Today was my first day at Pardes. I arrived at 8:45 and filled out paperwork and then waited around a bit. By 9:30 or so we gathered into an opening meeting and introduced ourselves, learned about the different course options, and generally got oriented. Of course, there were several connections with folks--first, with a former student, Lauren. I taught her at Beth Tfiloh six years ago--in fact, I wrote a college recommendation for her, and she just graduated. There are also a couple of alums of my current school in the program. Again, it's a small world.
So far, the program seems great. Tonight I started one of my elective sort of classes, Jewish papercutting. We started on a project right away, and it is pretty easy but also requires lots of patience and focus--very good for my obsessive tendencies! Tomorrow morning I start my Talmud and Torah yoga classes, which will meet four and five times a week, and I will also start Uplan (Hebrew language class). I'm really looking forward to it.
Everyone here is extremely engaged and excited to be studying; there's a great energy. Many people are in transition, either graduating college or post-graduate work, switching careers, considering aliyah, or something like that. It was actually odd to introduce myself and realize that I'm one of the few people actually "settled"--here for my three weeks but then going right back to where I came from. Matthew pointed out to me recently that I have always been a "what iffer"--agonizing over choices made and choices foregone. So it was interesting to realize that although I was happy for all the people in transition or still figuring out their paths, I was also pretty grateful to be a little further along the path. I certainly don't have as many options as I once did--every choice means many others are precluded, but I guess I've come to some sort of peace with that. Living in Israel for a month is ceratinly an adventure I wouldn't have necessarily predicted, so it isn't as if everything is all decided and all choices made. In any case, as I introduced myself today, I felt pretty satisfied with my lot.
Today was very social, and it has been a bit of a transition from having many days completely on my own, with lots of introspection and a bit of lonliness to meeting one hundred very enthusiastic new friends. I already have a Shabbat lunch invitiation and dinner plans for tomorrow evening.
Another advantage of Pardes is that the wireless connection is excellent. I've been skyping with Matthew and Miri every day, but today was the best connection by far. I also got to skype with my office back in NJ--unfortunately, though I have been able to limit my time on email, etc, I haven't been able to completely check out from work.
The other nice thing that happened today is that I surfed to Elie's camp's website and found a great picture of her--smiling and having a great time. I was so thrilled to see her face! So, that's all I have to report for now. Tomorrow or the next day I hope I'll be able to give you a sense of what my Talmud class is like.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Shabbat and the Kotel
I woke up yesterday morning on Israeli time--I had stayed up way past comfort until 8:30 pm local time Friday night so that I would sleep a full night (and then some!) and wake up on local time, and that's exactly what happened, thank goodness! After a leisurely breakfast, I made my way to Michelle's for Shabbat lunch. It was lovely--along with Michelle were her husband, kids, and a friend and her daughter. Not surprisingly, there was some "Jewish geography." Her husband taught in day schools in the US and has family in Baltimore, so we knew about a dozen people in common. It's a small, small Jewish world!
After lunch, I returned to the apartment and changed to comfortable shoes, and armed with a street map, set off for the Old City. I think if you are moving at a fairly brisk pace and know where you are going, the walk should take about forty minutes. With a few detours and confusions and a few rest stops, about an hour and a half later, I found the Kotel (Western Wall).
It was quite an experience. First, I came through to the entrance to the Wall plaza by way of a bunch of alleys that included lots of open stalls full of stuff, including lots of Judaica. It was odd to see them open and to be approached pretty aggressively on Shabbat, especially because pretty much everything else in the city is closed down. There aren't too many signs for anything in the part of the city I was walking in (I actually found my way into the Old City, through the Zion Gate, pretty much by accident), so I was really kind of wandering when I finally found one of the entrances to the plaza.
When you enter the plaza, it's a large flat area with a bunch of people milling around. Almost everyone there was "frum," or Orthodox. I'm guessing that there might be a bit more diversity on days other than Shabbat, but who knows? Anyway, the plaza is open and people are milling around, chatting, kids running, etc. Then, in front of that, is the wall, with two closed off sections, one for men, one for women. Of course, I knew this ahead of time, but I guess I am pretty used to my egalitarian Jewish life in the US; it actually kind of freaked me out. I entered the women's section and made my way to the wall. I had brought a note to put in the cracks, which I did, and I said "shehechiyanu." It was very emotional for me to be there--hard to imagine that it had taken me 42 years to get to that exact spot. It also felt odd, though, to be alone. Good in a way, but also strange not to be sharing the experience. I was also sad to see all the women praying alone, when just over the mechitza, I could hear a mincha service being publicly prayed by groups of men.
