Holiday Candles, Birthday Candles, Emergency Candles

                 January 1st is known as Sylvester here in Israel. It always strikes me as funny, since it's named after St. Sylvester, a pope who notoriously hated the Jews. This year, it also happened to be the six- month anniversary of the day I moved to Israel! That's why I love the fact that I moved here on the first of the month- so easy to track how long I've been here! Since last I posted, I have moved into my apartment, celebrated Hanukkah, began looking for a job in earnest, hosted my family visiting from New York, and weathered my first "snowstorm" of the year. It's been hectic, but super exciting!
                 The day after I moved out of ulpan, Hanukkah began! I know this is controversial, but I really don't like "the holiday season" as they call it back in NYC. While many Jews I know live for the songs, and the tinsel, the trees and the Santas, I personally don't. I understand the appeal, the glitz and glamour, and the fact that it is in your face 24/7 from October through January, but I never shook the feeling that none of it was for me, and that it really distracted from my own joy when it came to Hanukkah. I don't want to have to compete for "holiday supremacy", and it would be silly to try! That's why I love living in a country where there is only Hanukkah! Sure, you see a random Xmas tree walking past a bar or in the Old City Christian Quarter, but for the most part, it's menorahs and dreidels, as far as the eye can see! I can not explain to you the feeling of seeing streetlamps festooned with menorahs, buses wishing us a "Hanukkah Sameach", signs exclaiming "We have the best doughnuts in town!" and nary a jingle bell anywhere! It warmed my heart for 8 straight days and nights! Not to mention the family and friend Hanukkah parties, intense games of dreidel, and general revelry around every corner. One night, I was invited as a "special oleh" to light candles with the mayor of Jerusalem, whom I adore. That was kind of a letdown, as it was packed with a million other "special olim" and I didn't get my selfie with the mayor, but it was okay! The next day, I was again invited as a "special recent graduate of ulpan" to a candle lighting ceremony with Bibi Netanyahu himself! I was super- excited, to say the least. I think you might guess where I'm going with this. Turns out, I was one of very many "special recent graduates of ulpan" along with 300 or so other recent olim, all assuming we were going to get some face-time with the Prime Minister. 

Jerusalem's Lamposts!

                      We had to wait two hours until he arrived, the room full to overflowing (and by that I mean only overflowing), while he lit candles and we heard from 2 recent olim. Again, this may be controversial, but I have to say it. Both olim gave moving stories about how they left situations (in France and Peru) where being Jewish was difficult and came here to live as free Jews. I understand how this is an important narrative, but just once, I want to hear this story on a podium: "I left all my family and friends, a great job, a new car and a big house to move to Israel. I lived in a huge Jewish community with 3 kosher pizza shops and 5 Orthodox synagogues in my area. I never experienced a smidgen of anti-Semitism, I never had to work on a Jewish holiday and life couldn't have been easier. And yet here I am, fulfilling my dream of helping to build the Jewish state." This is the narrative of myself and so many of my friends and family, and I think it's just taken for granted sometimes. Okay, back to the event. Bibi gave an awesome speech about how moving to the country is making a huge contribution and I was pretty inspired by the end of the night. Definitely a great way to wrap up the first half of your first year here!
                     After Hanukkah, when the rest of the world was celebrating Xmas, I was making a welcome sign for 3 of my favorite people in the world- my parents and sister! They decided to visit me during their work breaks, and were coming for ten whole days! I decided to surprise them in the airport, which felt like a great idea until they were the last people from their flight to emerge at arrivals. One look at the their excited-to-see-me but anxious faces, and I could tell something was amiss. Turns out, they got all their bags except one- mine. The bag they packed with all my winter stuff and all the things I bought Cyber Monday (so sue me, not 100% Israeli yet) was gone! They put a claim in and we hoped for the best, hopping a cab back to our rented apartment in Nachlaot.

Israel just got way more Brown-y!

