two-toned Hooded Crows). I can see two doves from my window as I type, one perched on an antenna and another on top of a דוד שמש/dood shemesh/solar powered water heater (which seems to come standard with most apartments here).

The other day, a dove came and perched on the windowsill with a tiny branch in its mouth (really!). It looked into the apartment as if it wanted to know if this would be a good place to nest. I told it there were already people living here. It flew away.

Speaking of seeing ourselves in animal behavior, my favorite new verb of the day: להאניש/l'he'enish/to anthropomorphize, a causitive verb using a form the word for "person."

I took a picture of white jasmine flowers growing next to red pomegranates, but my phone said the picture took up too much memory to send it anywhere. I am starting to know at which points on which sidewalks, I am likely to catch a whiff of jasmine or some other sweetness. The even commoner smell of various animal droppings...much harder to predict the when or where. Aswirl in the mix of holiness, fear, beauty and dirt, I am still trying to enjoy the flowers.

Shabbat and Homework

Note to self: You will never want to do homework on Saturday night even though you have class on Sunday. Do whatever needs to happen for Sunday on Thursday or Friday.

Putting aside my difficulty acclimatizing (in Hebrew: לאכלם/l'aclem; no really, that's the word!) to having classes on Sunday, I did have a wonderful shabbat. One true highlight was having shabbat dinner at Melila's. The crew included her husband (a sculptor), her teenage son (who made almost all the delicious food for dinner), two friends who were having birthdays, two other "couples-with-young-kids" (one of whom starting feeling the pain of an ear infection in the middle of the evening and had to be taken up the road to the 24-hour infirmary) and another teenager who I believe had at one point been adopted or at least fostered by one of the other families in attendance.

I met Melila at synagogue (Kol HaNeshama, a nearby Reform shul; yes, a Reform shul in Jerusalem!) and as we started walking home, I told her I only wanted to speak Hebrew. It turned out that the folks at dinner were mostly a Hebrew-speaking bunch so that was fine with them. Often, when I tell people where I'm living, they warn me that I'll have to work hard if I want to find any "real Israelis" to spend time with in my neighborhood. Melila and family are definitely that elusive catch! Not only are they "real Israelis" but also a warm and funny and smart bunch. At one point, they were all talking animatedly about something that I could only understand as "benches" and I struggled for a while trying to get the gist. Was ספסלים/safsalim sometimes used to mean something other than "benches?" Had I gotten it confused with something else? Was it a metaphor for something? No. Dror, Melila's husband (or her "beloved" or "couple-mate" as she refers to him) is, as I said, a sculptor and had just finished working on a series of large, ceramic benches for a park somewhere else in the country (Petach Tikva maybe?) and folks were talking about how well the benches had turned out. Then we looked at pictures and, yes, they definitely were benches and gorgeous artworks to boot.

Melila also generously gave me advice on some of the learning choices I have to make in the coming weeks. She is a Zohar scholar and I hope to get at least some opportunities to learn with her on a regular basis, but we also talked about how to accomplish my goal of truly immersing in Hebrew and being able to claim it as a language of mine. She even "set me up" with one of the other dinner guests (and a dear dear friend of hers, Yakira) who needs to improve her English in order to finish her degree.

We're hoping to meet, drink coffee (that might sometimes be our favorite part), and split our time between English and Hebrew. She'll bring texts that she needs to work on for her exams and I'll probably bring something from Ha'aretz (a daily Israeli newspaper with a reputation for excellent language...in some circles it is also regarding as somewhat pompous...at least that's what I think they were saying in Hebrew). I did a little bit of work with articles from Ha'aretz last year with my teacher Harvey B. and it turns out that I love reading (and struggling through with dictionary in hand) their book reviews. I've printed out one that I think is about dream interpretation and one that may or may not be about a new book from France about the Salem witch trials. I tried to call Yakira, but she was wrangling a cranky baby (yet another Tamar!) so, we'll see if we get to start meeting this week or not.

I'm blogging from Tamar C.'s where I've been hanging out in the air conditioning, doing some homework, avoiding some other homework, and now we're going to eat delicious meat-y leftovers!

First trip to the shuk!

