When's Your Bat Mitzvah?

I was sitting in the third row back, center, in 8th grade algebra. West Sylvan was a new school and I didn't recognize anyone in the class. About 20 minutes into class, the pretty girl sitting directly in front of me swiveled around and asked, "So, when was your Bat Mitzvah?"
"Um, er, ah...." Not sure exactly what she said, or how she could have guessed that I even had a Bat Mitzvah, I couldn't respond.

That girl was/is my close friend AC. She had recently had her own Bat Mitzvah and knew that I was Jewish too. We became very close friends throughout Middle School, High School and even traveled in Europe together where her French fluency came is great use.

The week after I departed for Israel, AC got married at one of the most beautiful places I can imagine, Timberline Lodge. Alas, I wasn't there. My other friends who attended the wedding said that there was an empty chair that was supposed to be mine.

Good news for me, AC is having a repeat ceremony in Germany because her hubbie is from Worms (I've learned it's not pronounced exactly how it's spelled) and I'm attending. Germany is complicated for me. I had two grandparents who were German refugees in the 30s and both disowned that part of their heritage, but also couldn't help but maintain strong nationoethic features. I feel like I should be preparing for my trip with research of some kind, but I don't know what to read. Any suggestions?

I don't feel any of the negative sentiment toward Germany that has carried over in other families, but I also feel strange about returning to a place where my grandparents were kicked out.

Notably, I will also be traveling to Hungary this year, where my other family hails from. Quite the double whammy!

I am still trying to assimilate what it means to visit those places that your grandparents or greatgrandparents departed from under duress or otherwise. Those places are certainly not yours, but there is something about your identity that formed there. I guess there's no way to really know until you get there.

Esau: Good Man, Bad Man

And first, the news. It seems as though Israel and the Palestinians have declared a cease fire. If you hadn't been paying attention for the last few months, there has been a near constant shelling of Sderot (town in Israel) from Gaza and frequent "targetted killings" along with other violent activity by the IDF in Gaza. Yesterday's ceasefire declaration does not include the West Bank, so who knows how useful or effective it will be, but at least it is something. The remarkable thing here is that it seems like no one is talking about it. It could be that ceasefires are not considered "solutions" here and therefore they don't raise eyebrows. Or possible that Israelis are so used to hearing of ceasefires, they don't even pay attention anymore. I'm paying attention and am hopeful.

...

Sundays are the best Jewish learning days for me. I have my classes on Hasidut and Midrash (which are pretty much the only ones I write about here). Yesterday was keeping with that tradition - fantastic.

In Hasidut, we looked at another story that actually took a midrash and turned it on its head. Those rabbis! Always making sure we're paying attention.

The original midrash story was an explanation about the character of Esau. The story is told by R. Shimon Ben Gamliel who claims that Esau is a better man than he because Esau wears his dirty clothing to go to the market, but when serving his father, changes into better, cleaner clothing. [Lots of questions can be asked about this, like why is Shimon Ben Gamliel trying to paint the picture of Esau as a great man? Why is he comparing himself to Esau? What is the significance of the clothing swap? Among others. But leave those for a sec.]
The Hasidic tail recounts the first story and then asks of Shimon Ben Gamliel, "If you knew that putting on fancy clothes to serve your father was a great thing, then why didn't you do it?" The story, told in the name of HaYehudi, goes on to explain that Esau was all about putting on airs. Esau would ask his father questions that sounded very pious and astute, but were nonsence (for example, how does one tithe salt? When you aren't required to tithe salt). And the switching of clothes for his father was also part of that image projection. The real Great Man would have come to his father in his dirty clothing, exposing warts and all, so that he could improve himself.

I had a whole lot of questions about this. First, I don't always think that putting on fine clothes is a bad thing. Another author that we read___________ makes the classic argument that action creates intention. If you busy yourself doing good deeds, then good/proper thinking will follow. So too, maybe with clothing. If you put yourself together, then you may actually feel organized and orderly. When I presented this in class, my teacher said that the story only applied to putting on airs in front of God. This isn't about putting yourself together for work or any other context. I still have to think about that.

Second, the story seems to imply that all relationships are best expressed in conditions of full truthfulness. I'm not so sure. Call me crazy but I'm not totally on board with full truthfulness when dealing with my fellow humans and I don't think I want them to deal with me in full truthfulness either. [This issue came up in today's discussion over a piece of Zohar on yirah fear and ahava love too.] Maybe dealing with the Divine in truth is the story's point, but I think it is worth mentioning in the human to human context too.

