Saturday, June 03, 2006

Shavuot without blintzes and (real) cheesecake is like a "q" without "u"

It's been a few days (a few busy days, plus my internet was down when I planned on blogging). Let me catch you up on things that have happened since that magical night at the cinema. Did I mention that I had to walk about a kilometer (I mean 0.62 miles) to the bus stop after the movie because the security guard pointed me in the wrong direction?

You look familiar, did I see you at Sinai? (My new favorite Judaica-related pick-up line)

It was my second shavuos in Jerusalem (I was there two years ago on my high school senior class trip). Since that magical morning, I have raved about how there is nothing like walking to the kotel on Shavuot. I got to relive that thrill on Friday morning, when I walked with thousands of my brethren to those hallowed grounds in the Old CIty.

Before I describe that scene, let me give you a rundown of my Shavuot night. After a sudden shift in plans, I was without a festive meal, place to study, cheesecake, or blintzes. What did I have?

[Homer in the Navy reference, please skip down if you don't remember that episode. (Homer: Enough of what's out. What's in? Moe: Iced-mocha lattes and David Shwimmer)]

Leon Uris (I started reading Exodus), pita, hummus, mish-mesh (according to my friends. I have been pronouncing it wrong all along), pomegranate nectar, and a few carrots.

I decided that I would keep things local. I went to the shul under the street (I learned that it is actually a bomb shelter) to see when shiurim (lessons) began. The sign said that shiurim in English would be held at the Mayanot Yeshiva down the street, starting at 11:30. One of the traditions associated with Shavuot is to spend the entire night studying Torah, praying Shaharit at sunrise, and sleeping through minha (afternoon service). It is supposed to commemorate the day that the Israelites received the Torah at Mt. Sinai (One is supposed to feel as if they were at Sinai receiving the Torah with the rest of the Jewish people)

There were four one-hour talks given but let me highlight the two that stood out in my mind.

Rabbi Shlome Gestetner posed the question of whether there is room for indivual expression while living a life of Torah? He said that each person is given their individual talents and should apply Torah through these talents (like a musician, maybe?).

Rabbi Daniel Wise spoke about relationships in the Book of Ruth. He brought in literary terms to describe the various characters and used the Book of Ruth as a literature for the starting point of his lecture.

The lessons finished at 4:30, and I headed to the Kotel on a slightly empty stomach (I ate a small section of cheesecake that one would buy from the store, which I don't believe fulfills the tradition of eating cheesecake).

As we walked through the city centre (you might recognize this word "center"), some people were still at the bars from a long night of partying but the mass of people was flocking to the Old City. Jews from every denomination, every nationality (I didn't check, but I assume that most were covered), and every background walked as one group in a semi-quiet procession for a sunrise pilgrimage to the Western Wall.

We entered the Old City through Jaffa Gate and marched through the narrow alleys of the Bazaar that runs along the edges of the Armenian, Muslim, and Christian Quarters to The Wall. The sun was just beginning to rise over the walls of the Muslim Quarter as we entered The Kotel plaza, rather we inched into the plaza.

While I have always claimed that walking to the Kotel on Shavuot is one of the most inspirational and greatest experiences on my life, actually being at the kotel on Shavuot isn't that great. With everybody pushing and shoving trying to get closer, it is very uncomfortable and claustrophobic. I remember from the first time at The Kotel on Shavuot getting run over by a table. I decided to stay in the back this time and marvel at the crowd. It was interesting to see the entire women's side wearing primarily black clothing while the men's side of the mechitza was all white becuase they were all wearing tallitot.

I ran into some friends who were headed to the southern part of the Western Wall in the Davidson Center where they held an egalitarian service. There was room to breath and spread out. There was even enough room to lay down if you fell asleep. If I didn't run into these friends, I would have headed back home without davening shaharit.

The service ended at about 7:45 and was in bed at 8:18. Aside from some tampering with the fan that my landlord gave me before the chag, I woke up at 3:18. One of my friends claims to have slept from 6:30 until 7:30 (that would be thirteen hours, not just one) and woke up just in time for Kabbalat Shabbat.

