Packages:
Yesterday after dinner, a few friends, a bunch of volunteers, and myself made care packages for "lone soldiers". These are recent Olim (immigrants) who've come to Israel, joined the army, and have no family to go home to on leave, or to receive presents from on Jewish holidays. This may seem like a superficial volunteer project considering all the issues in Israel, but in reality, "lone soldiers" make up a huge percentage of the Israeli army and after talking to several about how much a simple package can mean to them and how simple gestures are often what get them through hard times, I realized that these silly packages were actually life savers. Each box contained a fresh shirt, soap, snacks, neck/face warmers, an army knife, and other practical, but nifty items. Odd presents to many, but according to my friends in Marva, these were boxes that would have made them weep for joy! Making these packages was also a personal eye-opener considering my feelings regarding the IDF and the army in general. Despite my negative experiences, it was wonderful to know that I could know I could never support Israel from behind a gun, but that I could care deeply about the people who were willing to do so. Yay for changing opinions!
A trip to Mea She'Arim (may-ah-sheh-ah-reem):
Last Thursday, five friends and I went on an interesting journey. My friend Lizzy received a call inviting her and several friends over for dinner at the house of a Year Course supporter. Being interested and good little participants, we moseyed on down to his house for some nosh and the expected talk of how wonderful Young Judaea is and how grateful we are for this incredible opportunity. Completely unexpected! The house we were invited to turned out to be in Mea She'Arim and owned by an Ultra-Orthodox family. For those who don't know, Mea She'Arim is an extremely Orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem. It was originally founded for the Ultra-Orthodox, and it's name means 100 gates, in honor of the desire for a walled city. Needless to say, the surroundings certainly dictated the evening to come. We spent a large part of the night talking to Rabbi Gershon and his family. Truly a Year Course supporter, he believes that students on Year Course should be exposed to all kinds of Judaism, including Chasidism (a view point I actually agree whole heartedly upon). In tandem with his words, Rabbi Gershon offered us numerous opportunities within the Orthodox community, including host families, wedding invitations, and sit-ins in seminaries and yishivas. However, along with these opportunities, we were also overwhelmed with the semi-anticipated talks of what the "correct" version of Judaism is. Let's be clear, while some on Year Course are more religious than others, we are a truly Pluralistic group, ranging from fully observant to never stepped into a shul, and as such, we are reluctant to deal with those who insist they know the "truth". Because of this, the night turned out to be a bit of an uncomfortable mess, and we left with incredibly mixed feelings. This is not the point of the story, though... The point is that the experience highlighted a couple of really important things: one, the war waging between different sects of Judaism in Israel, and two, the open-mindedness I've come to take for granted from attending a Reform Synagogue, having gay parents, and attending largely liberal schools.
The former is one of the reasons I'm having so many issues with Israel. It's hard to feel at home in the "Jewish State" when its citizens are screaming at each other over what "Jewish" means. What does "Jewish" mean? What is Judaism? Obviously, because it is a culture and a religion (and therefore made of opinions), I don't have a definitive answer. However, I will say that today, at least, Judaism is largely cultural. How does the average person define a Christian? Belief in God and Jesus. How does the average person define a Jew? Eats Challah, eats matzah, lights candles, funny hats, speaks hebrew, and is very bookish. Notice the plethora of cultural items and the extreme lack of religious ones in the latter definition. This is not to say that Jews aren't religious, but merely to point out that you can be a Jew without embracing its religious aspects. My mom grew up as a "cultural Jew", and until we joined a temple when I was eight, I was raised the same way. Now, I describe myself as Jewish not because of my belief in God, but because of my belief in Jewish values (tikun olam (repairing the world), living for now, basic commandments (no murder, etc), and others), celebrating the holidays, and embracing my temple community. I do happen to believe in God, but I don't think that's the main defining point of my Judaism, and unfortunately, that's what puts me on one side of the jew v jew argument.