                  In a perfect world, I would be living in that apartment- one bedroom, great location, nice size but plain. In reality, that place is probably twice the price of my studio and so it was not meant to be. The next 10 days saw me playing tour guide, a role which I would most definitely fill in another life. We went to museums and landmarks, we saw family and friends, but mostly-we ate. As one does while on vacation, we ate out non-stop, but unlike a vacation in Italy or Brazil, everywhere you looked was kosher! I'm not going to lie, not paying for one meal in ten days has got to be one of the best feelings on earth. And, dear readers, I was allowed to get dessert! See, while my parents were here, I celebrated my birthday, so aside from my birthday cake, I demanded every dessert that whole week come with a lit sparkler and a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday to You!" All told, I had about 8 birthday cakes (and waffles) and I'm thinking of just doing this year-round. I'll let you know.

One cake is never enough

                  While being without my family is extremely hard for me being with them in a one room apartment, 24 hours a day for ten days has it's own set of issues, as you can imagine. While it's great to get parental input on my life once a week, it's very different to hear my parents' views on all aspects of my life for over a week. In one conversation, I might hear their wisdom on: finding a mate, a job, the size of my apartment, calling distant relatives and staying safe on a city bus. In one lunch conversation. And while I was here, living life, my folks were on vacation- wanting to see, do and eat, and I was their logistics coordinator. Did I call that cousin? (Yes, they haven't picked up the last 3 times) Did I double check our reservation? (Who does that? The table is there, relax) What's the weather going to be? So cold?! Why? (Because I don't control the cold front). It was the most intense full-time, non-paying job I've ever had, and I was a Birthright counselor 12 times!
                But then when they left, I felt quite alone. And even though I had coffee with a friend right after, and fixed up my apartment, and my apartment is teeny, I felt more by myself in Israel than I have in the whole 6-months. Not to worry! Weather reports were predicting a huge snowstorm for Jerusalem, so instead of panicking about being alone, I could start panicking about being alone and frozen and stranded in the center of town! As you may have read, a snowstorm in Israel is nothing like a snowstorm in my native NYC. As they are quite common there, they are significantly more rare here in the Middle East. (Or at least, they were until last year, I guess!) Since the country had seen it's biggest storm in a century last year (I would tell you how much accumulation, but centimeters still makes no sense to me at all) everyone here was gearing up for a real doozy. The supermarkets were madhouses (pre-holiday level chaos) and road closures were announced. I'm not scared of snow (c'mon, I'm from Queens!) but I was imagining scenarios where pandemonium would break out in the Holy Land, electricity would cut out, rioting and looting would commence- I was expecting the very worst.
              I packed a bag full of sweaters and wine, and went to my friend Donna's to ride out the storm. We had a delicious dinner and discussed our game plan (We were running out of water and toilet paper and felt it might be in our best interest to replenish those.) The next day, still no snow in sight but with winds that could knock you over, my friend Yoni picked me up to ride out the rest of the storm with his family in Efrat. We had to hurry, since the roads would be closed in a veritable state of emergency. It was looking to be one for the ages. And then----
            Nothing. Well, I shouldn't say nothing. There was some freezing rain. Some scattered snowflakes. A lot of noisy wind. But the "storm of the century" turned out to be "the boy who cried wolf." And while I'm happy that it didn't shut down the whole country and cause untold damage, I am a bit disappointed that my first Israeli snowstorm was such a dud. And so I sit here in Efrat, watching the few flakes lightly fall on the porch, waiting for my hot mekupelet (like hot cocoa but 5 million times better), reflecting on the last few weeks of my first half-year as an oleh (Pretty weak milestone, I know, but I'm going with it.) Can't wait to see what the second half brings! 

The Wandering Jew(ess)

