Ashdod

Let me paint for you a picture of a city that is now under attack from the Hamas, a terrorist organization, government in Gaza:

I step off the bus with my backpack on, ready for the weekly travel of Shabbos. We are encouraged at school to get out of Jerusalem and travel the country; the best time for this is over Shabbos, when your whole day is based on walking from place to place. A successful Shabbos is a peaceful one.

My eyes squint from the bright sun in Ashdod. I haven't seen this pleasant of weather since before Sukkot (the Autumn holiday that marks the beginning of the rainy season in Israel). But the warm sun on my body, and the cool breeze blowing past, make this walk from the bus station more than my typical winter stroll.

I pass park after park with children playing as parents sit idly. The corners are all sprinkled with small businesses, each with a small chunk of the storefront. One of the storefronts has a familiar symbol: the Rambam-diagonal chanukiah in the window. It says one message: there is a Chabad house here--all Jews welcome.

The family I stayed with were the second generation of emissary to come to Ashdod. The wife, previously Ms. Goodman, grew up with the pioneers of Jewish emissry; her family, the Goodman's came over 25 years ago to the same city. They watched the small beach town, with the perfect weather, turn into a mordern city. A place where Jews can thrive.

If I would have come to Ashdod a few weeks later, I would have seen a war-torn land. Children aren't playing in parks, since the missles sent from Gaza could land anywhere, at any time. The sky isn't bright from the sun; it is sprinkled with terror. My eyes would squint with fear today, not pleasure.

This beautiful beach town has become yet another victim of terror.

ARM--a new defense system

We are learning, in one of the many classes we have in my school here, how to defend the many attacks that Israel and its supporters face. The defense is called ARM, which stands for Address, Reframe, and Message. With any statement that an Israel-supporter faces, he must first address the issue by either rejecting its validity (which in many cases one must) or taking a stance on the issue. Then, by using facts and by looking at a bigger picture, one can take a more global look on the actual issue at hand. And then one should send a message that, when viewed without emotion, is completely true and unbiased.

This is especially touching for me, because of some of the events that happened on my college campus before I graduated. In one instance the student funds, which I believe came partly from my tuition, was scheduled to pay for a holocaust-denier to speak in an open lecture to students (check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holocaust_denial#Notable_Holocaust_deniers for more info). And yet again, Jews were under attack on Israel Day when the picnic and the belly dance show was encircled by people wearing white bed sheets and carrying coffins, chanting, among other things, that Israel is causing genocide. It is precisely these kinds of emotional, and completely unbased, "arguments" that the Arabs and Arab-supporters are using to taint the Arab-Israeli conflict.

Here is an example that I got from the website (http://www.davidproject.org/):

Common statement: "Israel does not have a right to exist"

Address: The Jewish people, like other nations have the right to self-determination. Israel’s primary right to exist is endorsed by U.N. Resolution 181, which called for a two-state solution in Mandated Palestine: one Jewish, and one Arab.

Reframe: If we are going to question the legitimacy of Israel, then all countries in the Middle East must come under scrutiny. Prior to World War I, the majority of the Middle East was under the domain of the Ottoman Empire. Following its defeat, European leaders determined the boundaries of what would become Jordan, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon. These states were all artificial creations, constructed by foreign, imperial powers. For example, the British allocated land east of the Jordan River to a leader of the Hashemite tribe, who was not indigenous to that region, and helped created Trans-Jordan (later to become the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan). The legitimacy of Jordan and other Middle Eastern states is never questioned. Why then is Israel singled-out for so much attention?

Message: Those who question Israel’s legitimacy are holding the Jewish state to a different standard from all other countries. Israel, like all members of the U.N., has the same right to exist in peace and security, free from the threat of war.

Freewrite

This was written in a class we have here called “Myself, My Jewish Family.” We were asked to write about something Jewish from our past, while some good nigunnim (“soul songs” usually tunes with no words) were playing in the room.


A young women sits,
Learns. Is taught, teaches herself.
She is thirsty for torah, as there
Has been a drought, she thought.

The page comes alive with
Color only a child can draw.
The Torah comes alive with
The memories of her past.

Connection: The young women
And her past. This time,
No angel came to take it away.

(Just as an explanation of the last line: in Jewish lore, an angel comes to each child in his mother's womb and teaches him the whole Torah. But upon the birth, an angel slaps the child on the mouth and the child forgets everything.)


