Back in Israel

After a few weeks away, I've returned to Israel! During July, I was lucky to able to see a lot of my family and generally hang out in the States. I experienced some reverse culture shock when I first arrived to New York City to see my sister, but after getting over jet lag, I was okay. I stopped in New York City first and spent a few days there as a tourist. We walked the Highline, ate some very good Thai food, saw cousins and I met new babies in the family, and saw "Annie" on Broadway with Jane Lynch. Then, we traveled to Baltimore and visited my family there. Again, I met a new baby in the family and spent time with my grandmother and aunt. From there, I took the train to DC and stayed with a friend of mine. I played tourist again, and I got to catch up with a few more friends who live in the area. Finally, I made it down to Atlanta, where I spent the last few weeks before returning to Israel. I ate lots of Mexican food, hung out with friends, and went shopping!

One of the things I noticed in NYC and DC was the number of people who were homeless and jobless. It was very depressing. People were trying whatever they could to get some cash or a job. I was really moved by what I saw, and I didn't know how to respond to it. When I interned in graduate school at an organization that provided services to the homeless, I learned that giving cash is not going to break the cycle, but at the same time, real change is much more difficult. It doesn't negate the immediate need, but I don't know what is best. We spoke about this topic during my year in Gedera when we discussed the Rambam's Eight Levels of Charity:

There are eight levels of charity, each greater than the next.
[1] The greatest level, above which there is no greater, is to support a fellow Jew by endowing him with a gift or loan, or entering into a partnership with him, or finding employment for him, in order to strengthen his hand until he need no longer be dependent upon others . . .
[2] A lesser level of charity than this is to give to the poor without knowing to whom one gives, and without the recipient knowing from who he received. For this is performing a mitzvah solely for the sake of Heaven. This is like the “anonymous fund” that was in the Holy Temple [in Jerusalem]. There the righteous gave in secret, and the good poor profited in secret. Giving to a charity fund is similar to this mode of charity, though one should not contribute to a charity fund unless one knows that the person appointed over the fund is trustworthy and wise and a proper administrator, like Rabbi Chananyah ben Teradyon.
[3] A lesser level of charity than this is when one knows to whom one gives, but the recipient does not know his benefactor. The greatest sages used to walk about in secret and put coins in the doors of the poor. It is worthy and truly good to do this, if those who are responsible for distributing charity are not trustworthy.
[4] A lesser level of charity than this is when one does not know to whom one gives, but the poor person does know his benefactor. The greatest sages used to tie coins into their robes and throw them behind their backs, and the poor would come up and pick the coins out of their robes, so that they would not be ashamed.
[5] A lesser level than this is when one gives to the poor person directly into his hand, but gives before being asked.
[6] A lesser level than this is when one gives to the poor person after being asked.
[7] A lesser level than this is when one gives inadequately, but gives gladly and with a smile.
[8] A lesser level than this is when one gives unwillingly.

Just because they are given levels, it doesn't mean that those at the bottom are not good. It just means that there are some types of charity that are better than others.

In a few weeks, I will begin to study Jewish texts more in depth and I will be able to analyze especially how social justice is discussed in Judaism. I look forward to learning and growing and eventually being able to utilize these ideas in my professional and personal lives.

This week, I will move to Jerusalem to an apartment just around the corner from Pardes, in a great area. I will be living with two women in a shomer Shabbat and shomer kashrut apartment. I am starting to make a commitment to keep kosher and Shabbat. As this year goes on, I'm so excited to learn more! Keep reading my blog to follow my Jewish journey!

The Last Week

Here we are in our final week of the Yahel Social Change Program. This year has been at times emotionally difficult and incredibly rewarding.

Our group project, Desta Fest, was an incredible success. I led the crafts booth, and I learned about traditional Ethiopian clay crafts, basket weaving, mancala, and card games. At my booth, the kids got to play with clay. While they didn't make the very intricate clay Kessim, like the ones below, they still got a bit dirty and had a great time. My booth was definitely popular! We had so many people come the fair, both young and old, from Shapira, and not from Shapira (even a Birthright group stopped by)! It was by far a success and in our debrief, I said that I felt pride about how well it turned out.


This last weekend, we went north to spend our final Shabbat together. At the beginning of the year, we spent our first Shabbat at Hof Dor, and this time, we also spent hours at the beach. We had so much great food, including a three course watermelon-themed Shabbat dinner on Friday night.

This week, we are finishing our placements and cleaning the house. I had my last day at school today, and I'll be saying goodbye to teenage girl I've been tutoring all year as well.

Like I mentioned in my last post, I am so grateful that I had this experience, and I'm so glad I'm coming back at the end of July. This year has been incredible, despite AND because of its ups and downs, and I wouldn't change it for the world. I don't feel finished with Israel yet. I have much more to learn, and I'm looking forward to learning at Pardes, living in Jerusalem, and finding a new community in which I can further grow and explore.