             Generally, I'd wait til the next chag (Yom Kippur) to post something, as not to inundate you with the minutiae of my life, but I gotta tell ya, this past Rosh Hashana was chock full of tears, laughs and chavayot (experiences). If I had to sum in up in one phrase: I walked, I prayed, I ate. But since this is my blog, allow me to expound. This year, the 2 days of Rosh Hashana fed into shabbat, leaving observant Jews with essentially a "3-day chag." This means that we kept the general laws of shabbat (no electricity, no transportation) for 3 full days. This also meant that I had to find 6 kind souls to feed me six festive meals over the next 3 days and walk to each location, as buses weren't an option. I spent the weeks before the holiday asking (read: begging) for my supper, and made a schedule of all my meals. I knew the addresses, times to be there and what I was bringing for each meal. I was a lean, mean meal-mooching machine.
            My first cousins (henceforth referred to as "the boys") have an apartment in the center of town. The importance of this apartment and the hospitality of the boys can not be stressed enough. There are 2 bedrooms, a living area (separated into dining/kitchen/living room) and a bathroom. My 3 cousins live in the bedrooms, leaving me a very comfortable couch to sleep on. Let's keep that in mind as we proceed. The first night, I ate a quiet meal with the boys. Nice and uneventful, we retired to the couches to eat candy (what else do young cousins do when no grown ups are around?) and I realized we were sitting on my bed. I also realized that while the lights were creating a lovely ambiance in the room, there were three lights on in the main room alone. And they would stay on through Saturday night! Which meant that I would be sleeping in a virtual state of midday light for 3 straight nights! No problem, I thought, I'm so tired I'll conk right out. Not so! Between my eyeball suffocation from the eye mask my cousin lent me to the non-existence of any breeze in a usually very breezy autumn Jerusalem, sleep was not my companion on night #1.
               I woke up a bit tired, but mentally preparing myself for the long News Year's prayer service. Since I live in ulpan and don't have much family here, I attended services at the only synagogue I really knew of nearby. I worried that since I hadn't bought a seat, I'd be standing for a very, very long time. Not to worry! There were rows set up with no designated names on them so I chose a seat between 2 ladies who you could identify as Israeli even if you had never met an Israeli in your life. They oozed blue and white, if you will. Lots of bright nail polish, a hair coloring which was essentially a dark black with vibrant purple highlights and jewelry to match their hats and sandals. You know the type. One shot me a look whenever I shifted in my seat and the other offered me a hard candy during shofar, so it pretty much evened out.
            Now to the services. You know those people who adore cantorial music? Can't get enough of an older man, resplendent in his white turban, belting out every word of every prayer? I am NOT one of those people. It's definitely a flaw, but give me a cantor who zips through the prayers at a respectable pace and I am a happy camper! This cantor may have been the best cantor in the whole world, but I was having none of it. I felt annoyed that what I thought was Rosh Hashana prayer services turned out to be a 5 hour cantorial concert. I will say, however, that Mrs. Hard Candy next to me was loving it. By contrast, the shofar blower was magnificent. Like, if that man has another job besides shofar blowing, he needs to quit, because he truly has a gift. Never have I heard such loud and sustained tekiot- his tekiah gedolah literally clocked in at 25 seconds! It's like Kenny G decided to convert to Judasim, move to Jerusalem and grace us with his skills. Magical.
             Okay, now to lunch. This was the only meal where I was asked to contribute food so I made (read: my cousin made for me) rice and salad for the meal. This meant I had to carry this bounty from the center of town to Katamon- not far, but not optimal shlepping distance. I left shul a few minutes early to make sure to meet my friend on Jabotinsky and Balfour so we could walk to lunch together. I finally got there and he wasn't there! Oh wait- maybe it's because I walked to Tchernokovsky and Herzog! Grrrr. So there I was, making a U-turn, huffing and puffing up a huge hill in the beautiful (read: swealtering) Jerusalem sunshine, rice and salad bags making my biceps burn. Finally, I find the meeting point and my friend is nowhere to be found! You might remember, there is no technology during the holiday, so I couldn't exactly call him! So I sit, a pathetic-looking immigrant girl, until fellow Anglos see me, give me exact directions to my lunch location, and I find the apartment. My friend wanders in minutes later, explaining that he left the meeting point just moments before I got there. I failed to see any humor because I was sweating and starving so then I had some white wine and the misunderstanding magically became much, much funnier!
              Dinner that night was so lovely and at a very close friend just a stone's throw from the apartment where I was staying. It also marked the first of the 4 meals I had lined up at chareidi (ultra Orthodox) families. I will say this, regardless of your opinion on the hareidi community, the food is delicious and super-duper kosher! Unfortunately, after 2 huge meals, I wasn't that hungry and couldn't eat all the food I wanted to. First world problems, am I right? After another fitful night in the brightest room in Jerusalem, and a repeat concert by the cantor par excellance and his amazing shofar blowing accompanist, I took the long walk to Ma'alot Dafna. 
               To get to that area (where I had set up my dinner meal too- pretty smart, huh?) you have to pass through Meah Shearim (ultra-ultra Orthodox) and similar areas, so by the time I had reached my destination, I passed more streimels, black stockings and payot than you can possibly imagine. After another fantastic meal, I took a nap in my friend's spare room and made the short walk to dinner. Once there, I told my hostess about my whole "sleeping on a lightbulb" issue. She suggested I stay at her place. "Do you mind sleeping in my boys room?" Not at all! "Then it's settled." Five minutes later "oh, it's cool that you're on the top bunk right?" Couldn't be more excited to literally bunk up with these little boys. After possibly the best night of sleep ever, I made my way to my last meal- shabbat lunch.
              I was eating at my cousins in Mattersdorf. If you have never been there, allow me to paint you a picture. There are a bunch of neighborhoods close to the central bus station that are super- ultra- Orthodox/Hasidic. They have different names, but the basic rules apply throughout. It's the type of place where 5 year olds take care of their 3 year old siblings, gates keep out cars on shabbat, Yiddish is spoken as frequently as Hebrew and clothing in the color baby blue is considered provocative. Walking there, I read the posted signs (one of my faves: "Daddy, save me from the Internet and iPhones"- emblazoned above a crying baby.) Let it be known, I am cool with these residents putting whatever signs they want in their neighborhoods. I may not agree with them, but if that's what they believe- power to them. My cousins are this kind of religious, but so warm and accepting and, well, cool, that I never feel the least bit weird in their home. I did get lost on the way over, when my shortcut turned into an impromptu hike up a trash-filled dirt path with the icing on the cake being hopping over a low fence, but it was worth it. I had a delicious meal with my cousins and their nine (k"h) children, and took my final long walk back home with a belly full of chulent and a smile on my face.
                 I waited for the end of chag at the apartment with the boys and congratulated myself on my first holiday in Israel as an Israeli. It may not have been relaxed or simple, but it was exciting and special, and that's kind of the perfect memory for my first one here.