I, on the other hand, headed to the park for an afternoon of recreation.

Gan Soccer (Notice the play on transliteration)

I decided to play some real futbol for the first time in Israel. In addition to not liking soccer (aside from what I like to call the "soccer elite") Americans (me in particular) are not very good at soccer. I do enjoy watchhing soccer when national teams are playing because I like the passion of the fans and players (excitement level for the World Cup: 8.4).

If you weren't on the JAMD Class of 2004 senior trip, you won't understand this paragraph, please start reading at the next paragraph. I mean, I can beat a bunch of first and second graders at Kibbutz Ketura. "I got this guy." He was a five-year old. I stole the ball from him and when I was done, he was on the ground. Some call it an agressive and possibly dirty play, but I call it competing the only way I know. You might remember that the game hadn't started yet. Actually, by the time we started the game, it was past the kid's bedtime.

I guess that the rest of world realizes American ineptitude with futbol because when they chose teams, I was the last person picked. You might want to know that there was a ten-year kid about a foot shorter than me, who weighs about the same as me, and wore a Dr. Scholls t-shirt that read "happy feet" that got picked before me. He only spoke Spanish and cherry-picked the entire game.

They put me in goal. I guess they thought that would be the position where I would create the fewest problems (Scores of games that I played goalie: 5-1, 5-1, 5-3). Wow Ian, your a brick wall! Oh sorry, that should read: 1-5, 1-5, 3-5. Let me just say that I did score a goal.

There was also a language barrier. The Israelis thought that I spoke Hebrew. My telling them that I also spoke English didn't help because there only spoke Spanish aside from Hebrew.

What does a barber in a religious neighborhood do during the omer? (religious enough that they don't cut their hair during the omer but not so religious enough that they would never cut their hair)

As some you might know, it is customary for Jews not to cut their hair between Pesach and Shavuot, except for Lag B'Omer. That is a 49-day stretch. How do these barbers get by? (I am working on the assumption that the vast majority of their business comes from religious clientele)

On Lag B'Omer, do the barbers even get to enjoy the bonfires or are they cutting hair for 24 hours straight? I can imagine them being open all night long for people to stop in during or after the bonfires.

Do they go on vacation? Do they spend the time studying in Yeshiva?

On the subject of barbers in Israel, I found the barber the I will go to if I get my hair cut in Israel. Actually, i have established two places as the site of my haircut in Israel, if it happens. The first on the list is located at the entrance of Mahene Yehuda. I found the second one in my wandering around the Old City on Shabbat. There is a guy similar to the one in Mahene Yehuda, but in the Arab Shuk. Both would be priceless experiences and possibly some of the best covered events on this blog. I would interview the barber and witnesses and take before, after, and during photos. Who know what else I would do to cover this event? We might even bring in a guest columnist.

Oh, on the subject of my wandering through the Old City on Shabbat I came across this classic sign.


Do they montior the tourist's actions, the locals' interactions with the tourists, or tourists that are acting too much like locals and don't know their role?

Situation: American tourist buys a kippah for 30 shekels that should only have been 10 shekelsl, and the vendor knows it. Enter the tourist police. Who do they apprehend? What's the punishment?

Situation: American tourist bargains vendor down from 30 to 10 in an Israeli-Hebrew accent? Do they get apprehended the vendor for buying into the American's scheme or the American for not acting like a tourist?

I will be in Ein Gedi/Dead Sea region tomorow. When I return, I will provide a full recap of my experiences. My first real tiyyul. The excitement is building.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

loved the "gan soccer" heading

( no pun intended, but rather cute, if I must say so myself.)

Ian said...

According to the dictionary on my computer, which I would never use as a scrabble reference, but is useful for a quick message, the following words begin with a "q" that is not followed by a "u":
qanat, qawwal, qawwali, qi, qibla, qigong, qindarka, qinghaosu, qintar, qwerty
My point is that they do exist, but they are just not the same.