Shavuot, Israeli Int. Program, Driving and Parking in Israel

I just arrived back in the states, but still have a few notes jotted down to mention about my final few weeks in Israel. I celebrated Shavuot with Beit Eliahu, and it was great, of course. Shavuot celebrates when God gave the Law to the Israelites at Mt. Sinai. I cannot get over the parallels between Moses and Jesus, and between the meaning and traditions of Passover and Jesus’ death, and between the first Shavuot, when God gave the Law and the Shavuot after Jesus’s ascension, when the Holy Spirit came upon the new believers. This is a whole blog entry on its own, but if you want to hear it, email me or something. But basically, both Moses and Jesus narrowly escaped death as infants when the reigning king had all children under two-years-old killed, both spent a bunch of time in the desert before re-entering to call the Israelites to freedom (albeit for very different reasons), etc…the first Passover and exodus really solidified the Israelites as a people. Jesus’ death and resurrection created a new people, where one had not been before (Like how Paul explains in his letter to the Romans and all o’ that). At the first Shavuot, God declared how his people would conduct themselves, and at the one when the Holy Spirit fell, He wrote his law upon their hearts, and gave them power to live out the lives he calls each of us to.

Anyway, there’s a bunch more of course, but that’s where my thoughts were floating during Shavuot.

About two weeks before my family came, I got to visit the interpreter training program at Bar Ilan University. They have a two-year program in which students come once a week, all day on Sunday, to learn the ethics of interpreting, and some theory and process. I wish I had more time to learn more of their curriculum (and had more Hebrew), but it was great to meet everyone and get a taste for it. And I was shocked (again) to see that unlike in the states, even if everyone knows ISL, it is not an assumed norm that people will sign if a deaf person is in the room. I have talked with a few different deaf Israelis, and they have all expressed disappointment, but resignation to this norm. They’ve all visited the states, and know that the culture is in stark contrast there. They each said that it is desirable that if people know ISL/ASL, that they would sign if a deaf person is present, but also said when they were in the USA and people did it, it felt awkward and new to them. Like they had too much influence on the room’s dynamics. I experienced that feeling this year time and time again when I entered a room in which everyone was speaking Hebrew, and the moment I walked in, everyone switched to English for me. Of course the difference is that while it is new to me, Hebrew is accessible, and no one hesitated to help me when needed…it’s a situation to be considered, and my deaf Israeli friends and I talked about their desires, choices, and possible consequences of each choice. I am curious to see what they chose and what the culture will look like given another decade of development.

Finally, I had occasion several times recently to be in a car in Israel, and several things stood out to me. Both from my observations from the roadside, and while in cars, I’ve noticed: Israeli’s do not drive and talk on the phone at the same time. The guy who pulled over to answer his phone while giving me a ride home explained to me that if you get caught, you get two points on your driver’s license and a large fine. My limited Hebrew and his limited English prevented us from much more discussion on the difference between the countries.

I have heard they’re doing this now in the states, but I’ve never seen it. Apparently when there’s a speed trap here, where the officer is on the side of the highway pointing the speed gun at the cars, if one is caught speeding, the officer does not hop in the car and pull over the driver. The gun simply videotapes the license plate and a few weeks later a speeding ticket arrives in the mail. I’ve heard of this with running red lights, but I was surprised to hear about it with a speed gun.

Similarly, company cars have a chip or something in their gas tank, so when an employee fills up the tank, they do not need cash or a card or anything. They simply pump the gas and drive away. The gas pump recognizes the individual tank and charges the company directly for the gas.

Parking in Israel? If you’re registered, no need to find a parking meter/machine (like we had to with our rental car – not too easy to find!). There are three ways to do pay. Either at a machine nearby, where you get the receipt and put it in the window, like I’ve done at many places in the states. Second, you can have a machine that hangs inside your window that displays the date and time. Somehow you put in the machine where you are parked and how long you want, I guess, and get a bill for it, or have an account, or something. Thirdly, you can call or text in the location where you are parked and charge it to an account. The coolest part of this option is that when I was sitting having coffee with someone, she excused herself for a moment after looking at the time to make a quick phone call and add time to her parking “meter”…from her seat! I was astonished. Do we not do this because of the size of our country??

Finally, I’ve heard of cars that tell you when you’re too close to something in front of behind you, but I saw my first one about a week before my family arrived. The little machine on the dashboard beeped when it got within a certain proximity to an object before or behind the car, and then showed yellow, orange, and red on a little line of lights as the car grew closer. My friend driving said it’s not entirely accurate – the car is more paranoid about hitting something than he was, but still, it seemed like a great feature to me.

