we all have two heads-- at least

Today

Part I
Plimo asked Rabbi what the halachah would be for a person who has two heads--upon which head should that person lay his tefilin? Our Talmud Teacher, Ari, noted that this is an obvious questions, because each of us has two heads--at least. This was how he began our Talmud class. How do we deal with our own ambivalence? We can take Rabbi's approach and deny it (he told his student to get out of his classroom or be excommunicated). But ultimately it will smack us in the face. A moment after scolding his student for asking a "ridiculous" question, a man came into the Bet Midrash announcing that a baby boy had just been born with two heads and they needed to know much money to give the Cohen for the pidyon haben. This story is so much of our story. It is the story of Jewish texts--the notion of makhloket (argument/dispute) that is so central to Rabbinic Judaism. It is a story of pedagogy and the need to learn from our students, give them the benefit of the doubt, and engage their questions. It is a story of internal struggle and our personal and collective psychology. It is the story of the "other"-- the person who we do not imagine in our midst or the person we ignore until we can no longer. I'm sure there is more, but I'll stop there for now. I'll just say one personal note: I often find myself in Rabbi's position. Wanting to banish ambivalence from my life and pretend that in my small sanctuary of reason all is clear. But today, after hearing about many of the difficult lives that foreign workers and refugees must face here in Israel, I wondered briefly if becoming a rabbi is the best way for me to do tikkun in the world. Does the overlap of my skills and where there is a need point to me staying on this path? I didn't banish this thought from my mind immediately. I considered it. Allowed it to sit in the Bet Midrash of my mind for awhile. Maybe I'll let it sit there a little longer. It's worth letting it be there, if for no other reason, than that it keeps the conversation interesting.

Part 2
Why Israel is good for me:
A few days ago everyone was asking me if I was exciting about coming to Israel, and to those with whom I felt I could be slightly more honest, I admitted that actually, not really. I didn't want to go. So why did I? Everyone was convinced I could have convinced my school that I didn't need to spend more time in Israel. After all, I already did my year in Israel. My reason was that I thought it would be good for me. I didn't know what I meant by that. But I figured that it would be like eating canned spinach--might not taste so great, but ultimately would give me huge muscles. Today I fell in love with Israel again, but for a completely different reason than in the past. This time it is about the people. I have always loved the Land of Israel and the culture to a certain extent, but this is the first time that I am interacting with Israelis in a semi-professional realm, getting to know Israelis my age who share my values and living in a part of Israel that is not dominated by Anglo culture. I'm sure this is a special group of people, but they are really amazing. They are creative and energetic. They are caring and thoughtful. They are deeply invested in their society, in taking care to build the kind of Israel they want to see. This is not meant to be a scientific statement, but if I were to summarize my observations I would say that I left a culture of consuming and landed in a culture of building, maintaining and constantly repairing the society. Don't get me wrong, Tel Aviv has its consumerist side. But that is not the motivation for life. That is not the mentality. People do not wait around for someone to offer them something. They are builders. In that sense, the Labor Zionist's ideals have really influenced Israeli society. I may be making some gross generalizations based on only two days of observations, but hey, it's better than the usual generalizations people make about Israelis. I feel really proud of Israel today. Not because she is a Jewish state with kosher food where I can flee if someday a crazy person decides to try to wipe out my people again, but because of the Jewish values that are steeped in the society.

Part 3
Beware of the Sabra--I'm not talking about a native-born Israeli, I'm talking about the fruit. You would think I would have known. I'm not new to this place. But I thought the pointy things were just on the cactus plant, not on the fruit itself. And it looked innocent enough. And when I picked it up it didn't hurt me. But my roommate yelled "quick, put it down!" She seemed to be overreacting. I didn't feel anything. As we sat eating figs and watermelon, she explained, "they have thin invisible spiky things that get into your skin and sting." Apparently you don't feel it right away. But a few minutes later I was tweezing my hand trying to get the little buggers out. But they are invisible. And too tiny for the tweezer.

Park 4
Too much happens here in one day to process everything, but it is especially tough when one of the things that needs to be processed involves senseless violence. Apparently some people think the best way to terrorize the Jews is to bulldoze Jerusalem. I was really skeptical the first time that it was a terrorist. I thought perhaps maybe the man was just crazy. I still think he might have been. But this seems to have been done with the intention to cause terror. What a stupid thing to do. 25 people were injured for no reason. This is not going to help the Palestinian cause. Instead, as I learned today, Israel will just stop allowing Palestinians to work in Israel. They will hire more foreign workers. And if you want to hear about human rights violations, just look into that whole system. It's too depressing to think about. Hurt. Death. Slavery. When will we learn?