I had a good first trip to the shuk today. I was blessed with a wonderful מדריכה (madricha/guide) in Tamar C. who met me at our usual meeting spot at 10am (three of us share a taxi to school in the mornings and we meet at a mutually convenient bus stop). She truly gave me a personal guided tour and was so generous with her time: I didn't realize til half-way through the trip that she wasn't planning on buying anything herself! I felt like I was in good hands. And that was before she insisted on carrying the half-a-watermelon home for me from the bus stop!!!

I am not an expert shopper in the best of circumstances, so I was not as in my element (or as excited to be out of my element) as some might be. For example, I'm not good at arguing or bargaining yet. But I did manage to remember the Hebrew word for lentils! It's עדשים (adashim)...not to be confused with עדשות (adashot) which means "contact lenses." I also bought brown rice, parsley, tomatoes, cucumbers, mangoes, a few sabra fruits (after the guy in the stall opened one and fed it to us to tempt us), dates, almonds, eggplant (in only one of its prepared varieties), and challah! These all came from seven or so different stalls. I still have a few things I need to buy to prepare for shabbat, but I think I'll go to the "Mister Zol" supermarket around the corner.

When I saw these fish, I was reminded of my friend Ed (who I used to sail with). He was not a vegetarian, but he didn't eat fish. When asked why he would always say, "I like my fish swimmin'" --these fish were so fresh they almost were still swimmin'! Maybe my little brother or some other fish expert will have a look at the pic and enlighten us as to what kind of fish they are.

Once Alan gets here and our kitchen is more up to speed, I will look forward to future trips to the shuk together. As his post shows, he loves the place and marketing in general...I think it's a form of recreation for him. I am especially looking forward to buying chicken and other meat there (on this trip I went in a dairy direction, buying a large block of goat feta). Tamar also showed me how some of the beef is coded with numbers that refer to where on the animal that cut comes from.

Tonight I'm going to shabbat dinner at Melila's and then tomorrow Tamar G. (my life is filled with Tamars!) and hopefully a few other people are coming for shabbat lunch. This is shabbat Nachamu, a time of comfort after the nadir of Tisha B'av. Shabbat shalom!

Minna has tomorrow . . . .

. . . off from school. It's Israel, after all!! Many programs have Friday off, but start the week on Sunday (for a Sunday through Thursday week).

I hear a rumor that Minna is going to be preparing for Shabbat. That means some shopping for food. I wonder whether she will go to the Shuk? . . . . If she goes maybe she will tell us something about it.

I hope she has fun and has a wonderful Shabbat full of rest and good company and joy!

Minna walked up the hill . . .

. . . that leads to Machon Schechter, yesterday. Countless times I walked up that (steep!) hill on way to Schechter where I spent most of my time studying during my Israel year (2000-2001), so it brought back warm memories to hear Minna recount the effort it took to go up that beautiful hillside. That walk was part of what I loved so much about my year there.

Minna, however, was not on her way to Schechter, but to a much larger and more famous institution next door -- the Israel Museum. Her Ulpan was on a field trip there. It sounded like she had a great time!

It is hard for me to believe that I will be in Israel, too, in only a week and a half. . . So much packing and such to do before then! . . . But talking with Minna -- especially, about the little details of life there, like the shopkeeper with the little store who gave her a discount on her purchase because he didn't want to make change for her 100 shekel note -- I am starting to be able to taste it, again. . . It's been much too long (about 7 years now) since I've been back. . . I can't wait! :)

Century!

Alan rode his bike for over 100 miles yesterday!!!
When last we spoke, he was back on the bike today and heading for Kulpsville, PA....

What's a minhag?

My ulpan class includes some Americans but also folks from Russia, Poland, Norway, Peru, and France, as well as several young women whose first language is Arabic. Some are Israeli citizens, others are visiting for a summer or for the year. I love language learning and I'm always amazed and amused at the how language and culture so inextricably intertwine...and sometimes unravel from one another. One aspect of this which is particularly striking to me comes from being a rabbinical student learning Modern Israeli Hebrew in a secular Jewish/Israeli context. Not only the non-Jews in the class, but also a number of the Jews are clearly coming from a very different place than I am Jewishly.