Lag B'Omer

At one point while we were in Beersheva, I smelled quite a bit of campfire smoke, and mentioned it to one of the researchers. She told me it was Lag B'Omer -- the 33rd day in the count from Pesach (Passover) to Shavuot (Pentacost). People celebrate it by having bonfires. The reasons behind the holiday are apparently varied, and I was a little sad I'd missed it...but not *too* sad, as we head back to the village. ;-)

One of the other Fulbright fellows was here in Haifa for it, so if you'd like to learn more, you can visit her blog (and of course wikipedia has info on it, as well.): http://brooklyn2haifa.wordpress.com/2011/05/30/lag-baomer-part-2-bonfire-archery-cake/

Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzmaut (Memorial Day and Independence Day)

I was supposed to be headed to Amman, Jordan the weekend following Yom HaShoa (see the previous blog entry) for the spring Fulbright conference. I had really been looking forward to this, because Fulbright students from all over the middle east and north Africa would be gathering there to share about our projects, and our time in our respective countries, and whatnot. However, I was very disappointed that they had planned it on the same week as Israel’s Independence Day. I had asked about joining the later gathering (they had split us into two groups to make the numbers more manageable, but was told that switching dates would not be possible.) However, on Yom HaShoa, President Obama announced that Osama Bin Laden had been killed, and there was a worldwide travel warning for Americans abroad. While we all agreed that it would probably be safe, the Fulbright higher-ups decided not to chance having a large gathering of American students all gather conveniently together in a hotel in Amman, and canceled the conference. While I was quite disappointed not to get the opportunity to meet up with the other students, I was thrilled to be in Israel to celebrate its 63^rd birthday.

The day before Yom Ha’atzmaut each year is Yom Zikron. This is similar to our Memorial Day, in remembrance of the soldiers that have fallen in protection of the country. A siren sounds at the start of it, at 8pm the night before, and people again stop what they’re doing and stand (my roommate and I were at home, so we stopped, as well). Programs on TV again share stories, and one channel flashes a name per second of the 22,867 soldiers who have died in the line of duty and the 3,971 civilian terror victims. Then again the next morning at 11am, the siren sounds. From our balcony, my roommate and I could hear several different sirens bouncing off the wadi walls start and stop just moments apart and on slightly different notes. Such a strange experience. There are ceremonies in honor of the soldiers and civilians, and many people visit cemeteries where their loved ones are buried. This is all to help people remember (the day before Independence Day) the kind of thing we say in the states a lot, about freedom not being free.

The next day at lunch, I don’t remember what the initial question was that I asked, but as my coworker began to answer it and I didn’t understand something, he backed up to clarify that point, and then as I needed more clarification, he had to back up again, and again, and again, until we’d spent probably an hour and a half on a much needed history lesson. I kept just feeling like if we could all follow Robert Fulghum’s advice on that poster, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”, the world would be a very different place.

That night Yom Zikron (Memorial Day) ended, and at sunset, Yom Ha’atzmaut (Independence Day) began. :-D One of the students at Shema was informing me that Israel is 63 years old and asked how old the USA is. I had to stop and do the math, which he thought was strange, and when I answered, he was in awe at our 200+ years. I had to laugh as I thought of how new our country still is compared to so many others around the world, but how it seems so old when compared to Israel.

As the sun set, I joined a group from my congregation for a time of worship, prayer for the country, and dinner, and then we head out to the street party. There is a fountain in the middle of a round-about that’s partway between my house and the university. The day before, they had covered it up with a big stage, and surrounded it with light trees, speakers, and huge screens. I was thrilled to be here for it! On the walk toward the stage, we stopped to watch one of the many firework shows going on around the city, and I again thoroughly enjoyed walking down the wide open roads that were closed to cars for the evening. Before coming close to the stage, we passed through the security, who checked our bags and waved their bomb-detecting wands over us. How strange that that’s such a daily experience here. I wonder if Israeli’s feel odd when it doesn’t happen to them when they’re abroad. Is it like how I feel off-balance and odd when I leave my purse at home for a day? That a little something is missing...

We danced the night away on the street, with several different artists performing, and all kinds of special Independence Day foods. I opted for the cotton candy that was probably three times the size of my head, and happily shared it with those I’d come with, and those we met along the way. For days, people had been selling flags at almost every street corner, and this day booths appeared in the main parts of town selling all kinds of gadgets for the celebration: noise makers, and giant inflatable hammers, and various spinning and illuminating trinkets. It was a loud, fun, sparkly evening, and I am so thankful that I got to be in the country for these days, and look forward to being back in the states on the 4^th of July (Mmmm, Apple Pie). :)

Yom HaShoa (Holocaust Remembrance Day)

In early May there are three…are they called Holidays? Somehow that seems like an odd word for the first two -- there are three special days recognized in Israel: Yom HaShoa, Yom HaZikaron, and Yom HaAtzmaut. Yom HaShoa comes on the 27^th day of the month of Nisan, which falls either at the end of April or beginning of May (it’s shifted if that day would be on or adjacent to Saturday). Yom HaShoa is the Holocaust Remembrance Day, and like other holidays here, it begins at sunset the day before. Flags are lowered to half-mast, and the television channels are filled with stories about the Holocaust, and across the country there are ceremonies remembering the 6,000,000 Jews and 5,000,000 others who were killed during the Holocaust.