As I backed away from the wall, I noticed that there was a very large bookshelf of siddurim. I took one and davened mincha quickly and then left the women's area. I have to admit, it was a different visit than I had anticipated. I think I was expecting an unambivalent spiritual experience, but coming up against the ingrained patriarchal slant of Judaism, a part of the tradition I reject/ignore/deny/work against, was troubling. As much as I wanted to be a pilgrim, how can this Wall really belong to me if I can't pray publicly in front of it? It wasn't what I expected to feel. I am hoping to go back before I leave Jerusalem--perhaps bringing with me some particular psalms and prayers and perhaps going on a weekday so that I can write while I'm there. I think there may be more for me there than I experienced yesterday.
After the Wall, I wandered out of the Old City on a slightly different path and headed back to the apartment. The route to and from the Old City that I took was Emek Refaim, one of the main streets in my area. It is a happening sort of street, with lots of restaurants, salons, and shops--sort of like Charles Street in B'more. One of the things I really like so far about Jerusalem is that it is a walking city. There were many people out and about, even though everything was closed. I got a kick out of seeing a McDonald's made all out of Jerusalem stone.
I've been really struck by the architecture and buildings here. The Jerusalem stone is everywhere--it gives the city the feel of permanence, and also of consistency, like everything belongs here and belongs together. I am also impressed by the way things are put together--there are gardens and courtyards for almost every house and apartment, and there's public seating, benches, parks, all around. I love the book "A Pattern Language," which is about design and planning, and it talks a lot about how patterns of design influence human behavior, and I can really see that here. It's a city designed for people to walk, talk, and be in conversation.
I should finish here now--my classes start tomorrow and I've puttered and napped part of the morning away and now need to make a grocery run. I'll be buying lots of bottled water, as it is quite hot here, and I got a little dehydrated yesterday. Looking forward to starting at Pardes tomorrow.
After lunch, I returned to the apartment and changed to comfortable shoes, and armed with a street map, set off for the Old City. I think if you are moving at a fairly brisk pace and know where you are going, the walk should take about forty minutes. With a few detours and confusions and a few rest stops, about an hour and a half later, I found the Kotel (Western Wall).
It was quite an experience. First, I came through to the entrance to the Wall plaza by way of a bunch of alleys that included lots of open stalls full of stuff, including lots of Judaica. It was odd to see them open and to be approached pretty aggressively on Shabbat, especially because pretty much everything else in the city is closed down. There aren't too many signs for anything in the part of the city I was walking in (I actually found my way into the Old City, through the Zion Gate, pretty much by accident), so I was really kind of wandering when I finally found one of the entrances to the plaza.
When you enter the plaza, it's a large flat area with a bunch of people milling around. Almost everyone there was "frum," or Orthodox. I'm guessing that there might be a bit more diversity on days other than Shabbat, but who knows? Anyway, the plaza is open and people are milling around, chatting, kids running, etc. Then, in front of that, is the wall, with two closed off sections, one for men, one for women. Of course, I knew this ahead of time, but I guess I am pretty used to my egalitarian Jewish life in the US; it actually kind of freaked me out. I entered the women's section and made my way to the wall. I had brought a note to put in the cracks, which I did, and I said "shehechiyanu." It was very emotional for me to be there--hard to imagine that it had taken me 42 years to get to that exact spot. It also felt odd, though, to be alone. Good in a way, but also strange not to be sharing the experience. I was also sad to see all the women praying alone, when just over the mechitza, I could hear a mincha service being publicly prayed by groups of men.
As I backed away from the wall, I noticed that there was a very large bookshelf of siddurim. I took one and davened mincha quickly and then left the women's area. I have to admit, it was a different visit than I had anticipated. I think I was expecting an unambivalent spiritual experience, but coming up against the ingrained patriarchal slant of Judaism, a part of the tradition I reject/ignore/deny/work against, was troubling. As much as I wanted to be a pilgrim, how can this Wall really belong to me if I can't pray publicly in front of it? It wasn't what I expected to feel. I am hoping to go back before I leave Jerusalem--perhaps bringing with me some particular psalms and prayers and perhaps going on a weekday so that I can write while I'm there. I think there may be more for me there than I experienced yesterday.
After the Wall, I wandered out of the Old City on a slightly different path and headed back to the apartment. The route to and from the Old City that I took was Emek Refaim, one of the main streets in my area. It is a happening sort of street, with lots of restaurants, salons, and shops--sort of like Charles Street in B'more. One of the things I really like so far about Jerusalem is that it is a walking city. There were many people out and about, even though everything was closed. I got a kick out of seeing a McDonald's made all out of Jerusalem stone.