Finally, what does this whole conversation mean if you take it back to the source and talk about Esau the way he is portrayed in Genesis. Esau is either evil or stupid or both, but surely duped by his brother and mother. He is portrayed as the bad guy who makes bad choices for a wife and isn't the progenitor of the Jewish people. So why have this complicated discussion about whether he was a good man or not? Is it related? This line of questioning will lead me back to my last rant about midrash and hasidut and my feelings that it cheapens the text to read anything into it. But that's just me.

Four Sibs

"A girl and her homeboys" or "The groom and sibs". Photo by Carol Isaak, mother of the groom. Yes, it was a beautiful wedding!

Upcoming Plans

This will probably be my last post for the next few days. I will be out of town for Yom Temat Yayin (wine tasting) with Dorot tomorrow, celebrating Thanksgiving (see below), and hanging out at Kibbutz Tuval for shabbat.

....

So even though I haven't had strong feelings about Thanksgiving since 1993 when my family moved away from New York, I'm still cohosting a Tgiving dinner here in Israel. Part of the reason is because I feel it important to assert my Americanness (Americaniosity?) while in foreign places. When I was in China over July 4th, I tried to get my hands on some fireworks (they were invented in China, right?) so I went to ask the bearer of all information, a hotel concierge. He thought I was trying to drum up some contraband, so he took me in the back room where they make these kinds of deals. Once I figured out that fireworks were illegal, I got the heck out of there.

But anyway.... I also feel compelled to make use of the excuse to have people over without the restrictions of shabbat. So to all: A Happy Thanksgiving.

PS: There are a few posts that I haven't completed. Remind me to post my ramblings on Geshem, and this morning's Rosh Hodesh (new month) praying with Women of the Wall.

PPS: It is freakin cold here. Is there anyone coming to visit that wants to bring me a down jacket? I'll be your best friend.

Things I Still Haven't Gotten Used To

Along with my list of Things I Love and Things I Can't Stand I thought it appropriate to add a list of Things I Just Haven't Gotten Used To:

• Paying for every call I make from my cell phone. That means calling my voicemail to pick up messages costs me. Oftentimes, people will refuse to activate their vm's so that they will never have to waste a penny picking up a message from anyone.
  
• Hasidim. And their white socks. Makes me smile just to think of them. (So sorry I couldn't find a good online pic for you.)
• Cold water showers. At totally unpredictable times. Like this morning.
  
• The view of the Old City from my mirpeset, porch. (Am I ever supposed to "get used" to this?)
• Rabbinical students everywhere.
• Speaking a foreign language first thing in the morning. It always comes out garbled. Heck, speaking any language first thing in the morning seems to come out garbled.
• Dorot staff calling to check up. This is an amazing thing that still baffles me every time it happens.
  

Personal Statements Are Good For My Health

I have always felt like personal statement essays that push me to articulate why I want to do this or that have been good for me. The act of writing them is clarifying and a positive process. (Is that why I apply for so many different things?)

In my grad school essays at which I am pounding away, I have been thinking about fundamentals and essential points of agreement. A story I have repeated more than I care to remember occurred in a discussion section of a class at Columbia U on Conflict Resolution in the Middle East (tee hee, the title makes me giggle). Anyway, the section was totally unproductive because there were Israelis and Palestinians in the class who wanted nothing more than to ring each others' necks. Every discussion degenerated into an ugly blame game that went in circles. I was frustrated because I didn't line up neatly on one side or the other and I wasn't learning anything.

At one point, the section leader tried a new tactic. He asked the Israelis, "Can you agree that Palestinians feel terror when their homes are bulldozed and their cities are bombed and don't have the empowerment that comes with sovereignty?" Yes, the Israelis admitted.
To the Palestinians he asked, "Can you admit that Israelis experience terror when they get on the bus, or enter a coffee shop and fear that one of the people is a suicide bomber?"
Yes, the Palestinians accepted that premise too.
"So," the leader went on, "the groups agree that everyone in the region experiences terror under the current situation."
"Yes".

It was like magic. All of a sudden the groups were able to get past the blame and finger pointing and move on to more productive discussions of solutions. There was something about finding that kernel of agreement that allowed the students to put aside their polemics in favor of true dialogue.