As One Year Closes...

                I remember sitting in shul with my mom last year in Jamaica Estates, whispering "I feel like it was just Rosh Hashana!" She whispered back "Time only goes faster as you get older. Years go by in a blink." At the time, I had decided that I wanted to make aliyah sometime in the new year, an idea I hadn't yet broached with my family. I knew in my heart that this was possibly the last time I'd be sitting next to my mother and sisters in my childhood synagogue, praying where I had since I was eleven. I looked around my congregation at the faces of those I had memorized after so many years praying together, steeped in nostalgia for the High Holidays I had always known, while still anticipating the High Holidays to come.
               And here we are, one "blink" later, standing on the eve of the Jewish New Year, 5775. Except this year didn't fly by for me. I think when your year is filled with so many events, so many changes, the days don't blend into one another and the year stretches a bit. When I think back to one year ago, it actually feels like a lifetime ago. I was truly another person. I was solely an American citizen, I was a speech therapist in a NYC public school, and I was just starting to attend "pre-Aliyah" meetings, sticking my toe in the water. Over the course of the year I: applied for aliyah, sent in 9,000 forms, racked up many hours of speech therapy, spent as much time as I could with friends and family, celebrated a bunch of holidays, packed up all my belongings and made my way over to the Holy Land to start a new life. In that time I saw friends get married, babies come into the world, my grandmother leave this world, and countless other changes and momentous occasions that have shaped my worldview forever. When you see each year not as just another year, but a capsule of important events that change who you are and what you have always believed, the world tends to slow down a bit. This year of huge changes taught me to focus on the days, the weeks and the months, rather than the year as a whole.
               To think of where I'll be this Rosh Hashana, in the holy city of Jerusalem, as an Israeli citizen, is kind of mind-boggling. No longer will I look to my right and see my mom, devour my sister's delicious salads, gobble kisses from my niece and nephews or walk with my dad to tashlich. All those sentimental moments are now part of my rose-colored past. But I look forward to meals with good friends and family, finding the perfect synagogue for me in Jerusalem, and spending the holiday in a Jewish country where we are all lucky enough to be celebrating the New Year, together. Wishing you all a happy, healthy and sweet new year!