Shabbat Shalom!

So the past two weekends have been lots of fun as I begin to stretch my hostessing muscles. Last week, I came back from Sulha early Friday morning, grabbed a quick nap, and began a harried afternoon of phone calls, shopping, and cooking. By sunset everything was ready and I headed off to Friday evening services. By nine pm I was back home, sharing my living room with fourteen others for an amazingly beautiful vegetarian potluck.

I've met a number of friends in ulpan thus far, and as the first summer session came to a close, those living in the dormitories were scrambling for places to live before their new apartments opened up on August first. Last weekend a friend of mine asked if she could sleep over for Shabbat and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to host a Shabbat meal. Of course, since I'd spent the previous days camping at Sulha, I didn't have as much time as I'd hoped to cook and prepare so we made the meal a potluck. Everyone brought a little something and we had an amazing time.

This past week, still exhausted from my crazy social life, I wasn't planning on hosting any meals. But then another friend from ulpan asked if she could sleep over for Shabbat. Seeing as we had no other meals arranged, I decided to co-host, with one of my flatmates, another big dinner. This time we had more time to prepare and so yesterday afternoon was spent cutting lots of veggies and making a huge salad, stir fry, lentils, and lots of other goodies. As the sun dropped lower, we were still guesstimating the number of guests. I decided to set the table for twelve, even though only ten had responded. As I was arranging the chairs and dishes in the last few moments, I was interrupted by two more phone calls. Twelve it was.

I ran around the city that night and still made it it back to the apartment before any of the guests. With some last minute adjustments everything was a go. The meal went wonderfully well. Each time I've had a different grouping of friends (and their friends) come over and yet the conversations all seem to flow so perfectly between old friends and new. And I can not-too-humbly state that there has already been a shidduch (couple) as a result of one of my meals.

I love having such a diverse crowd at the table - students, professionals, soldiers, Americans, Israelis, South Africans, Norwegians, Brits, people living in Israel and those just visiting. This past week was even more exciting because of all the firsts sitting around the table. Some peoples' first Shabbat in Israel, for others, their first all-young people (not families) Shabbat meal in Jerusalem, and for some their first traditional Shabbat dinner ever. I love having guests, eating well, and sitting around schmoozing until two am. I'm excited to continue to host big meals - especially now that I see how fun and easy it can be.

Next week I plan on having guests over for lunch. First course: gazpacho.

Sulha 2005

Wow. I'm still flying.

This past Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday was a festival called the Sulha Peace Project. The gathering took place not far from Tel Aviv at a huge park and, over the course of three days and nights, thousands of people attended and were involved in some way or another.

I had first heard about Sulha months ago and was immediately intrigued by the concept. People came from all over: Israel, the Palestinian territories, Europe, America, Australia, South Africa, Jordan, Egypt, Senegal, and more for three days of listening, understanding, singing, dancing, eating, praying and befriending. According to the website "Sulha is an indigenous, Middle Eastern way of reconciliation. Our goal is to rebuild trust among neighbors, Arabs and Jews, Israelis and Palestinians, heart to heart, as a contribution to Peace in the Holyland."

The word sulha is Arabic for reconciliation, from the same root as the Hebrew word slicha. The mornings and afternoons were spent in listening circles and workshops on the theme of forgiveness between people and nations, according to the three Abrahamic faiths and from the perspective of grieving families, of soldiers, of clergy, of all those involved and those from elsewhere. All the small groups and workshops were interspersed with lay translators, mostly translating between Hebrew and Arabic, although in a few instances there were also English translations.

The park was broken up into different areas very beautifully. Some areas included the Tent of Hagar and Sarah, the Tent of Adam and Eve, the Ten of the Children of the Prophets, the Children's camp, the Food Tent, the Camping Area, and the Main Stage. For three days, everywhere you walked along the grounds people milled about, walking, sitting, eating, sleeping, and talking in Hebrew, Arabic, English, or some combination thereof.

If the days were amazing, there aren't even words for how incredible the evenings were. After dinner (always running at least two or three hours behind schedule) everyone gathered on blankets on a hill leading down to the main stage. The speakers were incredible, coming from all over the world, speaking many different languages, and bringing together all the ideas of peace and reconciliation that we'd spent the days discussing. The musical acts were phenomenal. Some groups and musicians I'd heard of, some I'd never heard of, some famous, some impromptu Sulha participants, some youth participation. There are three specific moments I'd like to remember forever.