I've been really struck by the architecture and buildings here. The Jerusalem stone is everywhere--it gives the city the feel of permanence, and also of consistency, like everything belongs here and belongs together. I am also impressed by the way things are put together--there are gardens and courtyards for almost every house and apartment, and there's public seating, benches, parks, all around. I love the book "A Pattern Language," which is about design and planning, and it talks a lot about how patterns of design influence human behavior, and I can really see that here. It's a city designed for people to walk, talk, and be in conversation.
I should finish here now--my classes start tomorrow and I've puttered and napped part of the morning away and now need to make a grocery run. I'll be buying lots of bottled water, as it is quite hot here, and I got a little dehydrated yesterday. Looking forward to starting at Pardes tomorrow.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Day One
After an eleven hour flight on a full plane and nearly two whole hours of sleep, I arrived this morning in Israel. I was pretty dazed but managed to make it through passport and customs and claim my bags, change some dollars to sheckels, get a pretty lousy and expensive cup of coffee, find a pay phone, and call my contact person, Michelle, to let her know I was on my way.
I think most of you already know this, but I am in Israel by myself this summer to study at Pardes, a sort-of yeshiva. More on that at another time. Since I'm here on my own, I made arrangements to sublet a studio apartment about 5 minutes walk from Pardes from a very nice American living in Israel. Her name is Lisa, and she is a human rights advocate. She's doing some kind of professional development course in the UK this summer, which is why she is subletting. Anyway, Michelle is her very nice neighbor, and she let me into the apartment. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
First, I had to find my way from the airport to Jerusalem. I had been advised that a shared taxi, or sherut, was the way to go. I found one, but quickly learned that it doesn't quite work the way I expected. First, the driver refused to leave until he had enough people to make the trip worthwhile in his estimation. For quite some time, it was just me and this very nice couple, and the driver kept haranguing us, asking where everyone else was. We kept assuring him that we had stopped to get bags, change money, etc. and that there really weren't swarms of people just behind us--we, in fact, had been at the end of the exiting passengers. He seemed to take this very personally!
Finally, after waiting about twenty minutes, with us asking every five minutes when we would leave and being told, "in five minutes," he managed to round up three other passengers and finally decided to go. The time crunch was making me nervous, though, as it was getting towards 11 am, and most of the stores in Jerusalem close early Friday afternoon. I was worrying that I wouldn't be able to buy any food or anything until Sunday if he didn't step on it.
Once we got under way, I tried to enjoy the beauty around me, but I got pretty motion sick pretty quickly. Jerusalem is very beautiful and very, very hilly. But I got a full tour, as all five other passengers were dropped off before me--I was the last stop. The driver let me out at my address, 21 Yehuda Street, in the neighborhood called Talpiyot. The only problem was, I was over an hour later than planned, and Michelle was nowhere to be seen. Truth be told, I couldn't even find #41 for a moment and had my first real panic.
But here's the funny part--someone then stopped me for directions! Poor woman. She was, needless to say, disappointed. I could barely tell her I couldn't help in my sad Hebrew. But she quickly found another option, as a very nice young woman speaking on a cell phone passed us. Once she had sent the first lost soul on her way, she helped me find #41, drag my bags into the courtyard, find Michelle's very nice note, and then call Michelle on her cell phone. Two minutes later, Michelle appeared (she lives two doors down) and gave me my key, a quick orientation to the unfamiliar appliances, directions to the nearest grocery stores, and an invitation to Shabbat lunch tomorrow.
Once in, I set up my computer, emailed home, and then set off for the grocery store. What followed was an exercise in humilation and education which I will perhaps elaborate upon another time (all the labels are in HEBREW!), but after some confusion and aimless wandering, I managed to secure some expensive provisions, shlep them home, and have an initial Skype conversation with Matthew and Miri, though our connection wasn't great.
Well, most of this seems very practical in nature--the challenges of getting adjusted to a strange country where you only speak a bit of the language. So, what is it like to be in Israel, though?
I'm not sure I know how to answer the question yet--it still feels very surreal. It feels both utterly foreign and somehow very familiar. It's amazing to see so many flavors of Jews in one place, especially as they aren't "diluted" into a much larger general population. It's weird to understand enough Hebrew to get the gist of most conversations but never understand completely and be almost useless when it comes time to answer.