This year, Yom HaShoa was on a Monday, therefore it started Sunday at sundown. At Shema that day we had a lesson with the kids about the Holocaust. They talked about some of the key orchestrators (Hitler, Eichmann, etc.), went over what happened, and then shared some stories about their grandparents who survived – how they escaped and what has happened since.

I was working on my research pretty regularly at one coffee shop those days, and hadn’t realized the holiday would start that evening. I’d been planning to head over there after Shema for a few hours, but when they mentioned that it would start at sunset, I asked if the café would be open. They told me that yes, it would probably be open until 8pm or so. Nope.

I got there at about 5pm, and hardly had a sat down and received my order, when the barista began cleaning up around myself and the other patrons. I asked when he would close and he estimated 6:30pm, but before 5:30pm, everyone had left and all but my table were cleaned and ready for closing, so I packed up as well. I stuck around as he finished cleaning and chatted with him and his friend that had come by for a little bit, and he told me a police officer had come by earlier to ensure enforcement of the law that everything must close before sunset that day. That was so surprising to me! Of course there are days in America when almost everything is closed, but there is no law against remaining open. I found it odd, but appreciated it, too, that people take it so seriously. No one seemed against the idea. I head home and my roommate and I watched some of the programs on TV for a while, and then went online for similar memorials in English.

The next day people went about their normal daily routines of school and work, but aware of what day it was. There were ceremonies held all over the country. The one at our school was sprinkled with beautiful music, and the main speaker was a man who escaped from Europe through a small window on one of the trains he'd been put on, on its way to a concentration camp. His story was filled with twists and turns, and absolutely incredible (as related to me over lunch after the ceremony, by my Israeli coworker – I’d caught a word here and there, but mostly watched the audience to gather information about his story while he told it), but then again most people’s survival stories are incredible (someone was talking about how almost every Jewish person here has a story about how their family survived, and then he stopped and said, “Well, I guess that makes sense. If we’re here today, it’s because somehow our grandparents and parents survived. If there’s not a story of escape, there are no children to tell about it.”) On the other hand, it seems not uncommon that those who experienced the worst of it cannot bring themselves to talk about it in any detail, and their stories die with them.

At 10am, they sound sirens all over the country for two minutes, and everyone stops what they’re doing and stands at attention in honor of those who died. I didn’t see it, but I was told by many people that drivers even stop on highways and get out of their cars to stand when the siren sounds. People had made it a point to warn me that this would happen on Monday, so I would not be alarmed, and I was very interested to see it. I made sure to get to campus well before the siren, and asked my coworker to go with me to a populated part of campus, rather than us being just in our lab with a few of us. (I wondered if the siren is the same sound as the ones that warn of an incoming missile. From what I’ve heard from my friends living in Beersheva, when you hear those sirens you have less than one minute to get to a shelter before the missile hits. In 1973, Egypt and Syria attacked on Yom Kippur, an incredibly important religious day in Israel, when absolutely no one is working – even the radios and television do not play, as no one is in the studios. I wondered if people who want to see Israel abolished might take advantage of the two-minute siren and moment of solemnity, to cover their attack. What a foreign thought that never would have occurred to me a year ago.)

We walked up to the main building, and it was strange to me that everything seemed like normal. The night before the streets had been empty and silent. Now everyone was back to chatting, eating, laughing, nothing out of the ordinary. I wondered if they were having any special conversations today more than other days, or if, growing up with this day, they experience it more like we in America may experience some of our less-observed holidays. My coworker and I took a seat at a central location, and while we talked, I kept one eye on the clock across the way. 9:58…9:59…10:00…nothing. “Hey, it says it’s –” And then we heard it, and stood. At first it seemed like everyone had stopped talking and stood. (I tried to surreptitiously satisfy my curiosity by looking around subtly.) Some lowered their heads. Some titled their eyes upward. All were silent. It was very eerie, and really turned your mind to all the stories you’d heard of victims, oppressors, and survivors. Two minutes is a long time.

And then I saw someone walking. And then another. Three girls walking and talking (not loudly, but not in hushed voices, either). And one other. I was shocked. And hurt. Even if you don’t like Jews…millions of other human beings were killed as well, and more lived on with horrendous injuries and memories. And you openly refuse to join in the tribute to them? I couldn’t help but feel like it was a statement of hate. And that their action somehow condoned what the Nazis did, and what they believe and teach. Not that their faces were set in angry expressions or anything. I was hoping they just didn’t understand what the siren was about. But the fluency of their language I heard as they passed by seemed to indicate they weren’t just visitors. It made me very sad.

It was surreal when the siren ended, that it seemed that conversations picked up just where they’d ended, but kind of metaphoricalish, too. Life goes on, for those who are still alive. We cannot be silent and still forever, but that doesn't mean we've forgotten.

Pesach (Passover) 2011

Once again I find myself backlogged with blog entries, but at the same time I am in the thick with my research, so I apologize that you’ll be getting just a little overview of my life the last several weeks.

Passover (Pesach) this year began at sunset on April 18^th. I joined several others at our congregation in the morning to begin preparations for the Seder dinner we all shared that evening.

