Category Archives: Being there

A couple of funny things seen on the streets of Jerusalem

A few things I noted while out & about in Jerusalem.

Israeli cluelessness when it comes to Christianity/Christmas is something of a running joke in American Jewish communities, and it seems it isn’t all hyperbole. I took this in a housewares/toy store in the middle of the famously “Ultra-Orthodox” Meah Shearim:

Look who came to town

This is an ironic bit of graffiti. It says “Derech Eretz Kadma L’Torah,” which translates roughly to “good character/proper conduct comes before the Torah”:

How do you say “cognitive dissonance” in Hebrew?

And this one is from the square right by our apartment. This is a bench that really doesn’t want to be sat on, and has done something about it:

Unfathomably low, but the trump card of discomfort is the irresistible forward tilt.

The Shpilkes Report

Received this report from Derek, Shpilkes’ foster daddy:

Hello Dan and Family!

I hope you are doing well in Israel. I wanted to let you know that all is well with Shpilkes: he is happy and well fed. I have broken new ground, as he now lets me rub his tummy without getting a face full of claws.

Just wanted to drop you a line letting you know I have yet to lose the cat again.* See attached picture of Shpilkes sleeping with his monkey. He loves his monkey.

Tummy rubs??? He never let us rub his tummy…

 

*Shpilkes pulled off the classic Disappearing Cat Routine the first couple of nights he was there, convincing Derek he’d somehow escaped because there was nowhere he could possibly be hiding in this small apartment.

 

Being here

Maybe the weirdest thing about being here is that, oddly enough, I have to keep reminding myself that we’re far, far away. For all the differences, there’s a lot that’s familiar. The streets of the Old City may be stone, but you’re as likely to hear English on them as Hebrew (maybe more likely). Americans abound, including the constant tour groups streaming through the squares. Other than the texts themselves, and the “Yeshivish” jargon, everything at my yeshiva is in English (most of the “foreign” flavor comes from the large number of South African students there). I get my news the same way I did at home – from the Internet – and from generally the same sources. I glance over the online Chicago Tribune, the Wall Street Journal, Facebook… I look at the Jerusalem Post site more than I used to, but most of its online stories seem to be geared for the international audience anyway. My media mix is largely unchanged, with the exception of being unable to stream WXRT (VPN, I’m looking into you soon!).

Also, when you’re a Torah-observant Jew, there are lots of familiar standbys. A shul is a shul. We’re used to services being all in Hebrew anyway. Shabbos is Shabbos. The familiar rhythm of frantic Friday errand-running, hurried showers, setting up timers, hot water, hot plate, crock pot, etc.; the sudden, forced peace that comes with lit candles and swaying brachos; family Shabbos dinner at a formal, clothed table with songs and parsha sheets; morning davening at shul, followed by lunch at home or as guests, with the usual discussion of the Torah portion, current events, and our journeys in Yiddishkeit; the leisurely afternoon, mincha, the simple-but-satisfying seuda shlishis of challah, hardboiled eggs, etc., the too-soon end with ma’ariv and havdala, bringing that back-to-work feeling… all of it transcends place.

When shul, yeshiva, and Shabbos all feel like home, it can be difficult to remember how far we’ve come. Debbie’s and the boys’ experience is totally different, as they deal much more with Jerusalem as a new, foreign place. But I find myself sometimes jarred when I look up past the stone and catch a view of the Mount of Olives or a similar, undeniably foreign landscape, and remember that I am There.

My schedule

Because I know you want to know everything about my day, here’s my weekday (Sun – Thurs) schedule:

7:20 a.m.: Shacharis (morning prayer service) at Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah (5 minute walk from our apartment)

8:15-ish a.m.: Breakfast at home

9:10 a.m.: Mussar (Torah-based character development) class at the yeshiva

9:40 a.m.: Begin chavrusa (study partner) learning; start with a daf (front & back of page) of Mishnah Bereruah, followed by gemara (Meseches Kesuvos, in which we’re learning a daf per week, including the commentators Rashi, Tosafos, and the Maharsha)

1:10 p.m.: Mincha (afternoon prayer service) at the yeshiva

1:40-ish p.m.: Lunch at home, often followed or preceded by errands

3:00 p.m.: Vaad (sort of a group workshop) at the yeshiva, to work on implementing concepts from mussar class

3:20 p.m.: Resume chavrusa learning

5:15 p.m.: Class on part of the gemara we have been learning

6:30-ish p.m.: Return home for dinner, etc.

I haven’t yet scheduled my evenings, though I’m considering finding a (modern) Hebrew tutor. Other alternatives would include getting another chavrusa to learn something else with me, or choosing something to learn on my own. I’m trying to take “sitting on my tush, blogging” off the menu.

Living in the Rova

Hey it’s Debbie making my blog debut. We’ve been here two weeks now. This does not qualify me as an expert on life in the Rova, but I can give my first impressions.

Surreal. It is a real community in a small town kind of way, a tourist destination, an ancient city with deep spiritual roots. It took awhile for me to realize that even though everybody was a stranger to me, they all knew each other and I was the stranger. Fortunately, it is a very kind and generous community. Which is good since we live on top of each other. No joke. It is the most densely populated area I have ever lived in. We have a small patio space (a mirpeset) in the back that is completely enclosed by our neighbors. There are no windows that I know of that do not open up onto someone’s mirpeset. Living in a warm climate as we do, the windows are often open and we can always hear the hustle and bustle of our neighbors.

The small town feel also comes from the fact that we are a bit isolated from the rest of Jerusalem. It takes about 10-15 minutes to walk out of the Old City. There is a bus and we can take cabs, but the traffic can make it a long way as well. Most of the Old City is not accessible by car (though a few come in and out sporadically, and there are a fair number of motorcycles/scooters) so getting goods in and out is tricky. Still there are several makolets (better than a convenience store but not quite a full grocery store), produce markets, and other shops. And like any good Orthodox neighborhood, enterprising families run businesses out of their homes from a grocery to a stationery shop. Many people also have meat, groceries, and produce delivered into the Rova.

The Rova is also a major tourist destination. It’s sort of like living in the middle of Disneyland. While I am out picking up some veggies for lunch I have to navigate around tour groups and other itinerant travelers. I am often asked the way to the Kotel (the Western or Wailing Wall) or change my route since the way is blocked by a tour listening to their guide expound upon some historical feature. I love the people watching. Nuns in light blue dresses, muslim women covered from head to toe, groups from Brazil, Italy, the U.S. and everywhere else. Teenagers on an adventure, families vacationing, seekers searching. It is totally fascinating. And wondrous – one small spot that can draw so many people.

And why do they come? That’s the third layer of living here. As an American it is mind blowing how old the city is. Layer upon layer of history. Modern – the courtyard in front of Yitzi’s school has a sign describing the role this neighborhood played in the Israeli War of Independence. Ancient – every day I pass above the Cardo, ruins from Roman times, and farther below are tunnels revealing earlier eras. Dan is getting a tour from an Israeli neighbor and can speak to the historical aspect of the Old City better than I can.

Of course it’s not just the history that draws people. This is a spiritual center for three major religions. There can be so much distraction from the tourists and the hustle and bustle, but very quietly pulses a deep spirituality. Hiding outside the limelight of the everyday tourists are the folks who come to connect to God. I have been so busy getting us set up, ready for school, and tending to an infant, that I haven’t been able to dig to deeply into this aspect of the Rova. But I am sure that will come in due time.