Succot and Simchat Torah

Last week saw a Jerusalem full of tourists, both foreign and local, attending various events, concerts, mass prayer sessions at the Western Wall and shaking lulav and etrogs all over the place. Last Monday, I woke up in time for Shacharit (the morning prayer) at the Kotel. During Succot it's a tradition that an unmanageable number of people pack the Western Wall plaza for Shacharit in order to hear the Kohanim blessings. These blessings are quite regular in the morning service, but having hundreds of Kohanim do the blessing at the Wall, with an estimated 70,000 people in attendance is a higher level of kedusha. Afterwards, I met up with two crazy Brits and an international motorcycle dealer and we commenced our Succot trip.

First, we drove east into the Jordan Valley, and then northward on highway 90. The Jordan Valley is flat, flanked Judean (and further north Samarian) mountains to the West and the Moab mountains to the East. The latter are already in Jordan, our friendly neighbor. On the way up, we stopped at a base for Gdud (battalion) 97. One of my accompanying Brits served in that unit and we visited some of his friends. This unit is unique because it is all religious, as opposed the rest of the army which is mixed religious/secular. I don't know how I feel about a unit that limits integration, but it exists nevertheless. Unlike some silly tourists, I did not ask to hold anyone's gun. The gdud focuses its activity in the Jordan Valley and the eastern approaches to the Samarian Mountain area that lead up to Shchem. The latter is known as Nablus to English-speakers, an abberation invented by the Romans at the same time as they invented the word Palestine, both done in an effort to erase Jewish claims to the land. Anyhow, the living accomodations are nicer than what I have at the yeshiva, and they have air conditioning. The lap of luxury you may say.

We continued North, stopped for mindblowing shawarma in Beit Shean, and finally reached the Kinneret. We drove up it's eastern shore and set up camp on Dugit beach, where we met up with a group of girls from Nahlaot, a hippy/religious area of Jerusalem. They were a bit weird, as expected, but they needed our help setting up the tent, so we tolerated their worthless chatter. Dugit is well known and had just finished hosting the Bereishit festival - a combination of camping, music and drugs - left-wing hedonists in full attendance. Thank G-d I missed it, that last thing I need is to be surrounded by a bunch of drugged up upper-middle class Tel-Avivis.

When it came time for the evening prayer - maariv - we decided to get 10 men for a full minyan. There were plenty of families camped out, some religious some not. I decided to test the religious/secular divide, a key aspect of Israeli culture, and approached a group of Mizrahi families who did not appear outwardly religious. Lo and behold, the men drew kippot out of their pockets and siddurim our of their backpacks. Not only that, but after praying, one of them gave us a lesson on the Gemarra chapter that has to do with Gog and Maggog. The bigger lesson is - Mizrahi Jews are the best because even if they don't all act religious, when it comes down to it, even the "secular" ones are far more observant and knowledgable about Judaism than the secular Ashkenazim. The Ashkenazim, helped by the European "Enlightenment" tend to be either completely religious or totally secular. The Mizrahim are either religious or in the traditional middle ground. Hence, in the Jewish sense, we European Jews have much to learn from our better-looking Mizrahi brothers and sisters. After some night swimming, we slept under the stars.

Tuesday morning we found a succa to pray in, this time about 50 people joined in. The international motorcycle dealer, who has been to 78 countries and taught himself Russian (!), convinced me that we should swim as far out as possible into the Kinneret. We swam an hour out, and it took us half an hour to get back. I have to say, I am still quite the swimmer, and considering that it took me an hour to get about 20% of the way across the Kinneret, there's no reason why, after some training and with proper safetey precautions, I can't at some point swim the lake. There are a lot of people who do it regularly, so it's something to think about. We then drove to Tzfat, where we took a dip in Arizal's mikve. The Arizal was a great 16th century Kabbalist, whose commentary on the Zohar is authoritative and widely studied. The mikve, ritual bath, that he used back in the day is operational and very very cold. There was a large number of people there, trying to purify themselves.