This all leads to me to why I think the planet and the Earth's resources need to be protected because Earth is humanity's common denominator. Of course, I take a broad reading of the term "resources". It includes human potential as well. But the land, the water, and earthly formations, are something on which all people depend and we can agree that without the essentials that the Earth provides, humanity will be lost. There is no ultimate substitute for the Earth on which we live. The study of this common denominator is the direction in which I am moving and the way in which it can be used as a point of understanding between peoples.

Shabbat Malaise (aka Understanding Secular Judaism)

For the year that I lived in SF, I started preparing for Shabbat by Monday of virtually every week. Where would I go? Who would I invite? Who would invite me? Would I lead something? Learn something? Cook something special? If I didn't have a plan by Wednesday evening, it usually meant that I would host something ... but truthfully it was a rare occurrence. (Yes, I understand how lucky I was.)

But here, I do not know what is wrong with me but I am not excited by shabbat at all. It doesn't occur to me to think about it before Friday morning when I wonder whether I care enough to do anything at all. What happened to all the energy I could muster for a holiday that was, by all objective measures, a pain in the butt? Why can't I get it together to host meals when I have an entire Friday free in which to do it? What has changed?

Part of the problem is a social one and the other is related to the changes in my religious participation and calendar. Many of my closest friends in SF were members of the Jewish community and they were also busy (as I was) with our secular lives and jobs and therefore only made time to see eachother on Shabbat. [This situation is analagous to when I was running regularly with a partner. We tried to arrange it so that we only chatted when we were running, giving us both an incentive to get out to the track.] Also, within the Jewish community context in SF, I met new interesting people all the time. It seemed every week I had the opportunity to come in contact with someone who presented another opinion, took a different path or had big dreams. So Shabbat presented something to me socially that I am not finding here. Here, my closest friends are my cofellows, who I see at least every Thursday for our Dorot Days and some more often. And because the reason that people come to Jerusalem is often to pursue Jewish studies, it is no surprise that that's what most people who I meet are doing here.... and its all they can talk about... and it seems to define their personhood. (Ok, Ok, a bit of Myrhh judgementalism coming into the picture, but it does seem like that sometimes.) So I don't feel like I'm in contact with the same sort of diversity that I was back in SF.

And then my religious participation and calendar are all different too. I'm davenning (praying) during the week, and so on Shabbat I don't look forward to more of the same, even though I recognize that the service is categorically different in text and texture. I'm doing active or passive learning about Jewish topics All. The. Time. and therefore Shabbat doesn't present a unique opportunity to do that either.

There might also be something to the fact that everyone's doing it and I have a bit of contrarianism in my nature. Even if there are plenty of secular folks in Jerusalem, as there are, the stores are by and large shut, public transit doesn't run, and cultural activities are mostly waiting for sundown to open their doors. Even if you aren't actually keeping shabbat, it is hard to violate it outside of your home. So, it is possible that there is this unconscious energy within me that tries to buck the system regardless if I approve or disapprove of said system.

Look, when I'm in a setting to observe Shabbat, I love it. Last night I went to dinner at another fellow's home and it was lovely. Crunchy vegan food with irreverent conversation, singing, and a nice community feeling. But I was invited on Friday at 1pm and had I not received an invitation I wouldn't have many ANY plans for shabbat whatsoever.

All this talk could be related to the very powerful experience I had visiting my community back in SF two weeks ago. I think people latch on to Israel because they never found a Jewish home in the US. But that's not me. It's possible that I'm reluctant to truly get involved too deeply in any one community here because I have a Jewish home. (Now, if I only knew the magic words to get into that school which would allow me to relocate there when I'm done here. Suggestions?)

I'm also take advice on how to reinvigorate my Shabbatot. Of course, I know some recipes. I could host more, attend some new synagogues, get out of Jerusalem more. I just need to dedicate myself to this task.

Yom Film

Yesterday was another exciting Dorot Day where we learned and viewed some interesting Israeli film. We started the morning by meeting Tomer Heymann, an up and coming Israeli filmmaker who watched this film with us and discussed some of its methods and challenges. The film chronicles his experience working with high school age boys who were going nowhere fast and their work to put together a play. A number of scenes of the documentary were cinematically inspiring and I felt very connected to the characters by the end. I wanted to see them succeed, and was invested in their progress. A really satisfying movie.

Then we scattered throughout Tel Aviv in groups and we made our own films, and I can honestly say that my group's was BAD. I have a lot to learn about film if I ever choose to take it up as a hobby.