Don't worry! I'll still be blogging! There may be a gap until my next post, but rest assured, I won't forget to keep you updated on my life in Jerusalem.

1.5 Weeks to Go

As our program winds down, we've been talking a lot about saying goodbye and next steps, and have done quite a bit of reflecting on the year.

I'm so grateful I have had this opportunity to come to Gedera and be a part of the Yahel Social Change Program. I have spent these last 9 months growing professionally and personally, and I'm glad to say that it has been an incredibly educational yet rewarding experience. Obviously, nothing is perfectly stress-free, but I have highlighted the positives and figured out how I've changed in a good way during the course of living here.

We are putting on the Desta Fest tomorrow, a street festival that we have been planning and working on for the last 9 months - starting with a needs assessment and moving into implementation. I think it will be great, and we're expecting people both from our own community and from all over Israel, including MASA representatives.

I think as time passes after leaving Gedera, I will be more aware of how this experience has affected me and in what ways I have changed and grown.

After this program is over, I'm headed back to the US for a few weeks. Then I'm returning to Israel to move to Jerusalem and study at the Pardes Institute for Jewish Studies. where I will continue to learn about Judaism and social justice. Looking forward to it!

10 Best Things About Israel

1. People can be so warm and inviting. I can always have a place for Shabbat dinner if I need one.

2. Shabbat. It is an experience here unlike anywhere else. The beautiful quiet when no cars are around. You can walk in the street. You connect with people on a different level because there are no distractions.

3. I love using YALLA as a way to say, "Ok, I'm really leaving now," instead of the thousand goodbyes we have in the States.

4. I love the number of playgrounds. Double points for covers in the summer so you can stay in the shade and still enjoy being on a swing.

5. That you learn about Judaism without even trying.

6. Jerusalem. What else can I say? You have the religious and secular, history, culture, and politics all in one.

7. You can be at the beach and in the mountains in the same day. Everything is only a few hours' drive.

8. Making fun of Israeli fashion. I'm not sure who came up with the fashion here, but I have tons of fun trying to understand who decided that t-shirts tucked into leggings is a good fashion decision.

9. How small this country is. Everyone seems to know everyone. I'm sure if you are American, you've heard of the Six Degrees of Separation game. In Israel, it's more like 2. I'm not kidding. I met someone who knows someone who knows Director of the Jewish Agency Natan Sharansky (who I have also seen speak twice I think).

10. The music. You hear such a wide variety of music all the time. American music is about 10 years behind here, so I hear songs that I haven't heard in forever. You also get to hear a lot of Mizrachi music that doesn't bother me anymore. Also, in public places when the radio is playing, it is not uncommon to hear cuss words. I've learned about a couple of great Israeli musicians who blend a lot of types of music together, and it comes together very nicely!

Only in Israel

1. I'm always pleasantly surprised when I find toilet paper and soap in public bathrooms because many usually lack these things.

2. The buses are NEVER on time in this country. You can guarantee that if you come late for the bus, you've missed it, but if you arrive early, you have to wait an extra 10 minutes for the bus to come.

3. It's incredibly easy to point out the Americans here. It's even easier to spot the Taglit/Birthright groups.

4. You will receive someone's advice and opinions when you don't ask for any.

5. Everyone I meet tells me I should make aliyah. There's not an understanding of why Jews would want to live outside of Israel.

6. Offers to make a shidduch (match for marriage). When I first got here, every third person I met would offer to make a shidduch for me.

7. Reading English transliterated into Hebrew. It is incredibly difficult to read these words. Street signs in English are never standardized. On one corner, the street name is Eedelson and on the other corner, it is spelled Idelson. Also, misspelled English words in public places and on products are a frequent sight. I can point to a dozen examples. This is crazy, since there are so many English speakers. Here are a few examples:


8. Blunt racism. I think this happens because Israelis are more forward than Americans. I've heard some comments that make me incredibly uncomfortable, but there's only so much I can say as an American living here. If my kids at school say things, I address it (both racist and homophobic speech).

9. Lack of customer service. In restaurants. On the phone. In stores. Related is the rudeness. Israelis are sabras - a fruit that is soft on the inside but very prickly on the outside. You have to make an effort to try to get to know someone.

10. LGBT invisibility. It took me about 5 months to meet LGBT folks, and after that, I didn't meet or see any other LGBT folks until March.

Jerusalem

I've spent about a week in Jerusalem since last Wednesday. We had our Jerusalem seminar and then I returned to Shavuot. This city is amazing, and I can't wait to live here!