Park 5
I have to end with something uplifting. At the end of this f***ing crazy day, I helped a friend think about possible names for his soon to be born child. He wanted a Hebrew name that doesn't sound geeky. Isn't that sweet! I can't wait to meet you piloni.

hairdryers are weird

I am totally jetlagged, but wanted to hang out with my friend and classmate Eliana. So she came in from Hod Hasharon and we went to the Azrieli center. We went to the top (50th floor) that has a panorama view. You can see not only all of Tel Aviv, but many of the surrounding cities. We could make out Herzilya's chof pituach pretty easily and in the distance we could see Netanya. We grabbed a lunch of Tosteem (panini) in the food court and then proceeded to walk around and talk about stuff. We got some coffee to try to help my jetlag. It had it's usual effect of making me punchy, but still really tired. Then we began the quest for a hairdryer. I owned an Israeli hairdryer last time I lived here, but I only used it once so I got rid of it. Still, for some reason, I feel like I will use it this time and that I really NEED it. We went to Super-Pharm, but they didn't have any. We went to an electronics store. The cheapest one they had was 200 shekels--a little more than $50. I told Eliana there was no way I was going to spend that much on a hair dryer. I'm pretty sure I paid about $5 for the one I have at home. Eliana spent the next 10 minutes asking just about everyone if they knew where we could get a cheap hairdryer and pointing at the silly American. "Hairdryers are so weird" she told me. Weird? I mean, they are everywhere in the US. You don't even have to take one with you when you go on vacation because hotels all have them. But most Israeli women can't be bothered with blowing out their hair and besides its usually too hot. Instead the prevailing custom is to shower and tight, roll your hair up in a bun and go to sleep with it wet. In the morning, you have nice waves that roll down your back. That doesn't work so well with chin-length half-aryan hair. So we went to the Mashbir (which I accented on the first syllable which made Eliana laugh because she said it reminded her of Sol Schimmel's makpid on time). The Mashbir is an Israeli department store. They had one for 100 shekels but they were all out of it. The next cheapest was 200 shekels. Given that I really feel like I need a hairdryer I bought it. Maybe hairdryers are weird, but Israelis seem to view them as a highly valued object--or at least one they can get a lot of money for.

I'm off to Israel again

In about 18 days I'll be heading to Israel again. This time the plan is to stay for 5 months. So, I thought I'd renew my blogging as a means of communicating some of my experiences with my dearest, although not nearest. Here are some initial thoughts to get the ball rolling:

How I started packing

If only the creativity and sheer power of will that went into today’s terrorist attack in Israel could be harnessed and used for good. An Arab Israeli, or perhaps a Palestinian, the reporters either do not know his status or cannot differentiate between the two—drove a tractor into oncoming traffic on Derech Yafo in Jerusalem. Ironically, or perhaps just coincidentally, a similar incident happened a few weeks ago just a block away from where I live in Brookline--only it wasn’t a terrorist attack, just a freak accident. Or at least that was the assumption. Whereas in Israel the assumption was that the perpetrator who “deliberately,” according to multiple news sources, drove his tractor into oncoming traffic shouting allah hu akbar, God is great, intended his actions to strike fear in the hearts and minds of the Jewish citizens of the city. I don’t know what to make of some of the disturbing footage I saw. As usual, I am craving more factual information, finding most of it filtered through some pretty thick lenses and at the same time not wanting to even deal with that part of my reaction. Of course, whether it was indeed an act intended to create terror, I am filled with dread picturing myself there in a few weeks, never knowing if someone might decide to “instill fear” at my expense.

Another coincidence: last night I could not sleep. Probably because I drank 5 cups of Pu-Ehr tea earlier that day, but it also meant my anxieties were running high. Flipping channels I came across a Christian network that I have seen before. Their entire show consists of fundraising for Israel and talking about their support of Israel as the Jewish homeland. They use interesting means of getting their message across. At one point they had on an Israeli man who was actually pretty moderate, but they kept trying to get him to say how important it is not to give up any of the land in exchange for peace. Then they had a segment on terrorism. They showed bloody scenes of suicide bombings and an interview with a young woman who had lived through one. She described her experience in unnecessarily gruesome detail. When she began talking about reaching up and feeling something wet on her neck and realizing it was blood I had to change the channel. I’ve been having enough nightmares about terrorist attacks in Israel as is.

Sometimes when I’m very angry with someone I love very much, I feel like I’m physically being pulled in two directions. Half of me wants to run out the door screaming, “I hate you and never want to be around you again” and the other half of me wants to run up to the person and hug them for a very long time. Often, hugging someone I love for a long time when I’m very angry will eventually cause the anger to dissipate. Similarly, when I hear about a terrorist attack in Israel I feel so scared that I want to stay as far away as possible forever and at the same time I feel especially drawn to it, as if I can just give Jerusalem a long hug and then feel less afraid. It is true that when I am there the fear takes on a different form. Rather than feeling overtly anxious and scared, I walk through the streets of Jerusalem feeling nervousness mixed with a sense of resolve. I say to myself: I’m here and there is nothing I can do to guarantee my safety so I am going to just live as if everything is normal. And for the most part it feels normal.

So today, after my initial feelings of anger about what happened and how it was being reported and worries about my own safety, I longed for that reconnection. I read through the packing checklist in my Year in Israel handbook, made my own packing list and highlighted things I need to buy using the Microsoft Word highlight feature. I imagined myself there and thought about what I might need. I began, in other words, to mentally connect. Despite my reservations, I renewed my commitment to going to Israel. Hug. I do feel a little less scared.