And finally we went to a regular screening of Mr. Heymann's newest film, Bubbot Niyar. This documentary delves into the lives of the "Paper Dolls," a group of Phillipino transvestite performers who work as caregivers in Israel. While the subject matter was inherently interesting and visually stimulating, somehow I wasn't drawn in with the same intensity. A few possible reasons. First, the Paper Dolls were speaking with Heymann on the film in either Hebrew or English in which they were all very proficient. But despite that proficiency, it still wasn't their native tongue and it might have been a barrier to really feeling like you understood their emotional state. Second, the film was much more "professional" where his first movie was more rough. I don't know whether I simply prefer the rougher texture, or whether it lends itself to a more close connection with the characters. Third, I wonder if the subject matter was a barrier. In the first film, you want to see the kids succeed, you hope that they lay off the drugs and graduate from high school and get accepted to the army. You see a future for them and you can anticipate a happy ending. Somehow this isn't so for the Phillipino transvestites. You know that they will never be comfortably accepted in Israel, you know that a return to the Phillipines is no solution. There is no goal for them that the audience can hope for. I think that futility stands in the way of making a film. I don't know how to overcome it, but I don't think Heymann totally succeeded in his attempt.

Anyway, they are both worth a viewing if you stumble across them (or if Netflix carries them).

Scalia of the Court

I haven't talked in depth about midrash since this post where I discussed the conflation of time. In general, I thought that was a good thing, or at least I understood why a people would construct myth to accomplish this task. But today I was faced with a midrash of another sort.

I apologize at the outset of this post that there are going to be a bunch of terms that are very hard to define and Hebrew grammar is also an issue. Plus, I have paraphrased my own translations below for readability. Please forgive me on this one.

In our hasidut class, we are learning about a particular group of rebbes and their disciples from Preshyska (sp?). My teacher, R. Mickey presented a story that was supposedly representative of Preshyska thinking. But it wasn't just an isolated independent story like others we have read in his class, it was presented as commentary on this week's Torah portion. Here's where it came from.

This week, we read about how Abraham tasks Eliezer, his servant, with finding a wife for Isaac, his son. (Genesis, 24:5) Eliezer asks Abraham during their conversation, "But what if she doesn't want to come with me?" (A reasonable enough question.) Later on, after Eliezer finds Rebecca who is clearly destined to be Isaac's wife, he recounts the story to Betuel saying, "But what if she doesn't want to come with me?" The question of the text comes with the bolded word, "but," which is spelled differently in the two recountings of the story. The first "but" has a middle vav making its meaning totally clear. The second "but" does not have the middle vav, so that instead of "Uhlay" it could be "Aylee" meaning "to me".

The greatest commentator, Rashi, says about the first line, "Eliezer had a daughter and he was looking for an excuse not to find someone else for Isaac."

The Kotzker Rebbe (a Preshyska Hasidic Rebbe) goes on to try and explain the discrepancy between the spellings above using Rashi's interpretation. He says, the first time that Eliezer speaks, he is a bit self delusional. Indeed, he has a daughter, and he isn't being honest with himself that he wants to find an excuse not find someone else for Isaac. By the time he is repeating the second telling of the story, he has had the experience of seeing Rebecca and realizing how perfect she is for Isaac and therefore that event helped him recognize that he was approaching the whole task with ulterior motives (or without a pure heart).

The Kotzker uses the Torah text to take the reader/student on a psychological journey inward to think about pure motives and intention. I think all this is fine and good and tells us a lot about the kinds of topics in which the Kotzker was interested. What gets my goat is this: where does Rashi get the idea that Eliezer had a daughter in the first place? It is far fetched, but not totally out of the question, but how can the Kotzker read this entire psychological understanding into two words that are the same but are spelled ever so slightly. The fact is that this is NOT IN THE TEXT.

In class we started duking this thing out, my teacher saying that he didn't care whether it was or wasn't in the original text. But here's the thing, if ANYTHING can be read into the original, then doesn't it cheapen the torah text just a bit? Anyone can say whatever they want and claim that it has its basis in the holiest document in the world. At that point, does it really mean anything?

And I'm no strict original intent kind of gal. Certainly I'm not the Scalia of the court. But are there limits? Can the Kotzker say whatever he wants because of who he was? Does acceptance of an interpretation over time give legitamacy to any story?

I see both the good and the bad associated with a fluid interpretation.

Where Are You From?