The latter issue explains why I'm on the side that I'm on, and is one of those realizations that wouldn't be interesting if it hadn't been sitting in front of me my entire life. I've grown up without a trace of extreme conservatism in my life. From my parents to my friends to my school to my hometown, things have always been liberal and open. From that perspective, I suppose it was naive of me to be so shocked at being confronted with a highly religious view of life, but shock me it did, and now I feel incredibly small and slightly stupid. It's as Sondheim says, "someone is on your side, someone else is not, while we're seeing our side, maybe we forgot, they are not alone, for no one is alone". For the most part, when people listen to this song, they ignore what it's saying, and only hear the part about themselves - that they themselves are not alone. Since being in Israel, though, I'm slowly grasping the second part - that others are not alone either, even those with whom we strongly disagree or dislike. This applies personally (like when I'm frustrated with my peers) and globally (like when I realized it's foolish to be angry at an opinion when it's not isolated to a single person, or even a small group of people). At the end of the day, problems are best solved when both sides accept that the other exists and is valid. That's my new goal regarding Orthodoxy. I don't understand it or agree with it, but I'm going to try to accept it and embrace the fact that its believers are not all the same - just as not all Jews are the same.
Volunteering:
I LOVE YAD LAKASHISH SO MUCH!!!!!! It's the weirdest thing since I was so set on working with kids, but I'm finding that I really love cute little old people as well! Hehe. It's so amazing to work with people who are determined to get out and do something with their lives. Hearing their stories is inspiring, and seeing their pride in their work, no matter how seemingly simple, is truly touching. My friend Alberto's only job is to paint beads. That's what he does for four hours everyday, and yet, when he's done with his daily set, he always comes over and asks "tov? tov?" ("good? good?"). I'm always so happy to tell him "ken tov! yafe!" ("yes good! beautiful!"). His smile is always so contagious. =D For my Zionism and the Arts midterm, I had to take a photo that represented what Jerusalem meant to me. I ended up selecting a picture of one of the supervisors working in my workshop with several Yad Lakashish members. For me, despite its Americanization, Jerusalem is still powerful within places like my work. Jerusalem (and Yad Lakashish) is a place where people of all backgrounds and beliefs come because they feel they can belong. Similarly, people from all sorts of countries and backgrounds come to Yad Lakashish because they want a place where they can belong and feel important. Jerusalem does that for most, if not all, of the people who visit her. Even when I'm walking around the Old City appalled at how disrespectful tourists can be, if I look out at the view of the entire city, I'm instantly reminded of where I am, and how many people throughout history would have killed (and actually did kill) to be where I am at this very moment. The thought is humbling, and it makes me forget everything that can be frustrating about this program, and remember why I wanted to be here in the first place: to live in my homeland.
Today (20/12/10):
Just so you know, the dates are backwards here, and I've gotten used to it, so for you back home, today is actually 12/20/10. =D
Today was standard. I went to volunteering, skyped with Mische and kept her up until 4am, snuggled into my comforter, and am content to relax for a couple of hours. This morning, my friend Danielle and I decided to put together a benefit concert to raise money for Haiti. I'm very excited! I miss putting big events together and it'll be a great creative outlet as well since I've been dying for an opportunity to perform. On a similar note, tonight my friend Aaron and I are going to do a cold read for a local play. We probably won't be able to do the performances due to program scheduling, but we both missed our audition seasons back home and are pumped to make up for lost time! Days like this are exhausting, but wonderful, especially on the delirium of only three hours of sleep. I think too much at night, I really need to stop that...
Charts on a scale of 1-10 (ten being high):
Homesickness status: 4 (yay! going down!)
Israel love: 5 (it was three a few days ago, so this is pretty good...)
Excitement for Bat Yam/Kuma: 10!
Present purchasing: um....... SUGGESTIONS!
Holy crap, longest post EVER!
Endless love to all back home,
Rachel
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