Thursday morning, we got on a bus and drove to Katamon, where we met Inbal, our program coordinator, and Rabbi Levi Lauer, with whom we had learned a few months ago. He spoke about his organization, ATZUM, and the work they do on human trafficking in Israel. It was a powerful discussion. One thing at really stood out of the discussion was this question: not only how do I lead a meaningful life, but rather how do I lead others to do meaningful work? How can I work with others to make life meaningful? We talked about the intersection between Judaism and social justice and how we cannot separate the two. I felt that at the end of the discussion, if we are to identify as Jewish (religiously or not), we must be working on social justice.

We then took a tour of the Supreme Court and learned about how the judicial system works with halakhah (or not) and the contrast between the religious courts and the state courts. Afterwards, we met with two women who are active in social justice in different ways. The first worked for the Jewish Agency on their service learning programs and had been active for a while in two causes: socially responsible restaurants in Jerusalem and disability rights in Israel. We spoke about the differences between working for a small organization and for the "establishment," or a big organization like the Jewish Agency. The next woman we spoke to was in her early 20s, Modern Orthodox, and working for a political think tank. She spent time in Egypt and Morocco and is fluent in Arabic. She writes for Open Zion and travels often to the West Bank. She literally was amazing. I had read an article she wrote for Open Zion on the Daily Beast the day before about Orthodox women rabbis, not knowing that we were going to meet her.

On Friday, I went to the Kotel with Savyonne for Rosh Chodesh. Women of the Wall were there and we wanted to see what was happening. Last week, the Supreme Court gave a ruling that the women had the right to pray at the Kotel as they wish, to the dismay of many ultra-Orthodox. When we got there around 7am, we could not see anything. There were so many seminary girls and other ultra-Orthodox crowding. We saw someone get arrested, we think. We attempted to get to the front where the group usually meets, but it was just too chaotic. We left after about 30 minutes. Later in the morning, we met with an ultra-Orthodox guy who gave us a tour of a girls' school in Geula, a Haredi neighborhood near Mea Shearim, and he spoke briefly about Women of the Wall. He felt the Orthodox were going about it in the wrong way. If the Women of the Wall were doing this all for provocation, then the Orthodox should have just ignored them and let them attempt to pray. Without all the hubbub, they would have stopped. He asked if they pray everyday, and I said I don't know, but I'm sure many do. I asked what he thought would have happened if they continued to pray because this is the way they pray. I don't remember the answer, but I think that if the Orthodox had ignored it, then the women praying in the way they want would not be a big deal at all. They would be able to pray as they want without issue.

After this, we went to the shuk and had time to hang out there before we returned to get ready for Shabbat. Our Israeli friends joined us for Shabbat. We had a discussion about what Jerusalem means to us and where we hope it will be in the future. Then, we lit candles and some of us went to services at Shira Chadasha, a feminist, egalitarian Orthodox synagogue on Emek Refaim. I've been here before, and I love it. Some of the service is led by a woman and some by a man, and women sing loudly and beautifully. While there is a still a mechitza, the room is divided down the middle and there is plenty of space for everyone.

In the morning, we walked to the Tayelet, where we went for Sigd back in November. We had a mock panel, where each of us took on a different role regarding the Arab-Israeli conflict, and we had a great time acting it out. We ate lunch and promptly returned to our apartment to take afternoon Shabbat naps! We then walked to the Old City and completed part of the Rampart's Walk, where you walk along the outer wall. At the end, we split and many went to the Kotel, while a few of us returned to the apartments to prepare for dinner and Havdalah. After Shabbat was over, we said goodbye to our Israeli friends who had to return home.

On Sunday, we had a discussion about Shavuot and read the Book of Ruth, a story I hadn't read in a long time. Then, we went to Nachlaot, where we met with two people who work for an organization that encourages Mizrachi Jews to learn about and embrace their heritage. In a way, this is similar to the work we do with the Ethiopian Jews, and it was cool to hear about other identity work happening in Israel. Finally, we had our check in and went home.

I came back yesterday for Shavuot, and what an experience it was! I stayed with a friend and we went to dinner in Nachlaot, then to hear rabbis speak at 1am and 2am at Mayanot. My favorite part was the singing around 3am. Then we walked to the Kotel and stayed there until after sunrise. There were so many people there, even more so maybe than when I went last week. It was so packed. After the sun rose, the morning services began, and while it wasn't how I imagined it would be, it was cool. On the way back home around 7am, I was thinking about what the man had said last week about Women of the Wall being there at times other than Rosh Chodesh, and I wondered how it would have been different if there were pluralistic services on Shavuot or everyday, for that matter. There were very few non-Orthodox women at the Kotel - I saw a few in pants, a few in more Modern Orthodox clothes, but not many. What if we had had a pluralistic service every morning or at least on other days than Rosh Chodesh? Would not that make an event stronger argument for the need to have space to do so? I would have loved to have a service to go to. As someone who isn't Orthodox and doesn't know all the prayers, I would have loved to be able to follow along with a service, but instead, all the women prayed silently to themselves while the men were loud and praying together.