From Tzfat we drove to a tatzpit (viewpoint) in the Druze village of Bet Jann. This is one of the best tatzpiot in Israel as it affords a simultaneous view of the Kinneret and of the Meditteranean. Absolutely indescribable. We then drove back to Tsfat, pounded serious shawarma and attended a class at Ascent, a "Kabbala" learning center run by crazy Chabadniks. Thankfully, they didn't try to "reveal the secrets," because I think even the stupidest tourists have long caught on that no real Kabbalist is going to teach them Kabbala. They do, however, have good discussions on various Torah topics. I attended one on Ahavat Israel - Love of Israel. Meaning - loving fellow Jews as much as one loves himself, if not more, and the spiritual importance that has to the Nation of Israel. The topic was good, and it was two hours well spent, although I must say I couldn't feel comfortable in a room full of hot Mizrahi women. This is why men and women study separately, usually. Because if they don't, guys like me won't be able to focus on the topic at hand. And what was up with all the Mizrahim all over Northern Israel? We also stopped the grave site of Rav Yochanan Bar Zakkai, one of the authors of the Zohar, near Mount Meron, and that area too was full of religous and traditional Mizrahim.

Wednesday we went hiking in Golan, in a place called Nahal Yehudia. The Golan is an amazing area and the particular trail we hiked brought us to some gorgeous natural pools with nice 20 foot heights from which to jump. From then, on to Tveria, known as Tibereas to the Christians. It was bustling, and, like the rest of the North, full of religious Mizrahim. We came back to Jerusalem late Wednesday night, but I was back out and about first thing Thursday morning.

I did a free tour of the Minharot Ha'Kotel, the Kotel Tunnels, which has be one of the coolest things to do in Jerusalem. If you're a history/archeology buff like me, you cannot miss this the next time you're in town. There was also a point where we, as Jewish infidels, can get the closest to the Holiest of Holies that the Moslem Wakf will allow. Lets put aside the fact that we are the SOVEREIGN POWER on the Temple Mount and we should not let the enemy have local control over our holiest side. Lets also put aside the fact that when we conquered it, fair and square, in 1967, the Wakf handed Moshe Dayan the keys. Dayan, in accordance with the policy of the Labor government then in power, refused to take said keys, and an agreement was reached that the Wakf would rule the mount, while Israel ruled the rest of Jerusalem. A little island of Arab semi-sovereignty in the middle of a city that is totally part of the State of Israel. Absurd!

The key point is that the Israeli government have been acting like a bunch of wimps, afraid of the international community and afraid of "Arab anger." Do they not realize that acting weak and subservient from a position of power makes us look like politically incompetant retards? The Arabs have been laughing at us ever since.

After the tunnels tour, I emerged in the Moslem quarter. A bit of wandering around, and I joined up with a group that was touring all the Jewish-owned synagogues, yeshivot and properties in that un-friendly neighborhood. It was very informational - I had no idea how much progress we've been making in that part of town. The Bait Ha'Tzalam (photographer's house) is the tallest building in the Old City and afforded awesome views. The Arabs didn't appreciate the thousands of Jews who were walking around their neighborhood. But we are the rightful authority here, we gave them all the rights they could ever dream of, and we provide them with money, services and benefits. So their scowls are of no interest. Towards the evening, I smoked some hukkah (that's "nargila" for you Americans"), with M, a skinny little American kid who's a sniper in the IDF, and is in the middle of a medics course. We also hung out with another American, A., whose specialty is blowing stuff up.

Since I had had quite a religous week, I decided to spend Shabbat and Simchat Torah, at Kibbutz Nachshon. This is a Ha'Shomer Ha'Tzair kibbutz, which translates into Young Guard. They are as left-wing as you can get. Well, it turns out that their idea of Simchat Torah is setting up a club on an open lot in the kibbutz, 50 shekels all you can drink, and, admittedly, a very good DJ. For all you party-goers, worry not, Israel still has plenty of hedonists. We've exported half of them to Los Angeles, but the other half still fills the clubs. B'ezrat Hashem, these remaining post-Zionists will either do tshuva (repentance) or make their way to America. They haven't contributed to the process of building the Jewish nation since the 1970's, so they need to shape up or ship out. Pierced nipple, anyone?

Northward

I am going to the Galilee tomorrow for three days of hiking, swimming in the Kinneret, sleeping under the stars and wandering around a festival.