“I felt nothing. Again” I said with a smirk. My Jewish physics instruction smiles with approval after he asks about my weekend. Joking about religion is common-place in college, especially with a promoter of science in place of religion.

What was I really saying? Was I atheist? Did I truly believe, or was that religion based on my feeling “nothing”? If I, at some point, felt something, would my world turn upside-down?

Believing isn’t easy. But logic, and reason, is incomplete. Like the tallest building can try to reach the sky, it still comes from the ground. Like I grew to learn, so too, did my understanding come from the ground. But I didn’t wait for my foundation to shake, for my tower to fall. I revealed science for what it stands—on dust.

What am I really saying? Am I religious? Do I truly believe, or is this religion based on my feeling “something”? If I, at some point, feel nothing, would my world turn upside-down?

Believing isn’t easy. But G-d is something that cannot be ignored. Built on the only kernel of truth we have, G-d, religion goes where no tower can.

Do I truly believe, or it this religion based on my feeling “something"?
...If I, at some point, feel nothing,
What will I do?


I looked to my dad as he tells me the story of his grandfather walking to synagogue on Shabbat.
What dedication, I thought. How crazy...
I looked to the Chabad Rabbi as he leads the Pesach seder.
What dedication, I thought. How crazy...
I looked in the mirror.
What dedication, I thought. How crazy...

New Job and New Volunteer

As if I am not busy enough, here are a few of my new endeavors in (and some pictures from around) Israel:

So I have been making requests on the directors of Mayanot (the school I belong to) for a while about the kashrus (kosher-ness) and cleanliness of the kitchen. The suggestions were taken with open arms, and many have already been implemented. But beyond just implementing my suggestions, they actually proposed giving me the job of Kitchen Manager. It is a paid (but this is Israel, so that means LOW paid) job, something like work study.

Each week, we have the opportunity to do an act of chesed (loving-kindness) around Jerusalem. I chose to visit the elderly. I go to a retirement home, which looks more like a hotel including a lobby, giftshops, and a shul (synagoge). Many of the people are in good health, and are very happy that we are visiting. There are people of all different backgrounds and countries of origin. I am getting to practice my Hebrew speaking skills (hahaha... like I have some).

Last time I went, I started to converse with a nice older gentlemen. He explained that he was American. I was a little confused at first because he had such a thick accent, so I asked him if he was born in America. His energy changed as he explained to me that he originally came from Germany, but that was a long time ago. I understood immediately, because this Holocaust victim had a similar air when he was reminded as others that I have met.

Later in the conversation, and without me asking about it, he told me about the city he came from in Germany. He told me about how it was one of three small towns, and how almost no one from the three is alive today. We ended the conversation with his assistant coming to take him to shul. It was time for maariv (nighttime prayer service).

...I am continually amazed at the strength of humans.

Henna Party

My Roommate, Tzipporah, is planning to get married yud-daled Kislev 5769 (December 10th 2008). Her family, who come from the Yemen, have the tradition of making a celebration before the wedding. During the celebration it is customary to dress the kallah (bride-to-be) in a beautiful gown, cover her with a vail, sing, dance, and put henna on the palms of her hands. Before she left Israel for New York, where she is to be married, she invited me to her Henna party here.

I had no idea what to expect from the party, but since I had been to her family's house for a few Shabbatot (Jewish Sabbaths) I felt a little more comfortable there. As soon as I got there, she was rushed into the far room, and we were all given lit candles. She was brought out, covered in a vail, and we danced and sang her to the seat of honor. Sitting around Tzipporah, we were all served delicious Yemenite foods, like special breads, sauces, and treats.

One of the women there was holding a basket with the bowl of henna dye in the center. We all stuck our candles in the dye, and we danced in a circle as the candles melted down, covering the henna with hot wax. There were women playing drums and singing as we danced. They taught a new twist to the traditional Jewish dance (where all the women hold hands in a circle), and I learned a new step. At some point, the music overtook me, and I decided to show off some belly dancing moves that I had picked up from here and there. The women were cheering me on, so I gave a kind of performance for the kallah and the guests. Afterwards, many women came to me to tell me what a mitzvah (deed that is for the sake of G-d) it was that I danced and celebrated with the kallah. I could tell that all my friends there, Tzipporah included, had a great time dancing.

Once all the candles burned out, the hot wax was mixed with the henna. Everyone got a turn to come to the kallah and smear some of the henna on her palms. The women there also encourged all the guest to smear some on our own palms, possibly for good luck (the language barrier made it hard to know exactly why I was doing anything that night).