I figured I would not have this opportunity again - to spend Shavuot in Jerusalem, staying up late, going to the Kotel for sunrise and walking the streets of Jerusalem along with everyone else in the middle of the night. Maybe only some of that is false. In fact, I have at least 6 months when I move to Jerusalem to be able to do some of this. Will I? We will see. Regardless, it was an amazing new experience!

Our Trip to the West Bank

Before coming to Israel, I did not like to engage on Israel issues. I never felt connected to the land, nor did I feel a connection to the people. Sure, I knew most Israelis were Jewish, but they were not necessarily a part of my own Jewish identity and Jewish community in the US. The mainstream media and Jewish community seemed to make me choose to be "with" Israel or "against" Israel, and truthfully, I didn't know anything about the Conflict (or Israel for that matter) other than the stories of suicide bus bombings and the Kotel.

Since coming to Israel, I've learned an incredible amount about Ethiopian Israelis, Druze Israelis, migrants and refugees, the climate, the food, the culture, the government, and the Jewish religion. Only now, after gaining some background on Israel, it is necessary to also discuss the Arab-Israeli Conflict. Last week, we spent the day traveling in the West Bank and spoke with four Palestinian activists, who talked about their experiences in grassroots social change. Throughout the last few weeks, we have been looking in depth at the Conflict here, which has proven to be an increasingly complicated situation.

During our day trip, we spoke with a man who works on water issues, helping to partner Israeli, Palestinian, and Jordanian communities with the shared goal of working on resource management. He showed us where the separation barrier would have been built in Battir and its effect on the water system. We also met with a man who works for the UN on Palestinian/Israeli issues. He guided us through a discussion of a map illustrating land usage of the West Bank, of which 60% is controlled by Israel.

We looked at a map more complete than this one. The West Bank is fragmented into Areas A, B, & C.

What I was most surprised about was the breakdown of the land and stubbornness on both sides in relation to the land. We visited the south Hebron Hills to look at a Bedouin village with one legal building and a number of tents. Literally next to the village was an Israeli settlement with all the amenities of modern living. The two groups do not communicate. We saw a kindergarten that serves this village and another village nearby consisting of members of the same Bedouin family who live in buildings rather than tents because they submitted a master plan for the community to the Israeli government.

Many Bedouin villages are on Area C land (Israeli-controlled), which means that they must receive approval before building. The process is long and the Israeli government often rejects requests. The Israelis regularly demolish illegally built homes. For example, the Israeli government demolished an attachment to the one legal building in the village we saw because the village had not received approval to build it. We saw another Bedouin village in Area C, located on land that the army has designated to be a fire zone. When the military uses the land, the residents are not allowed on the area, mostly affecting grazing animals. The military does not use the land frequently, and this strip of land was utilized maybe 3-5 times since 2003, yet it is still controlled by Israel.

After this, we drove back north to meet with two Palestinian women who also work on grassroots change. One woman is a student at Birzeit University, near Ramallah, studying Political Science. Though she received a full scholarship to a university in Germany, during her first year there, she experienced discrimination and decided to return to the West Bank to finish her studies. She is involved with Seeds of Peace, an international summer camp that brings together American, Israeli, and Palestinian children to open dialogue between the groups. Most, if not all, of the children who attend the camp have never spoken with members of the other groups. The group's philosophy supports creating dialogue and breaking down stereotypes of the Other in order to create social change. Many Palestinians feel that this form of normalization is wrong, so the organization is somewhat controversial.

The other woman we met runs the Bethlehem Fair Trade Artisans cooperative. She spoke about her experience as a Christian Palestinian and how she felt that outsiders try to create a division between Palestinian groups - Muslim, Christian, and Bedouin. Her organization helps to create opportunities for local artists, and as a free-trade organization, the profit from sales go back to the artists who can make a livelihood from their work.

The day brought up a lot of thoughts for me. It seemed to me that most of the speakers were pessimistic about macro change, but very positive about micro change. One did not see a solution at the macro level, whereas the others tended to support a two-state solution. It was encouraging to see how a few people were engaged in work at the grassroots level. At the same time, I recognize that we spoke with only four people and that there are many more people, both Israeli and Palestinian, who hold completely different views on what the solution should be. Even amongst the four speakers, they had varying views on how they want the Conflict solved.

At the end of the day, upon our return to Jerusalem and then Gedera, I thought about how easy it is to forget about the Conflict. We live in an almost completely Jewish community. We have our own lives and problems and social issues to deal with in Gedera. The only time most people I've spoken to in Gedera really think about the Conflict is when there are rockets coming from Gaza. Even so, I've spoken with a few social justice activists, my shabab, my host family, and friends, and I am hopeful that there will eventually be a solution and that great minds are working on the issue both at macro and micro levels.