In running news, I jogged 10km today. That's 6.25 miles. It takes a certain focus to run for that long. Up until a few weeks ago, I had been averaging 7 miles per week for a three month stretch. The intent was to strengthen the lower leg muscles/tendons/ligaments, even though there was little progress in speed or stamina. A few weeks ago I started increasing my mileage. Three weeks ago I ran 10, two weeks ago 10 again, last week 12. I should do 15 miles this week and 20 miles next week.

Last night, I went to the Tel-Aviv beach to do some training. I figured I haven't been pushing myself enough and I needed a kick start. So I ran in the sand with a light backpack. It was killer. If you think you're in good shape, go running on soft sand. The sinking action saps your stamina, it's a great workout. I followed it up with some hard swimming and a few sprints just to drive the point home.

Succot - what's the deal with this holiday? Is it a harvest holiday from an agrarian past? No, you deconstructionist fools. Just because we're building a straw structure in the middle of October doesn't mean that we're re-enacting an archaic custom that connects us to days of farming yore. In fact, Succot was never agrarian in nature, because we're in a Mediterranean climate here and the harvests are brought in over the course of the year, depending on the produce. Frankly, I am angry at my Reform Hebrew school background that tried to combine Succot with the American Thanksgiving. Stupid Beth Israel. Of course, they also saw it fit to hire a lesbian rabbi, which is such a great affront to basic Jewish morality that misrepresenting Succot can be forgiven.

Succot is about our homeless state as we wandered the desert following the Exodus from Egypt. The succa is a temporary structure that should remind us of our travails on the way to the Promised Land. The actual explanation is that our very existence in the desert is described in the Torah as being under G-d's succa. We were protected by clouds of glory that shaded us from the elements, hid us from our enemies, and absorbed the enemy missiles in times of attack. The clouds were an expression of G-d's caring for us during a time when we had just gotten the Torah and were still confused and weak in the national sense. But it wasn't all benevolence - if we misbehaved or dishonored G-d's name in any way, the clouds would cease their support for us. They never left though. These clouds also gave forth manna, or sustenance, which the clouds rarely withheld.

This concept of the heavens so directly interacting with the Jewish nation is carried into the First Temple Period when G-d's support for the State of Israel is seen as essential, and the phrase "succat David" or "King David's Succa" is used in various prayers and the after-meal blessing. It is meant to recall a time of G-d's total support and of great national strength that we achieved. The other angle here is that the Jewish kingdom was, and still is, frail like a succa, but, if torn down, it could easily be rebuilt. The philosophical point here is that we are very flexible and that no pitfalls are so major so as to break the national spirit. Hashem takes care of the existential survival, even if the collective succa of Israel isn't quite as big and tough-looking as the forts and castles of empires. After all, if G-d wants to cradle us in total safety, why have we not developed a more robust structure to symbolize His protection over us? Because that would be self-deluding. In Jewish thought, Hashem's ultimate power is not used to create a wonderful, safe and happy existence for his chosen people. It's quite different. We are to strive for such an existence ourselves, using the ways that G-d has revealed to us and the ways that we have derived through the study of Kabbalah, which is the spiritual undercurrent of the analytical processes of Jewish scholarship.

Thus, the temporal aspect of the succa under which I am going to eat a ton of hummus and tehina this week, is not just related to the transient episodes in Jewish history. It is also illustrative of a key idea of how our connection to the ultimate Source, which imbues us with the power to make great strides as individuals and as a Jewish nation, is based on our ability to get knocked down and get up again. It's like that crappy song from the late 90's. But in the sense of Jewish progress along a moral path, and not in the sense of getting drunk and still being able to get drunk the next day, which is what the song is about. Every time I am reminded of that song, I think back to the summer of 1999 when I was the greatest lifeguard ever in the JCC of the Greater Hartford area and the JCC's Camp Shalom. Yes, those were my glory days.

I am spending this weekend in Modi'in, which is a nice, brand-spanking new city half-way between Tel-Aviv and Jerusalem. Three brothers, all fellow West Hartfordians and all serving in the IDF, are having me over. We'll talk about how lame our high school was, how much we look down on the Jewish establishment in our "hometown," and what is the best way to kill a terrorist.

Chag Sameach!

Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur were amazing, thanks to the thousand or so people that packed my yeshiva for services. There were t'filot (prayers), ruach (atmosphere), and ruchaniut (spirituality). Everyone wore white, everyone was on a level above normal, it was quite an experience. My yeshiva is an almost entirely national-religious neighborhood, so there were continually young people, kids and families outside, walking around, going in and out of the numerous synagogues and just hanging out. It was special, and not in a corny sense of the word. On Yom Kippur, there were no cars on the streets, which filled with walkers and bikers. I didn't hurt during the fast. It's much easier to fast when, according to polls, 93% of Israeli Jews fasted yesterday. That's what I call national solidarity. I'll admit that I wasn't praying the entire day like the more committed types. I spent some of the holiest day of the year, wondering about the holiest city in the world. I also entertained a fellow Dartmouth graduate, who also had the cajones to make aliyah and currently resides on a kibbutz up north. He is planning on volunteering for a longer army service, very cool.

We now are about to enter into 7 days of Succot, a holiday based on G-d's plentiful natural bounty. Not the harvest, rather the succor and protection he provides us with, specifically that which kept us alive and safe during the 40 years we wandered in the desert following the harrowing escape from Egypt. Succas, wood-and-straw huts, are going up in people's balconies and yards all over Jerusalem. It is a big mitzva during Succot to eat all one's meals in the succa, and, if possible, to sleep in it as well. After Succot, we have Simchat Torah, when we celebrate the completion of the final Torah portion of the year. The Torah is read in weekly portions, and thus takes a full year to read from beginning to end. I am referring here to the Chumash, the Five Books of Moses, known to my Christian friends as the "Old Testament."

The Chumash covers the period from Creation (take that as you will), through the early peoples, Noah and the flood, to Abraham, the first monotheist and Jew, and the first Jew to make aliyah to Israel, heeding G-d's call. The Chumash continues describing the generations of Isaac and Jacob, Abraham's son and grandson, and Jacob's twelve sons. These twelve sons are the foundation of the 12 Tribes of Israel, and it is they who descend to Egypt and suffer 200 years worth of enslavement there, from about 1500 B.C. to 1300 B.C. Then, Moses takes the Jews out of Egypt and leads them back to Israel. On the way, the Jews get the written and the oral Torah at Mt. Sinai, become a religious nation with a legal code, and are about to enter into Israel when they commit a terrible sin. Of the 12 spies that the Jews send to reconnoiter Eretz Israel, 10 come back with reports that Israel is unconquerable due to the strength of its Caananite inhabitants. The two dissenting opinions are by spies Joshua and Caleb, but the Jews accept the story of the 10. For this, the Jews suffer 40 years in the desert.

When everyone who thus sinned dies, including Moses, the Chumash ends and the Prophets and Writings begin. These works describe the history of the Jews from the crossing of the River Jordan into Eretz Israel, close to where Jericho is located, in about 1250 B.C. At that point they are led by Joshua and Caleb, the only ones spared from the sentence to die in the desert, and commence the conquest of the Land of Israel. Prophets+Writings covers early period of conquest, King David's final conquest of Jerusalem and the outlying areas of Israel, King Solomon's building of the First Temple, and the subsequent history of the Jews in Israel until the destruction of said Temple by the Babylonians in 586 B.C. While Chumash is read over the course of the year, and is considered G-d given, Prophets and Writings are written by contemporary scholars/rabbis and are studied concurrently with the Chumash over the course of the year. The Oral Torah, known as the Mishna, includes detailed explanations of Halacha, Jewish law, and is a staple in yeshiva learning. Talmud, both the Jerusalem and the Babylonian, record 100's of years worth of arguing over points in the Mishna, by the top scholars of the 6th-4th centuries B.C. Talmud is studied by more advanced students and is not necessary for the normal practicing Jew. Easier, and more relevant, is the study of scholarship of the past 2,000 years, which discusses both Jewish law and Jewish philosophy.

I have had a total of 2.5 months of yeshiva at this point and have another month left. I am far from considering myself truly knowledgable, but I hope to have some fundamentals down. Maybe in the future, I will study some more.

Next week, I will go up North with a few friends, if all goes as planned. We will spend time in Tzfat, and will attend a hippy-type festival on the shores of the Kinneret. Israeli love enormous festivals with music and games and general collective goofiness. Having them in open spaces in nature is amazing. Sleeping will occur outside and the weather now is amazing.

