The attitude in Israel is truly a unique blend of self-righteousness and unsolicited familial familiarity. Just one quick example, my dad came from Miami only a short two weeks after the zman started to spend time with my grandfather who was in the hospital. So naturally I spent time with him and went to go visit him in the hospital. Anyway that first night my dad is driving from my yeshivah to the hospital (Haddassah Ein Kerem, it's in a valley right past Bayit Vegan) and we stop at a bus stop to ask someone for directions. It went kind of like this, only in hebrew:
Us: "How do I get to Haddassah Ein Kerem?"
Woman at the bus stop: *Gets an extremely offended look on her face* "You're completely heading in the wrong direction! This road is to Shaare Zedek"
Us: Ok, so nu.. How do I get there?
Woman: *Throws us another dirty look as if she personally is being affected by our delay in getting to the hospital* Turn around to the road you just came from - Why did you turn off that road anyway!? - and continue straight continuously.
So we thanked her and continued going. I was cracking up because I love the way they get so involved in your life here. Like the time my taxi driver was yelling at me for running late to my bus while we were stuck in traffic. That for some reason I agreed to have the moneh running as opposed to a flat rate (the only time I have ever done that) and he was making money off my irresponsibility was irrelevant.
On the other hand later that night, as I waited for a bus that was never going to come. Some Israeli yeshivah guys asked me, who was dressed very chiloni at the time, (a previous summer spent in israel, before flipping out) if I'd like to join them in their already squashed car to Bnei Brak where someone's brother would give us a ride home to my grandmothers town between Bnei Brak and yerushalayim. Looking back it doesn't sound like such a great chessed, but I would have been stuck in Jerusalem over night and they didn't have to ask me at all.
Also a few weeks ago I was waiting at a bus stop on a major thruway in Jerusalem and looked up as I heard the siren of a Magen David Adom ambulance approach. As it sped by I noticed one of the EMT's in the front seat saying Tehillim and that just kind struck me. That Israel really is a place of yidden who all have that familial bond. Like all the busses that have been wishing me Shana Tova and Chag Sameach for a month already. It's just a place that I really feel at home.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The City
Did not make it to the Kotel last night. My laundry didn't not come out dry and I had to hang it up outside and wait until this morning. I'm going to slowly make my way to the Old City now, taking the long route through Shmuel Hanavi, Geulah, Meah Shearim, Town, and Mamilla. Maybe I'll pick up some lunch. I'm tired of being pareve for three weeks already (pita and chummus nonstop).
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Laundry and Prayer
After spending the day again indoors, with fever, I have a plan to go to the Kotel tonight. I haven't been going as often as I like and there are somethings that I would like to present before my Creator and discuss with Him. As I told the Rosh Yeshivah, praying is the only free, definite therapy. I'm just waiting for my laundry to come out of the dryer so I can get dressed and leave. And I pray it'll all come out dry.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Israel
Well, I finally made it to Israel. As a yeshivah guy, not a tourist. (I've been here many times before, thank god.) For many years I spoke of the time when I wouldn't be living at home anymore and I'd be away in Israel in yeshivah doing all the thing that yeshivah guys do. Except it's bein hazmanim and I'm stuck in my room with a reidiculously high fever. I'm going to try to keep this blog as a way to record random things from this year.
It's right after sukkos and Chag away from the family wasn't as bad as I thought it would be all though I did miss this food at home and all the preperations for yomtov. Since, I spent the first day(s) with my grandmother I followed the Lubavitch and Sefardi psak of keeping only one day, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered and kept two days cause I love yomtov.