With my usual warning to the kitchen crew that I am not very good in the kitchen, but happy to follow explicit directions, I was set to work with another much more confident lady, forming the matzo balls for the soup. Between the two of us we made almost one thousand matzo balls of varying sizes according to the directives that came from the kitchen.

Then it was on to making the tabouli salad. My friend’s family has a proud tradition of tabouli-making, so she instructed me in detail, then applauded my parsley chopping skills, and I beamed with pride as we minced the dozen bushels, then moved on to the mint leaves, etc.

The best part of cooking with other people is the social aspect of it, and my cooking partner and I got to know each other quite well throughout the day, and I enjoyed hearing her perspectives on life, politics, faith, sociolinguistics, and more. (And I learned my numbers in Arabic! Well, started to, anyway :))

Having completed our assignments in the kitchen we moved over to what was to serve as our dining room and helped set the tables with the typical forks, spoons, knives, plates and napkins, and then with the Pesach Seder specifics of wine, matzah, bitter herbs, etc.

A little before dinner, a friend from the international school arrived and we walked over to the German Colony to find our other friend and her mom who was visiting and wanted to join our Seder meal. I was happy to have somewhere to invite them. :)

Usually the services at our congregation are given in Hebrew and you can access English or Russian translation through a headset, but they opted for this night (“Why is this night different than any other night?” ;-)) to conduct it all in Hebrew, and have the translations projected on the screen rather than deal with the wires, make the interpreters work, etc…

Passover is the feast remembering the night the Israelites were freed from slavery in Egypt. You can read the whole account recorded in the first 12 chapters in Exodus (the second book of the Bible), but basically God had sent Moses to the Pharaoh to tell him to free the people and Pharaoh refused, even after the plagues that God sent convinced all of his advisers and they all told him to let the Israelites go, Pharaoh would not have it. Finally, God said that if he didn’t let them go, the firstborn son of every single person, and even of the firstborn of the cattle! would all die in one night. But God spared the Israelites from this plague, to show Pharaoh the distinction. He instated the Hebrew calendar then, by making that the first month in their calendar, and gave directions on how they were to be spared from the plague (Exodus 12). What God said came to pass and the Israelites were able to flee Egypt, not only with their own belongings, but with tons of gifts from their Egyptian neighbors, too. And God said to keep this feast annually as a remembrance of him saving them.

The feast was also a prophecy of God’s anointed Messiah to come. We believe that Yeshua of Nazareth fulfilled the prophecies in this meal (and all the others made by the prophets), and is the one that all they spoke of. So, for instance, the lamb that is eaten may not have its bones broken. When Jesus and the two other guys were crucified it was on a Friday. They didn’t want to have the guys die after sunset, because that would be on the Sabbath, so they went to break their legs (because when you’re crucified, you die from suffocation, and if you break the guy’s legs, he can’t lift himself up to breathe, so he dies really quickly). But Jesus had already died, so they didn’t break his legs like they did to the other two.

Another part of the Seder is the three pieces of matzah bread. Partway through the meal, the middle matzah is taken from the other two (like Jesus came down from between God and the Holy Spirit), and broken (his death). This broken middle matzah, called the afikomen, is hidden during the meal and then at the end of the meal brought out of the hidden place back for all to see (like Jesus in the tomb for three days and then his resurrection).

Anyway, there're of course some other great connections between the original night of the Passover, the night when Jesus ate it as his final supper before his crucifixion, and the one we ate a couple weeks ago, but I hear my ASL/ISL work calling out to me so I will have to share that with you when you ask. :) We ate the dinner, the youngest at each table asked the four traditional questions, we sang the songs, prayed the prayers, and enjoyed great conversation and fellowship at our tables. It was an excellent start to Pesach (it is a week-long holiday with various food rules, and no school/work).

Next up: hiking during Pesach break. :-D

Purim

So, we’ve been celebrating Purim. Officially it began Saturday at sunset and continues until tonight (Monday) at sunset, but since I volunteer in an educational setting, we celebrated it all last week and then had Sunday off for the holiday. Purim is a celebration of one of the times God saved his people from utter annihilation. The whole story is recorded in the book of Esther (or rather, the Scroll of Esther, called the Megillah). Beth Moore has a wonderful guided study of Esther, which I highly recommend to you all!

Traditionally, the whole Megillah is read at Purim. I’m just going to summarize it for you here, but you really should go read the whole thing. The details are amazing! When it’s read aloud at Purim, every time the bad guy’s name, Haman, is mentioned, you hiss and boo, and twirl your noise-makers with great gusto. (According to wikipedia, this is to blot out his name – I think we did it mostly because it’s fun. ;-)) Ready? (Then I’ll tell you how Purim is celebrated here :))

The Establishment of Purim:

So, the Jews had been taken captive several generations before a girl named Esther was born, then freed to return to the Promised Land. However, many stayed in Persia, integrating in somewhat (we know this since Esther was able to hide her Jewishness), yet still mostly distinct (since there was clearly a prejudice against the Jews). Esther was born “Hadassah”, and lost both her parents young. Her uncle, Mordecai raised her, and she was “lovely in form and features”.