The number labeled "home" on my cell phone points to my parents' house, an address that I haven't called home since 1998. I moved to Jtown from SF, where I certainly felt at home, but what about my longer stints in Claremont, Portland or even NY? I'm still registered to vote in Oregon (something I accomplished this time around with many obstacles) and it is the state on the top of my driver's license, but sometimes it is just easier to tell people I'm from California. Most people at least have a general clue where that is on the map.

But when I rolled into Jtown on the group taxi (called Nesher), something felt good, solid, like home. At least for now.

....

An uneventful flight except for a brief altercation with the rightwing Christians that I was sitting next to. I still don't know how the conversation turned bad, but the woman mentioned something about "obeying one's husband." I told her that I had no intention of "obeying" anyone but God and a husband and wife should be a team that work together with respect and mutual love. Then she asked me if I was married. When I said, "no," she said, "Well, now you know why."

I was STUNNED.

I retorted that I could have my pick, thank you very much. But then I was stuck sitting next to her. I wanted to "by accident" fall asleep on her shoulder and drool a bit, but it didn't happen. Oh well.

Rehearsing, For What?

Tonight was the rehearsal dinner where friends and family toasted and roasted the soon-to-be bride and groom. My brothers and I played, "Who Wants to Marry a Hundred-aire" and were able to slyly tell some of the most embarrassing stories from A's past. The strange thing about it was that we were invoking this person that we had known growing up, but somehow doesn't really resemble the sophisticated, mature and sensitive man who thanked everyone for coming and soothed his bride with the line, "We can't predict the future, so we might as well surround ourselves with good people."

Shabbat went alriight. Torah reading was smooth (maybe because I wasn't terribly nervous about screwing up) and I achieved the desired Girlf-From-Jerusalem look.

Tomorrow is the wedding... but I think one of the mantras that should be repeated often is, "It's about the marriage, not the wedding." I hope I can keep that in mind when (someday) I take the leap.

This Is It! The Firstborn Gets Married

On Sunday my big brother is going to walk down the aisle and get married to a woman who I love and would choose as a friend. She brings out the best in him, making them both people I want to hang out with and am proud to call family. Everyone is still a little stressed, but it is the stress of wanting everything to be perfect for the bride and groom.

I am totally consumed with joy for them and for us. We are all going to be beneficiaries of this marriage.

In preparation we girls (the bride, maid of honor, and me) went to the spa where we shined and polished our skin, got relaxing massages, lounged in hot tubs, saunas and steam rooms, and drank cucumber-flavored water. Luxurious does not begin to describe it. However.... as many of you know I have become totally obsessed with water, its scarcity and its improper/inefficient use. It isn't something you can just put out of your mind when you are taking three showers and alternating between the cool pool and the boiling hot tub. I'm not gonna lie, I loved the spa, but I still thought about the excessiveness about it.

News update: 3000 police officers guarded 2000 marchers at the J-town Gay Pride Parade. I missed it, but I'm happy it happened.

In the Midst of the Whirlwind

This morning (Wed) is the first time since Thurs morning at 7am where I have the chance to sit with a computer for a few minutes by myself and reflect on the past few days. I was going to post a whole roundup of where I've beeen, but I'm sure it would bore my readers (of whom I now know there are at least 5 or 6 lurkers), so forget it.

A few highlights:
- Dorot Day on gender and sexuality
- Mitzvah time on the plane helping an old woman who didn't speak any English make the connection in Atlanta
- Surprising the MM. A few shrieks were heard.
- Girls shabbat dinner at JN's. Lovely.
- Shabbat AM minyan. Nothing like it anywhere.
- Coffee and chatting with friends.
- Dancing my tuchas off at Bruno's.
- Lots of one-on-one time with friends. Didn't get to see everyone, but I sure tried.
- Interviews and informational meetings at SFSU and Berkeley (aka the Holy Grail).
- Meetings with all recommenders in C-mont

I am overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for all the people in my life that make it wonderful and meaningful. I am surrounded by fantastic, sophisticated, caring, smart friends. I am truly lucky.

The best relationships that I have had usually entail when one partner is so generous (we're talking emotionally, time-wise, not necessarily financially) that the other person always feel compelled to catch up with the generosity factor. The cycle is self-perpetuating. I now believe that this can also apply to communities, where you feel like you get so much satisfaction out of what the community provides that you want to give back which enables the community to give more. That is how I feel about the MM.

Back to the Promised Land

The last 72 hours have been a dream... here in San Francisco. I'll catch up with the blogging world when I make it to LA tomorrow.