On the second evening, around midnight, two musicians got onstage alone and started playing some traditional music. Next a group of teenagers wearing their regular jeans and t-shirts emerged from the side, below the stage, dancing traditional Arab line folk dances with intricate footwork. The continued their performance for another twenty or thirty minutes, to the enthusiastic clapping and cheering of the audience. On the third morning, as I was participating in "Laughing Yoga" I saw the teens gathered together again. This time they were teaching some of the basic moves to other youth participants of Sulha. On the third night, the dancers performed again. This time, wearing beautiful traditional costumes, it was announced that they would be participating in the International Folk Dance Competition in Turkey next month. The gave their performance again, this time all the more enhanced by the beautiful costumes. As they finished, they called for all their new friends to join them and dozens of teenagers began dancing together, soon joined by hundreds of adults of who couldn't sit still while watching the show.

Following that act, a Bedouin music group got on stage. They sang half in Arabic, half in Hebrew, and it was incredible. The instrumentation was phenomenal, the lyrics were beautiful, and I was sure to track down their name (Rababa Tor) so that I can get a CD of their music one day. They ended their performance by singing a song known by American Jews involved in any camp or youth movement, "Kol haOlam Kulo." Starting in Hebrew they led all the crowds singing "The whole is a very narrow bridge, but the most important thing is not to fear at all," a famous phrase form the teachings of Reb Nachman of Bratzlav. And then they switched to Arabic! Their act ended with hundreds of people singing in Hebrew and Arabic about the importance of not fearing as we go into the future.

The last group was some Hebrew/reggae combination. It was three am. I was tired. So was my friend. We set up our blanket and sheet and fell asleep as they began playing. We were still in the very front row of this huge crowd, mind you. We were just asleep. By three thirty they had finished and the crowd was crying out for an encore. Unlike in the States, encores are not standard at concerts here. In fact, of all the different musical groups who performed throughout Sulha, not a one had given an encore. But these guys did. I was still mostly asleep as they tuned up but something made me open my eyes as they called for all the crowd to come to the open area in front of the stage for the last song. As I was sitting up, they began. I immediately woke up my friend and within a few seconds we had tossed or "bed" into a pile and were standing with our arms around everyone else singing. The words were simple. It was basically a famous biblical passage repeated over and over again. "The most important commandment is to love your neighbor as your self." Again and again we sang. The band started slowly and eventually worked the crowd up into some crazy, fast, ecstatic frenzy while singing again about loving each other. Finally they slowed down again and we all returned to huge circles of swaying while singing about loving each other. It was an experience I'll never forget.

By four am we had fallen asleep again.
Four hours later I was on a bus back to Jerusalem.

And I'm still flying.

PS - I was trying to decide on a name for a blog with all these emails on it. I mentioned to a friend that I wanted something "Hebrew-ish but not too hard to remember." "That's perfect!" he replied and thus was born http://hebrewish.blogspot.com. Enjoy!

Small Town City

So right after Shabbat last week I went over to some close friends' of mine for a few lessons on dog-sitting. They were going away for a much needed vacation in the North, and asked me to watch their dog, Simcha. I learned all the difficult tasks (like filling a water dish, putting dog food in a second dish, and taking Simcha for a walk) and then wished my friends a safe trip. Thus began my adventures. In spite of the fact that I'm not a dog-person (yes, yes, I'm a vegetarian who doesn't really like animals), nor a morning person, I actually quite enjoyed the first few days of Simcha-walking/feeding/playing.

And then came the fateful afternoon. Simcha jumped the fence he'd never jumped before and ran away. It would be an understatement to say that I freaked out. But I somehow had the wits about me to call some friends who were in the neighborhood and who had met Simcha earlier while I was walking him and they were hanging out nearby. Together and later separately they started wandering the neighborhood whistling and calling out his name. After moving his food and water dish onto the porch and leaving the fence open, I joined the search.