After losing a war and feeling a bit disgraced, the king of Persia, King Xerxes threw a huge party – a six month long feasting-and-partying party for all his officials from his entire empire (which was huge)! Well, at the culmination of all this partying, he had all the guys together in the throne room and called for his queen, Queen Vashti to come show off her beauty. There are lots of theories as to why, but whatever the reason, she refused to come. Well, bad enough for a husband to be embarrassed like this in front of his buddies, but how much worse a king before his subjects, right? He was furious and asked his advisors what he should do. Following their advice he expelled Vashti (I’m thinking it could have been worse, right?). Anyway, he went off to war (I think with Greece?).

When he got back from war, it seems he was a little sad without Vashti, so his attendants suggested he hold a beauty contest for all the virgins in his empire, so he could pick a new queen. Hadassah was one of these girls. The young ladies were collected to the palace in Susa and put under the charge of Hegai, the king’s eunuch. Hegai liked Esther right off the bat, and he showered her with gifts. She kept her Jewishness a secret, because Mordecai (her uncle who raised her) told her she must, hence the going by her Persian name, Esther. All the girls had to go through a year’s beauty treatments before going in to the king, and Mordecai came to visit Esther all throughout the year. When the king met her…viola! What do you think? She of course was chosen to be the new queen.

One day as Mordecai was sitting by the king’s gate, he overheard two of the king’s officers who guarded the door plotting to assassinate the king. Mordecai told Queen Esther and she reported it to the king. After an investigation found it to be true, the conspirators were hanged and the whole incident recorded in the king’s daily record – but Mordecai didn’t receive any award or recognition or anything…

So, while all this was going on, another man, Haman (boooo!!!) was working his way up in the palace courts. Eventually King Xerxes promoted him higher than all the other nobles. He decreed that everyone had to bow down to Haman (hssssss), and pay him honor. But Mordecai refused to bow. The other people tried to persuade him, but he would not budge, and so they told Haman (booo) about it to see what he’d do “for [Mordecai] had told them he was a Jew”. Apparently Haman’s (hssss) anti-Semitism was no secret.

He was furious that Mordecai would not bow, but having learned that he was a Jew, he did not want to kill just Mordecai, but his entire race. So, he hatched a plan…he told the king that the Jews did not follow the laws, and it would be best to destroy them. King Xerxes (I can all but see him shrug his shoulders), gave him his signet ring and told him to, “do with the people as you please.” Haman (booo) cast lots, which is like rolling dice, to decide which day to carry out the annihilation. The lot he used was called the “Pur” – plural: “Purim”…and it chose the month of Adar, 11 months out. So “dispatches were sent by couriers to all the king’s provinces with the order to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews—young and old, women and little children—on a single day, the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, the month of Adar, and to plunder their goods.” Holy threat, Batman! And really? Destroy, kill, AND annihilate? One verb wasn’t enough, eh? :-( After the edict was sent out “the king and Haman (ick, yick, yick!) sat down to drink.” Really? Just like that.

Anyway, so Esther and Mordecai and the rest of the Jews from India to Egypt were understandably upset. Mordecai told Esther that she needed to go plead with the king for their salvation, but there was a problem. The law said that no one could come to the king unless he sent for them, and she’d not been sent for in over a month – and the penalty of approaching him unbeckoned? Death. Only if, when you came into the court unsummoned, if he lowered his scepter (that big stick kings have) to you would you not be put to death then and there. And he had not called for her in over thirty days; you’re figuring she might be feeling a bit unwanted, yeah?

But Mordecai was not going to let up. He said, “Look Hadassah…” Okay, he probably didn’t say that, but something like that probably…he followed that up with: “Do not think that because you are in the king’s house you alone of all the Jews will escape. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (Don’t you just love the faith he has? He knows it’s not Esther who will or will not bring deliverance. . .)

Esther probably straightened her spine and took a deep breath before responding, “Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my maids will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.” So her uncle obeyed her and they all fasted and prayed for three days (and somewhere in there she also prepared a grand banquet).

When she went before the king, he did put out his scepter and saved her life. Not only that, he greeted her with, “What is it, Queen Esther? What is your request? Even up to half the kingdom, it will be given you.” Talk about a blank check from the king! But, really, ladies, don’t ever ask your husband to admit he was wrong and to change his mind on some huge decision in front of his employees, or friends, or whoever.

Esther was smooth as silk. She didn’t make her request to change the law or whatnot, but to come to the banquet she’d prepared for him, and to bring Haman (booooo) along. He agreed (who wouldn’t?!), and they came to dinner. Afterward, he turned to her again, “Now what is your petition? It will be given you. And what is your request? Even up to half the kingdom, it will be granted.” But did she come out with it? Certainly not!

Lots of people speculate as to why she didn’t at that point. But the reason that seems most likely to me is that either when she’d been in the three days of fasting, or right at that moment, God told her to hold off. He had some stuff planned for the next 24 hours that needed to happen before her request was brought up.

So, check out what happened between that banquet and the one the next night.