Today, we were forming nouns from verbs. These are similar to but not necessarily gerunds (like "gardening" from the verb "to garden" or "driving" from "to drive"). One example that came up was the noun "minhag" (something that one does customarily, sometimes translated as "custom") which is related to the verb meaning "to behave." The world "minhag" comes up a lot in Jewish religious circles, not the least in the arguments about whether or not there is a difference between a minhag and a law and when something that starts as a minhag becomes a law. But it's also used informally to talk about the different customs of different communities or families. For example, in my school, some teachers have a minhag of starting class with some singing.

This morning, our teacher used the word "minhag" as an example of the grammatical form at hand. One of the Russian students, a new Jewish immigrant, asked, "Mah zeh minhag?" What's a minhag? And it was a shocking reminder of what different Jewish worlds we come from. Another funny example of this today was --in the context of the same grammatical form-- when the verb "l'khaper" (לכפר/to atone) came up. It was used as an example of an irregular noun form (kapara/כפרה/atonement) of the verb. This is the same root that gives us "Yom Kippur" or "Yom HaKippurim/יום הכפורים/The Day of Atonement." The teacher must have been getting blank stares from a number of students when she used this example. She quickly reassured us all, in Hebrew, that we should not worry about this irregular form since it wasn't a very important verb. Needless to say, in the world of rabbinical school, it is a very important verb.

On the other hand, I was totally lost in a recent conversation in the class between the teacher and many of the students because I had no clue that the phrase they were throwing around meant "bachelors degree."

My turn to prompt...

Last time I talked to Alan he was in Philly having ridden his bike there from Reading and he still had "miles to go before [he'd] sleep"...gee, I do hope he will blog about his journey! I'm having big naches here in Jerusalem where it is already midnight and time for bed.

Shabbat and Tisha B'av

Shabbat was lovely. My classmate Brian stayed with me and shabbos included a full complement of services, meals, and rest. Friday evening we went to davenning at Yakar (an Orthodox shul right down the street from me) and then dinner at Shira and Ken's (delicious!). I went to Saturday morning services at Kol HaNeshama (the Reform shul a 15 minute walk from here) and then several of us (including Brian on his new bike!) converged on Aaron and Debra's place for lunch (also delicious!). Then, after fitful napping, we went to Daniel's aunt and uncle's for seudah shlishit. After shabbat was over, we went to the Tayelet/Promenade which overlooks Jerusalem for the south and began our observance of Tisha B'av.

I was surprised at how much I enjoyed being at Yakar. In the States I almost never choose to go to a minyan with a mehitza (which divides men and women into different seating sections). What I liked best were the melodies, many of which were new to me and some of which were obviously chosen because they matched the mood of the approaching Tisha B'av. One thing that might have helped (and which I want to keep in mind for the future) is that at a Friday evening service, there is no Torah reading and no one is wearing a tallis (except maybe the person leading). Not being able to wear my tallit and feeling cut off from the Torah are perhaps the two most painful aspects of Orthodox worship for me, so it may be that sidestepping those contributed to my high comfort level. Another thing I realized is that I was actually more comfortable in this setting than I am in settings where women have only recently been allowed to lead some aspects of the service. Having grown up in settings where women were rabbis and participated equally in all aspects of the service, the practice of allowing women to lead some but not all parts of the service (which to many is new and innovative and powerful) feels to me like being thrown a bone (and being told to enjoy it). In any case, it feels good to have found a place I like very much (at least for Kabbalat Shabbat) right around the corner. Great singing in both the men's and women's sections!

I spent today fasting and went to Yakar for the reading of Eicha/Lamentations and then reciting aloud a very moving set of texts --some old and some new. I'm still not sure what to make of the experience of mourning a destroyed Jerusalem in this Jerusalem. What I do know is that I don't feel there is any lack of brokenness in this world --much less in Jerusalem itself-- and I deeply appreciate being part of a tradition that makes sacred space for communal grief. As Brian reminded me, there are also strong and strongly moving connections between Tisha B'av and the High Holy Days, as we mark the beginning of a seven-week period of ascent from the low point of Tisha B'av to the high point of the concluding prayers on Yom Kippur. I do feel blessed to be here for this cycle.

And now, I have to write an essay for my ulpan.

First Shabbat . . .

. . . in Minna's new apartment approaches! What yummy things will she have to eat? I hear a rumor she is taking in a guest for Shabbat. Will she daven at Yakar (just down the street!)? Will her new fan keep her cool at night?