It also just feels strange to be half way across the world. But exciting. My goal is to stay open to new experiences and to soak in as much as I can. To try to roll with the punches a little, which isn't always easy for me. I'll sign off now--time for a shower and to get ready for Shabbat. With love from Jerusalem--
I think most of you already know this, but I am in Israel by myself this summer to study at Pardes, a sort-of yeshiva. More on that at another time. Since I'm here on my own, I made arrangements to sublet a studio apartment about 5 minutes walk from Pardes from a very nice American living in Israel. Her name is Lisa, and she is a human rights advocate. She's doing some kind of professional development course in the UK this summer, which is why she is subletting. Anyway, Michelle is her very nice neighbor, and she let me into the apartment. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
First, I had to find my way from the airport to Jerusalem. I had been advised that a shared taxi, or sherut, was the way to go. I found one, but quickly learned that it doesn't quite work the way I expected. First, the driver refused to leave until he had enough people to make the trip worthwhile in his estimation. For quite some time, it was just me and this very nice couple, and the driver kept haranguing us, asking where everyone else was. We kept assuring him that we had stopped to get bags, change money, etc. and that there really weren't swarms of people just behind us--we, in fact, had been at the end of the exiting passengers. He seemed to take this very personally!
Finally, after waiting about twenty minutes, with us asking every five minutes when we would leave and being told, "in five minutes," he managed to round up three other passengers and finally decided to go. The time crunch was making me nervous, though, as it was getting towards 11 am, and most of the stores in Jerusalem close early Friday afternoon. I was worrying that I wouldn't be able to buy any food or anything until Sunday if he didn't step on it.
Once we got under way, I tried to enjoy the beauty around me, but I got pretty motion sick pretty quickly. Jerusalem is very beautiful and very, very hilly. But I got a full tour, as all five other passengers were dropped off before me--I was the last stop. The driver let me out at my address, 21 Yehuda Street, in the neighborhood called Talpiyot. The only problem was, I was over an hour later than planned, and Michelle was nowhere to be seen. Truth be told, I couldn't even find #41 for a moment and had my first real panic.
But here's the funny part--someone then stopped me for directions! Poor woman. She was, needless to say, disappointed. I could barely tell her I couldn't help in my sad Hebrew. But she quickly found another option, as a very nice young woman speaking on a cell phone passed us. Once she had sent the first lost soul on her way, she helped me find #41, drag my bags into the courtyard, find Michelle's very nice note, and then call Michelle on her cell phone. Two minutes later, Michelle appeared (she lives two doors down) and gave me my key, a quick orientation to the unfamiliar appliances, directions to the nearest grocery stores, and an invitation to Shabbat lunch tomorrow.
Once in, I set up my computer, emailed home, and then set off for the grocery store. What followed was an exercise in humilation and education which I will perhaps elaborate upon another time (all the labels are in HEBREW!), but after some confusion and aimless wandering, I managed to secure some expensive provisions, shlep them home, and have an initial Skype conversation with Matthew and Miri, though our connection wasn't great.
Well, most of this seems very practical in nature--the challenges of getting adjusted to a strange country where you only speak a bit of the language. So, what is it like to be in Israel, though?
I'm not sure I know how to answer the question yet--it still feels very surreal. It feels both utterly foreign and somehow very familiar. It's amazing to see so many flavors of Jews in one place, especially as they aren't "diluted" into a much larger general population. It's weird to understand enough Hebrew to get the gist of most conversations but never understand completely and be almost useless when it comes time to answer.
It also just feels strange to be half way across the world. But exciting. My goal is to stay open to new experiences and to soak in as much as I can. To try to roll with the punches a little, which isn't always easy for me. I'll sign off now--time for a shower and to get ready for Shabbat. With love from Jerusalem--
Thursday, June 26, 2008
June 26 packed up and (almost) ready to go
Well, not so unusually for me, I've had a (possibly?) great idea at the last minute. I leave for Israel at 4 this afternoon and have decided now, at 8:27, that what I really need is a blog of this trip. Mainly what happened is I changed my email address to facilitate better access while I'm away, and then I sent it to my friends and family. And what do you know, lots of them emailed back asking what the heck I was doing, how long I'd be gone, etc. Well, I'm not quite self-centered enough to think people will be wanting regular email updates about my trip, but, I thought, maybe some of them will want to check out what I've been up to, and maybe a blog will force me to do a little bit of literary and photographic documentation of what is sure to be an interesting trip.
So, I make no promises--this may be the first and last blog you see from me. But maybe not . . . In any case, I arrive in Israel tomorrow at 10 am local time (it will be 3 am, however, in my tired, old body). I hope the next time you read anything on this site, it will be from me in Jerusalem.
So, I make no promises--this may be the first and last blog you see from me. But maybe not . . . In any case, I arrive in Israel tomorrow at 10 am local time (it will be 3 am, however, in my tired, old body). I hope the next time you read anything on this site, it will be from me in Jerusalem.
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