Haman (hsssss) went out all fat and happy and proud that he was the only one to dine with the king and queen…and then he saw Mordecai and totally let this one little thing of one single man in all the kingdom that wouldn’t bow down to him rob his joy. He went home and bragged to his family and friends all about how great he was and how rich and powerful and all of this, and then ended it by complaining about Mordecai. Zeresh, his wife had a great idea. Why not build a huge gallows, 75 feet high (by the way, the name Mordecai means “short”. What’s with a 75 ft. gallows to hang a 5 foot man?), and in the morning, go ask the king to hang Mordecai and then go to dinner with the king and queen and stop your whining. She probably said it just like that, eh? ;-) He thought it was a grand idea, and ordered the gallows to be built.

Well it just so happened (cough), that the king couldn’t get to sleep that night. He asked for his attendants to read his daily logs to him (nothing like the minutes of meetings to put you out, eh?). And it just so happened (ahem) that they read the part of the record about Mordecai reporting the assassination plot. King Xerxes asked how he’d been commended and found out he hadn’t even been sent a nice thank you letter. So, apparently this tossing and turning and reading and discussing went all the way through the night and into the morning, because just as Xerxes found out Mordecai had not been rewarded, he heard footsteps in the court and asked who was there. And it just so happened (sniff) that it was Haman (bleaaaah) coming to ask to have Mordecai hung on the gallows he’d just had built!

So, the king thought it’s great timing that his head official has arrived just as he needs some advice and asked, “What should be done for the man the king delights to honor?” And Haman (Arrrrr) thinks, “Who is there that the king would rather honor than me?” and he answered by basically advising the king to make a fancy parade in his honor. He’s all smug and whatnot until the king says it’s a great idea and says, “Go at once…and do just as you have suggested for Mordecai the Jew”!!! (You should go read the details of what happened then, because it makes me laugh every time…anyway)

So, after all this happened in those twenty-four hours, the king and Haman (booooo) went to Esther’s second banquet and the king asked again, “Queen Esther, what is your petition? It will be given to you. What is your request? Even up to half the kingdom, it will be granted.” And Esther FINALLY answered:

“If I have found favor with you, O king, and if it pleases your majesty, grant me my life—this is my petition. And spare my people—this is my request. For I and my people have been sold for destruction and slaughter and annihilation. If we had merely been sold as male and female slaves, I would have kept quiet, because no such distress would justify disturbing the king.”

Well of course it came out who was behind the plot, and instead of Mordecai being hung on the 75 ft. gallows, Haman (hsss) was hung instead and his job given to Mordecai and his estate to Esther. And a second law was passed that Jews in every city could assemble and protect themselves and plunder the property of their enemies on the day that was meant for their destruction. And not only did they not get killed, but many people of other nationalities became Jews, too! And the Jews took it upon themselves to establish the custom to celebrate the anniversary of this day as a holiday: Purim, because it was the casting of the “pur” that had determined the day. Mordecai and Queen Esther confirmed the idea, and so it is still celebrated to this day.

Modern Purim:

So, I don’t know how Esther and Mordecai celebrated with their friends, but this year in Haifa, I celebrated with my friends in a few ways. First of all, by eating way way too many Hamantashens (direct translation: “Haman’s ears” Ew, right? But nono, they’re delicious. :)).

Then by sorting through my closet to create a makeshift costume. I found a wrap-around skirt that became a cape, and then fashioned a dress, leggings, and boots into the rest of a super-hero costume and came flying out of my bedroom into the living room to show my concoction to my roommate.

She was elated and we decided to go as the “Dynamic Duo”! A couple days later and we both had wigs and masks from a nearby convenient store (Purim is big here, and pretty much everywhere has some kind of costume paraphernalia. :)) I adorned just the cape and mask for the Purim party at Shema on Thursday – at which we solved a murder mystery! And then got the whole costume together to visit Beit Evenezer (the retirement home our congregation is connected with) and for the Purim party that night.

The next day I met up with a friend downtown for the Purim parade and street party. It kind of seemed to me like a mixture of Halloween and Mardi Gras, though without the spooky element of Halloween and more mild than Mardi Gras (although I was hanging around where there were children, so who knows. ;-)) There’s loud music, dancing, food, and costumes of EVERY shape and size imaginable. Of course there were lots of little Disney Princesses, comic book heroes and cartoon characters, and cats of every kind (lions, leopards, etc.), but there were lots of inanimate objects walking all around, too – human-sized magic markers and whatnot. It was quite fun, but I can hardly wait for Passover in just a few more weeks! :-)

A Gentle Stroll through a Flowing Stream of Consciousness

When I predicted that as I settled into more of a day-to-day routine my frequency of posting would drop off, was I correct? Or have I dropped off my frequency of posting because I predicted that? Anyway, I have not forgotten you, oh blog-readers, and while I have not taken the time to post as often as I did before, I think of you often. As evidence to the fact, I have beside me a growing list of thoughts I’ve had in this day-to-day life of things to share with you. Surely if I had sat down the evening after each thought arose, each would have its own full-length post. As it is, several will only receive honorable mention and be all but passed over. The first of which being that I find it more amusing than I think most do that in Israel one does not choose the cheese for her sandwich by words like “Cheddar”, “Mozzarella”, or “Swiss”, but rather “Yellow” or “White”…even though I see no lack of variety in cheeses at the market or shuk! Go figure. The same goes for the bread at restaurants: Not “white, wheat, sourdough, rye, or pumpernickel” (Who serves pumpernickel?), but “Brown or white?” Brown. Always brown!