In different direction the three of us fanned out, asking every passerby, "Ra'it/a kelev shachor?" (Have you seen a black dog?) or some variation thereof. The responses ran the gamut from, "No, sorry," to "I've already told two of you, I saw him run that way ten minutes ago!" But as the night got darker, people seemed to get friendlier.

"I haven't seen any dogs run by. I've been sitting her for fifteen minutes and I love dogs and would have been sure to notice. Sorry. Good luck!"

"Oh no! Your dog ran away?! Well, I'm going to be walking around for the next half hour or so. If I find him, where should I bring him? Okay, and what's his name? Okay, I'll be sure to bring him to that building if I see him."

"No, I haven't seen him. But follow me, there's a hidden patch of grass between these building that dogs and cats like to go to. Maybe he's there."

From an acquaintance of a friend, "What's your phone number? I have a bike, so I'll ride around the neighborhood and call you if I see anything."

A stranger out walking her dogs, "He'll come back. Don't worry. Mine always do. But I'll keep my eye out for him right now, anyway. What's he look like exactly?"

An elderly lady on her porch, "Oh, no. The poor thing. Well, I only have my dog in my yard here, but I'll pay attention if anyone else comes by."

From a neighbor of Simcha's, "Simcha ran away?! God forbid! What can we do to help?!"

An hour and half later Simcha was back. Panting, covered in branches and leaves and flowers and sap, and slightly limping, he was happily lapping up water. As I was bringing him inside he tried to jump the fence again. But the story ends happily ever after. Simcha came home. His sore paw got better. My friends returned from their vacation. And I realized how much I love my neighborhood and all the local residents.

The End.

Settling In

As I sit here trying to recall what I've done this past week, my mind draws a pleasant blank. I went to class. I went to the market. I did my homework. I read. Lather, rinse, repeat. It's just been one of those nice uneventful weeks. I'm beginning to get into a cycle of life here. Some nights I sit at home, some nights I go out with friends. Wherever I go I run into friends and feel more and more at home as the days fly by.

I hope all the Americans (well, everyone, I suppose....) had a good Fourth of July. Seeing as I've been in Israel for the past three of four July Fourths, I nearly forgot about this one until a friend reminded me. We decided to do something special and settled on "Apple Pie and Ice Cream." Easier said than done. We eventually found a restaurant in the city that said they served apple pie. Don't worry, they didn't. But we had celebratory apple strudel and ice cream in its stead.

I hope everyone is well with you and yours (especially those in England and those bracing for the upcoming storm along the Gulf Coast).

Be Well,
sarah....

Adventures in Bureaucracy and Activism

So I've had a quite accomplished week. (Okay, so I haven't been spending much more than the bare minimum of time on my ulpan homework, but I think I did well on my test, and besides, I've been *busy*!)

I had a bit of an adventureful arrival at passport control when I arrived in Israel two weeks ago and as a result, was given a two week limit of arranging an appointment at the Interior Ministry. I scheduled my appointment for as soon as one was available - August! - but hopefully by next month I'll have a proper student visa.

Next in the bureaucratic process was a bank account. After signing my name nearly a hundred times on dozens of pages in Hebrew, I am now the proud owner of an Israeli bank account. I think.

I spent the next few afternoons and evenings going out with my friends in Jerusalem (and often doing my homework on the bus to class). Thursday night was Jerusalem Pride Parade. I went with one friend, met up with a dozen more, and never even got to see a handful of other people I knew who were also there. There were so many beautiful people, banners quoting the the Bible (for example, "Love thy neighbor as thyself"), rainbow flags and balloons and signs as far as the eye could see. There was a band, and in the end a DJ, performers, speeches, and booths. There were older and younger people, men, women, and people somewhere in between, children, teenagers, soldiers, religious and secular people, Jewish, Christian, and Muslim. It was incredible.

The streets had all been blocked off and there was a huge police and military presence guarding all the two thousand marchers from the protesters. Yes, there were protesters. In fact, one ultra-Orthodox man rushed into the crowds and stabbed three people before immediately being arrested along with thirteen other protesters who were disturbing the peace. The parade went on, joyfully, ending with a big celebration in a park.

I had an incredible time - it was so great to see so many people gathering together for a happy celebration when it seems like the tensions are amounting daily. Jerusalem is an absolutely amazing city.

And now I'm off to shower for Shabbat!

Take Care,
Sarah