And now, a note on economics. Last week the World Economic Forum published its 2006 Economic Competitiveness Index. Israel is now ranked 15th, an improvement on its 23rd spot last year. The USA has dropped from 1st place to 6th, edged out by Switzerland and the Scandinavians. The USA is steadily holding 10th place in the UN's index of living standards, a list in which Israel is in respectable 22nd place. The average monthly salary in Israel is currently 7,633 shekels per month, which is approximately $21,000 per year. On the cost-of-living side of the equation, the average basket of consumer goods and services, including housing, averages to 80% of the cost of that same basket in the US. So life in Israel is cheaper, but seemingly not that much cheaper. But this basket includes fancy-schmancy clothing, regular restaurant outings, supermarket food prices and apartments in urban areas. If you buy cheaper Israeli clothing brands, or lower-end Spanish brands no one ever heard of, and if you chill out on the restaurants and get your food in a shuk (open-air market), the economics tilt much more in your favor. All statistics are by the Central Bureau of Statistics of Israel, and I can confirm from life experience that they aren't lying.

Hence, the only real item of concern is buying a home. Well, I intend to buy "far" from an urban area, because I want space for my money. "Far" in Israel means 30 minutes by car. For some reason most Israelis like to be within 10 minutes of urban activities, which drives up city apartment prices. In Jerusalem, Tel-Aviv and Tel-Aviv's trendy suburbs, a 1000 square foot apartment (that's the average living space in Israel) can run for $200,000-250,000. Such apartments are tend to be 4-room arrangements, with balconies (the average Israeli living space set-up). And yet, that's seems to be OK with homebuyers. I agree these apartments are in nice, new buildings with the right "specs," but it's just not my thing. I would rather pay $120,000-150,000 for a 1,500 square foot, detached house in a rural area in the North, with a garden and little lawn. Coming up with a sizable downpayment, in my opinion, is best done by robbery, chicanery and good old swindling.

There's always the option of living in Judea, Samaria or the Golan Heights, where a 1,500 square foot house can go for $60,000-80,000. You may need slightly larger cajones for that. But the quality of housing for less money is such a draw, that virtually all the children of Jewish residents of Judea, Samaria and the Golan choose to stay in those areas. And there are always new people moving in. On an $80,000 property, $10,000 is a good enough downpayment and the house is yours. This is why the growth of these areas is 5.6% yearly. Way to go Jews. By the time the next left-wing government is voted in, they'll have to plan to evacuate 300,000 Jews in Judea and Samaria and 200,000 Jews in East Jerusalem. Read - task impossible. I spent last Shabbat in a mostly Arab village on the slopes of Mt. of Olives, that has a few Jewish apartment complexes. I can attest to the fact that Jewish property buying in East Jerusalem is proceeding at a decent rate, and the housing cost is very, very reasonable.

Back to salaries. Most people I know here in Israel who have Bachelors degrees or higher, are getting an above average salary. In some fields, way above average. These juicier jobs are in engineering, programming, and anything relating to the technical sciences. Either way, if you have a degree, perseverence and some cajones, the issue of parnassa (making a living) doesn't seem to be a problem. However, well-paying jobs in the government, security and finance fields are totally controlled by an old-boys network from the army, so immigrants who don't have the right IDF background are advised to focus on high-tech, marketing and sales. High-tech is always growing fast, so they'll take anyone who can write a program or whatever those math geeks do. Marketing and sales value flawless English over anything else. Other good options for your IDF-dodging immigrant include the medical field and any one of the plethora of Israel-Diaspora organizations. The latter is not the best salary, but still decent. Finally, there are immigrants who simply have a lot of money and so getting a job is not an issue. Usually, these are people aged 50 plus. I don't envy them. They totally miss out on anything that can remotely be called an Israeli experience and are, in fact, perma-tourists. B'ezrat HaShem, their kids will make worthwhile Israelis.

Anyhow, there are many ways to live in Israel and not die of starvation. Generally, the best thing for most people is to get used to the concepts of one-car-one-family and a-child-doesn't-deserve-his-own-room. It's called BUNK BEDS. That's how Israeli kids are raised and it's good preperation for the army. It also makes them socially more normal. Having your own room your entire childhood is probably why many Americans are depressed and egotistical.

I need to go for a run now. This is Ron Burgundy signing off, and you stay classy, San Diego.