Also in the genre of ordering: “Mint Tea” does not mean an herbal infusion composed of mint, peppermint, or spearmint, but rather a mug of hot water with mint leaves in it, and a Lipton teabag on the saucer for you to seep to your heart’s content. The vast majority of places do not serve what I usually picture when I think of “just normal coffee” (i.e., drip coffee). Therefore, if you sit down for dessert and they offer you coffee, a simple “yes” is rarely sufficient, though such an answer will often get you a latte. If you don’t want milk, you better ask for an Americano (espresso and hot water – which I think looks and tastes like drip coffee, but my coffee connoisseur friend assures me I am mistaken), or a Macchiato (which comes in a teeny little mug that takes you back to your days of play-tea-parties with dolls and acorn cups. No, I never actually had such experiences, but I have just recently caught up on the Mary Russell book series, and in the last two books one of the main characters is a little girl who likes to play Tea Party. (By the way, Laurie R. King, if you read this: my friend and I are eagerly awaiting your next book – and Ms. Sterling we hope you will continue to read them onto tape, because what would Mary and Sherlock be without your bringing them to life!)

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A few months ago someone asked a group of us from the USA what we missed about our country. Aside from people I miss, I had a hard time coming up with something. He asked if I was saying that Israel is better, and I replied that they are both great places, just each in their own ways. I spent several days afterward contemplating what I miss from home. And I discovered it. Smoking laws. Yep, that’s what I came up with. I miss the attitude that most people from the USA have regarding smoking, and the laws that provide me with some respite from second-hand smoke. I wish I had asked my doctor for a lung scan before coming here, because then we could do a post year-of-second-hand-smoke scan and I think have some interesting findings…will my lungs clean up next year when I return? Anyway, it’s quite telling to me that even after several days of consideration, I only came up with the one thing. :) (And of course I miss a few restaurants and Disneyland, too, but I hardly think those count. ;-))

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Soon after arriving I learned the phrase, “Le’at, le’at”. It essentially means “Slowly, but surely” and is often used as an encouragement to people learning Hebrew. Well, I heard it from various professors, which made sense to me, but when I started hearing it from taxi drivers, baristas, and grocery store clerks, it fascinated me. If someone in the states is clearly still learning English, I smile at them and try to encourage them, and practice patience, but it never occurs to me to say, “You’ll get it, just keep practicing. Day by day it’ll come.” (Le’at, le’at, is literally “Slowly, slowly”.) Here, I find that is a very common response to my broken Hebrew followed by a laugh and a shrug. Is it because of the country’s (and language’s) recent beginning, with such an incredible number of immigrants and new language learners? The government has made a concerted and conscious effort to help new immigrants to learn Hebrew and get integrated into society if they want. Has that making the process so explicit created this culture of encouragement and taking my broken language in stride? It’s so nice! :-)

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At one point in my ISL course, someone was spelling a Hebrew word that had a daled (ך) in it, and was having trouble remembering how to pronounce that letter in ISL (to all you non-signers, when I say “pronounce” I simply mean what shape to make the hand(s), where to put them, and how to move them, etc.). The professor reminded him how to sign “Daled”, and everyone practiced and looked at their hands, commenting on how it is not iconic at all. The professor explained, “You know how the sound that a Daled makes in Hebrew is similar to the sound that a Dee makes in English? Well, ASL has a sign for “D” that looks like the English written “d”. ISL borrowed the ASL “D” into our aleph bet.” Ohhh…. Well, anyway, that’s what he would have said if the students were fluent. Basically, he showed them how to sign it, and then wrote an English “d” on the board next to the Hebrew “ך” and held his hand up next to it to show them it iconicity from the written English letter to the signed ISL letter. It was so funny to hear the whole class verbalize an “Ohhhh” all together, like it was a play and the audience was responding to a well-executed monologue.

My “Ohhh” of course was in response to my own revelation that to them the sign was far from iconic, looking nothing like the horizontal and vertical lines that create a Daled. I was coming from such a different paradigm. Borrowing is so interesting. We have the same phenomenon in ASL with signs we’ve borrowed form LSF (the sign language used in France). Our sign that means looking for something, people often gloss as SEARCH, and explain the handshape as perhaps referring to a magnifying glass or something. But actually it seems to come from an initialized sign from LSF, where the French word of the same concept begins with a C. Go figure. :)

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My research is coming along well. I have finished coding the data and am working with my co-researcher on comparing the ASL and ISL. I’m hoping soon I will also begin a preliminary look at the ABSL data, and will be brainstorming with the team on how to go about conducting a comparison, given the very distinct sociolinguistic situation (and consequently different data set) of ABSL from the other two languages. I’m having a great time; I find it amusing how often, sitting in a coffee shop looking at my data with brows slightly furrowed in concentration, my food or drink all but forgotten by my side, I will all of a sudden, with no apparent instigation (to my fellow coffee drinkers, at least), burst out laughing. Last time it was in appreciation for one of my ASL participants who looked at the English sentence she was asked to translate, signed it to herself a few times, then looked up laughing and said, “I don’t know how to say that in ASL!” I laughed heartily because more than once someone here has asked me how to say some Hebrew word or phrase in English (after explaining it to me for several minutes) and after a beat or two, I’ve blinked and said the same thing, “Well! I don’t know how to say that in English!”