In the bein hazmanim days before Chag started I went to the kosher beach in Ashdod. Coming from Miami I was a little apprehensive about this "Chareidi beach". Would it be like the frummy faux candy? Which was always a terrible substitute for the real non-jewish brands. Think Liebers chips. Anyway, I got there and was promptly waylaid by other guys for a Mincha minyan. I beseeched hashem that if I was doing my part of keeping my neshama safe from bad dirty images, if HE would protect my body from bad dirty sand. My prayers were heard and I found myself on one of the nicest beaches I've ever been to. The sand was mamish tempur-pedic. It was clean and empty, save for other yeshivah guys which led to my first round of jewish geography amid the tumultous surf. All in all it was enjoyable, barring the 5"4, 250 lbs. sixty-five year old man who though that like in the mikveh he could change six inches away from me.
My beach excursion was on Wednesday. Thursday, I walked around Geulah and Meah Shearim and watched the erev yomtov craziness. It was crazy. I saw this chossid in Meah shearim shlepping his s'chach along behind him, looking very much like a penguin who jacked a peacock's plumage. I took a picture. Later that day, closer to home on Shmuel Hanavi, I reneged on my plans to go to Chizkiyahu's water tunnels. I was sitting at a felafel shop with some friends and saw the huge pile of palm leaves and remembered I'd been pushing off getting s'chach for my rebbi (which is a apparently a very common thing for guys to do) for a few days already. So I canceled my plans (it was getting dark anyway) and called up my rebbi and asked how many pieces he needed. So after I informed the palm tree seller that I come from Miami and know my palm fronds and I can handpick them myselves, because only I can pick something worthy of the rosh yeshivah. I walked through the streets of Sanhedria and Ramat Eshkol shlepping s'chach peacock style and taking shortcuts through alleys, parking lots, and apartment buildings. It was then that I really felt yomtov was coming.
Later that Thursday night I went back to Geulah and enjoyed the teeming sidewalks and found myself in this great place selling shabbos food. No, it was not the downstairs place that causes stomachaches. I've been there and it wasn't abd but this place was much ebtter. It's upstairs and clean and spacious. I get up there and it was empty right then so I got wonderful service and a plate full of crazy good sauteed liver. I splurged and bought myself an eight shekel small bottle of jump and had the best meal I've ever had in a restaurant to date. I walked out so satisfied and content it was such a good feeling.
First day I was with my Savta and slept mostly. Food and company was very enjoyable. I prayed in a Yeminite shul and it was interesting. They chant everything straight through.
Chol Hamoed was a hazy blur of hookah, wine, fresh pita and chumus, only leaving the sukkah to replenish the pita and hummus. Except for when I went shopping for our Simchas Beis Hashoevah and rang up a ridiculous bill. But in all honesty they did tell me to make it nice and it was. I felt like I was buying for a shalom zachor or a kiddush. It went off well. One side note, our S"BH was thursday night and I still hadn't secured any meals for Shabbos neither night nor day. So as I was sitting there talking with two of my rebbeim, hocking about something I asked one for a meal on shabbos. He told me he'd love to except that he has a sister in law who's over for chag and she's my age. The more senior rabbi sitting there turns to him and goes "So?" The conversation stopped there for some reason I don't remember and I didn't get the meal in the end but what did he think I was going to do already? This is a subject for a whole nother post including why the women couldnt walk into shul if I was standing on the sidewalk. But My shabbos meal ended up having a girl my age there and oddly both of us kept our clothes on the entire time, nor played footsie under the table, or made plans to meet up later. and she was a beautiful maidel.
Since I was only keeping one day my Simchas torah was on Shabbos and I had to do it with all of the young married twenty something americans of Ramat eshkol and it was actually very geshmak. only about twenty guys there and it was very leibidik, really was. best simchas torah i ever had and with only one shot of chivas. besides now I know all of them so I can get meals over by them on shabbosim.
It's right after sukkos and Chag away from the family wasn't as bad as I thought it would be all though I did miss this food at home and all the preperations for yomtov. Since, I spent the first day(s) with my grandmother I followed the Lubavitch and Sefardi psak of keeping only one day, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered and kept two days cause I love yomtov.