Shabbat Shalom, Minna!

My Many Fans

It's true, I admit it, I do enjoy thinking of myself as having multiple fans, but in this case I'm talking about those spinny things that move the air around. I was so glad to see that the apartment came with a couple--good not only for cooling off, but for shooing away mosquitoes and other buggies that enjoy coming in through windows left wide open to the cool Jerusalem night. It seemed like just another one of the many perks this place continues to reveal.

I had a very hard time sleeping last night --first day of school jitters combined with first night all alone in new apartment with new noises and the like. So at 1:30am or so I decided that a fan might be just the thing: it would cool me off so I could snuggle under the covers and the white noise would help too. I got the first fan from the living room and plugged it in. It shook so hard that it jumped around and would soon have walked a few feet and unplugged itself had the noise been bearable enough to let it run. I tried every setting, I tried giving it a shake or two; no luck. There was another fan in the other room, a cute little number that could clip on to the end of the desk AND oscillate. I tried to plug it in, but the plug turned out to be...not Israeli and not American. I stupidly tried using my American plug adaptor with it. It seemed to fit but still wouldn't run --and thank goodness because in my insomniac stupor it hadn't occurred to me that it needed a transformer in order not to make very bad things happen. So there I was, without a single fan.

On my way home today, I decided to stop on Emek Refayim for coffee and a visit to the little store with school supplies that Tamar showed me last week. Walking from the coffee shop to the little store, I saw three different fans sitting out on the street in front of what looked something like a hardware store. I picked a nice standing fan and was ready to pay for it and truck it home (a 10-15 minute walk) when they asked if I wanted one that was already put together or one that was in a carton. Turned out that these were "floor models" --or sidewalk models in this case. Thinking that a box would probably be easier to carry, I went for that option and the store owner even wrapped some plastic around it to improvise a handle. If you look closely, you can see said handle.

Then began the adventure of putting it together. Despite the patriotic Americana on the outside of the box, the instructions were all in Hebrew. Some of them required me to use the handy-dandy online dictionaries that Alan included in the "goodies" of this blog. At first I despaired at not having a screwdriver but then I remembered that I could use the pocket knife that Sarah S. gave me as a bridesmaid's gift! When I finished the assembly, I realized for the first time that this fan has an ingenious feature that I've never seen before: a built-in sleep timer!

Here's the new fan next to the one that jumps all over the floor:



Here's hoping for a more restful night!

First night

Minna is having her first night of sleeping in her new apartment (address: מבצע קדש 3).

And tomorrow (Wednesday) is her first day of Ulpan at Hebew U.

I hope you have a great day, Minna!!!

Jerusalem bound

No, not the bicycle, unfortunately (as much as I would like to have it in Jerusalem, but it's just too much of a hassle to take a bike on an international flight). But I'm going to bring these panniers (REI "'Round Town" open-top panniers), and maybe the rack, too. I want to buy a used bike there and then sell it to someone when I leave.

Crazy to ride a bike in Jerusalem? Maybe. But Minna says she's spotted lots of riders. And there are cycling advocacy/community groups working to make Israel more bicycle friendly:

• ישראל בשביל אופניים
  • ירושלים (english )

Also, there's another Hazon ride coming up. I would love to go along:

• 2009 Spring Hazon Israel Ride (April 28-May 5; Tel Aviv to Eilat)

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Enjoy!

Pizza in the Neighborhood

Went out for a slice of pizza (with mushrooms!) and a salad around the corner and made three wonderful discoveries. Well, four if you include the pizza place itself. First and foremost, I ran into my classmate, Shira who --at least for the next couple of weeks-- is also my new neighbor. She was rushing off to prepare for a trip to the desert, but it was good to catch a glimpse of her. I believe I also stumbled upon our wireless benefactors as the connection I'm using bears the same name as this street and house number:



(If the folks at 27 HaPortzim want us to chip in, we're happy to!)

Finally, on my way back into our own building I discovered that it comes with lantana
--a stinky but beautiful flowery shrub whose pungent odor, rainbow-sherbet flowers, and sticky vegetation transport me immediately to Santa Monica circa 1976.









And now I must finish those reports....