In the bein hazmanim days before Chag started I went to the kosher beach in Ashdod. Coming from Miami I was a little apprehensive about this "Chareidi beach". Would it be like the frummy faux candy? Which was always a terrible substitute for the real non-jewish brands. Think Liebers chips. Anyway, I got there and was promptly waylaid by other guys for a Mincha minyan. I beseeched hashem that if I was doing my part of keeping my neshama safe from bad dirty images, if HE would protect my body from bad dirty sand. My prayers were heard and I found myself on one of the nicest beaches I've ever been to. The sand was mamish tempur-pedic. It was clean and empty, save for other yeshivah guys which led to my first round of jewish geography amid the tumultous surf. All in all it was enjoyable, barring the 5"4, 250 lbs. sixty-five year old man who though that like in the mikveh he could change six inches away from me.
My beach excursion was on Wednesday. Thursday, I walked around Geulah and Meah Shearim and watched the erev yomtov craziness. It was crazy. I saw this chossid in Meah shearim shlepping his s'chach along behind him, looking very much like a penguin who jacked a peacock's plumage. I took a picture. Later that day, closer to home on Shmuel Hanavi, I reneged on my plans to go to Chizkiyahu's water tunnels. I was sitting at a felafel shop with some friends and saw the huge pile of palm leaves and remembered I'd been pushing off getting s'chach for my rebbi (which is a apparently a very common thing for guys to do) for a few days already. So I canceled my plans (it was getting dark anyway) and called up my rebbi and asked how many pieces he needed. So after I informed the palm tree seller that I come from Miami and know my palm fronds and I can handpick them myselves, because only I can pick something worthy of the rosh yeshivah. I walked through the streets of Sanhedria and Ramat Eshkol shlepping s'chach peacock style and taking shortcuts through alleys, parking lots, and apartment buildings. It was then that I really felt yomtov was coming.
Later that Thursday night I went back to Geulah and enjoyed the teeming sidewalks and found myself in this great place selling shabbos food. No, it was not the downstairs place that causes stomachaches. I've been there and it wasn't abd but this place was much ebtter. It's upstairs and clean and spacious. I get up there and it was empty right then so I got wonderful service and a plate full of crazy good sauteed liver. I splurged and bought myself an eight shekel small bottle of jump and had the best meal I've ever had in a restaurant to date. I walked out so satisfied and content it was such a good feeling.
First day I was with my Savta and slept mostly. Food and company was very enjoyable. I prayed in a Yeminite shul and it was interesting. They chant everything straight through.
Chol Hamoed was a hazy blur of hookah, wine, fresh pita and chumus, only leaving the sukkah to replenish the pita and hummus. Except for when I went shopping for our Simchas Beis Hashoevah and rang up a ridiculous bill. But in all honesty they did tell me to make it nice and it was. I felt like I was buying for a shalom zachor or a kiddush. It went off well. One side note, our S"BH was thursday night and I still hadn't secured any meals for Shabbos neither night nor day. So as I was sitting there talking with two of my rebbeim, hocking about something I asked one for a meal on shabbos. He told me he'd love to except that he has a sister in law who's over for chag and she's my age. The more senior rabbi sitting there turns to him and goes "So?" The conversation stopped there for some reason I don't remember and I didn't get the meal in the end but what did he think I was going to do already? This is a subject for a whole nother post including why the women couldnt walk into shul if I was standing on the sidewalk. But My shabbos meal ended up having a girl my age there and oddly both of us kept our clothes on the entire time, nor played footsie under the table, or made plans to meet up later. and she was a beautiful maidel.
Since I was only keeping one day my Simchas torah was on Shabbos and I had to do it with all of the young married twenty something americans of Ramat eshkol and it was actually very geshmak. only about twenty guys there and it was very leibidik, really was. best simchas torah i ever had and with only one shot of chivas. besides now I know all of them so I can get meals over by them on shabbosim.
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