Moving In

Just moved into my new apartment. Unlike other moves in recent months, this one was just a short taxi ride. And now, I'm writing this from the couch in the picture. One of my young neighbors, a boy of perhaps 10 or 11, wanted to pass me as I was on my way up the stairs with the last suitcases. Instead of trying to get past me though, he asked if I needed help!

After carrying one of the suitcases up the stairs, and informing me that he knew exactly where it needed to go, he said something else to me in Hebrew which I completely didn't catch. I didn't want to ask him to repeat himself a third time so then I told him my name and he told me his. I hope he wasn't asking me an important question or telling me something I'll regret not knowing.

The apartment is large and comfortable, well-furnished and homey, and --because the last tenants were also American students who are leaving the country-- it comes with lots of "starter" items like dish soap, plenty of rolls of toilet paper, hangers, some plates and silverware (divided into neatly labeled "milk" and "meat" drawers and cabinets), and the like.

Having this apartment is such a blessing! It belongs to friends of Alan's and I am so grateful that it worked out for me to rent it.

For the time being anyway, it also seems to have free wireless. My mission for today:
Finish writing my student reports.
Explore the apartment and the neighborhood more.
Clean the fridge (one of the very few bits and pieces left undone).
Buy a few groceries.
Unpack a bit.
Make sure I know how to get where I need to be to start ulpan (intensive Hebrew study) at 8:30 tomorrow morning.

Maybe I'll go find a little lunch first. I think there's a pizza place around the corner....

Minna's First Day in Jerusalem

This is a place for us to share our impressions of the coming year with each other and with you. Hopefully Alan and I will have time/energy for more posts once we are both done writing student reports/evaluations. I arrived in Jerusalem last Wednesday, and wrote this on Thursday while still recovering from jet lag and a bad stomach thing:
Finally made it out of the house at 5:30 this afternoon. My stomach felt almost fully recovered and I was still sleepy but a bit antsy as well.
I walked out and immediately felt various intertwined emotions:
Relieved that my tummy felt better.
Displaced, loss, lost.
Simply afraid.
Curious and intrigued by the flora which was simultaneously unfamiliar and deeply nostalgic (both because it reminded me of other time in Israel and because it reminds me of the Southern California of my youth).
Lonely and somehow deeply abandoned/unwanted.

I tried to concentrate on my feet on the sidewalk, grounding myself in the reality of being here, breathing in the air, noticing the colors and textures around me, rooting myself in the immediate experiences of the senses. My hope is that curiosity, wonder, and hope itself will soon provide some needed ballast and/or buoyancy.

I did feel confident in finding my way to the cafe that Frankie had told me about. I didn't think I had heard of it before, Cafe Hillel on Emek Refayim, but when I Googled it, I was quickly reminded that I had definitely heard of the bombing there in September 2003 which killed seven, including a father and his soon-to-have-been-married daughter. I found it easily, after passing, among other sights, a bike shop just close to where Emek Refayim intersects with Pierre Koenig. I took pictures with my phone but now I don't know how to get them off of my phone and into a more usable format.

I ordered (in Hebrew) "iced coffee" and piece of mushroom quiche. It cost 62 NIS and I'm glad that I didn't do the math right away because I would have been shocked to spend this much on a snack. I thought "iced coffee" would be black coffee over ice; it turned out to be more like a frappuccino, a blended, iced drink complete with milk and....sugar (from which I've been abstaining for the 15 months). I decided to drink it anyway, figuring that a dose of sugar at this point might actually do me some good (sugar tends to take the edge off of my emotions and being slightly drugged just now didn't seem like such a bad thing). The quiche came with a massive mound of the freshest salad imaginable! So much for a simple little snack. The waitress who brought my coffee and the waiter who brought my massive salad and quiche each wished me "b'teyavon" and smiled sweetly which felt like a very warm welcome.

I sat and enjoyed my meal, hoping that my tummy could handle it and continually gazing around at the other customers thinking, "there are so many Jews here!"

On my way home I met the first of innumerable kittens-I-will-not-be-

adopting. He was a tiny grey tabby, probably only seven or eight weeks old and skinny as can be. It broke my heart not to be able to pet him and give him a home, but I am committed to remaining faithful to the Littles and also to remembering that I cannot adopt ALL the needy kittens in the city. There is something about being here that the kitten sums up for me somehow: an undying innocence combined with deep heartache; pervasive brokenness and an unbroken will to live.