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I am very happy with how my Hebrew is coming along (although, of course I always wish it were better ;-)). I find it is really quite poor in the mornings – as if my brain hasn’t woken up enough to access my foreign language module? But once it warms up, I can conduct most daily interactions smoothly. Well, externally smoothly, at least. I order my food, and at the next question, catch the words “want” and “drink” and answer, “Lo, toda”, happy I caught the important words and that I have my water bottle, so don’t have to try to make a choice and speak at the same time. Then the cashier opens her mouth again and my brain stops congratulating itself and snaps back to attention in time to catch “which kind” and, oh, was that “milk”? Oh! No, it was “bread”. “Hoom”, I answer: Brown bread with my salad, not white. I exhale and try to lower my heart rate back to its normal pace, but then there she goes again! She’s inhaling! Quick, what else could she possibly be asking? Oh, she said, “Which” again! Hmmm…oh, I ordered a salad… “Which are there?” I ask, thinking I know what we’re talking about…though I may have said “Which is there” in my attempt to ask, “What are my options?” (a far too complex question for my language level). Anyways, she begins listing something and I focus all my attention on grasping each word. I thankfully catch “Vinaigrette” and order that as my dressing. Finally, her intonation tells me this next question is the last one, and I catch “Shem”. I release a huge internal sign of relief, “Chris”, I say, trying not to beam too obviously over the personal victory I just accomplished. Please, oh please don’t ask anything else. I need a rest. My head feels like it’s about to explode after that unexpected “What kind of dressing would you like” curve ball! I take my tray to the table, and calmly pull out my laptop or book, and pick up my fork, replaying the whole scenario and considering other sentences I might have constructed, or words I might try out next time, before getting down to the work at hand.

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On Thursday nights I join some other women from my congregation for Bible study. There is an English speaking group on Tuesdays, but I learned of this one first, and thoroughly enjoy it. So even though I sometimes get lost in all the Hebrew, I am happy to continue in it. Almost everyone there also speaks English, but I ask them to speak in Hebrew most of the time (I’m never comfortable with the power that English commands), assuring them that I am understanding parts, and don’t mind when I am lost. When I really cannot figure out what we’re discussing, I take the time to pray silently for the study, for the other women, for my Hebrew learning, for whatever the text has brought to mind, for…oh, all kinds of things come up during those times! It is certainly not wasted time. And hey, who knows how my brain is subconsciously taking in the exposure to the Hebrew still entering my ears even while my conscious mind is on whatever God and I are discussing at the moment. At the end, when we’re sharing prayer requests, I make a more concerted effort to grasp the main points, and then I do sometimes ask for English translations. But during the study, I do find that I understand quite a lot (it helps that I know the text, of course!).

We are studying the first few chapters of Bereshit (Genesis), and it’s been a great study. We are practicing inductive Bible study, so each week some things come up that none of us have noticed before. Quite a few things regarding Eve have stuck out to me that I had never noticed before. Like that when God gave the command to not eat from the tree of the knowledge of tov and ra, that Eve wasn’t even there yet. While it’s pretty clear that Adam related it to Eve, really the command was given to him, not her. (I’m not venturing interpretations from that fact; it’s just something I never noticed before, and may offer some insight regarding things like Romans 5 and 1 Cor 15, etc…(Also, in my Hebrew course we learned that the word translated “sin”, which I’ve learned before means “to miss the mark” is the same one that today you hear from announcers at basketball games in Israel when someone misses the basket.))

Then when the serpent was talking to Eve (with Adam standing right there, of course), the serpent misquoted God, which we all know. But also Eve, in trying to correct the serpent, also misquoted God…which gave deceit an open door. Eve took on herself a stricter rule than God did, and inaccurately prescribed it to God. It struck me how important it is to know and recall which things we do based on what God says and which we do based on culture, our country’s laws, or out of our own decisions — and how our relationships to each set of guidelines differ from one another.

I also never noticed that Adam was created outside of Eden, while it seems Eve was formed inside it, and of course Adam was made of dust, and Eve, from flesh (there was discussion on the Hebrew word most often translated “rib”, but anyway, flesh and bone). Again, not sure what to make of it all, just interesting to notice new things from a text I’ve read dozens of times.

It was a nice reminder again that only on the sixth day of creation did God not say that all was “tov”. In one of my classes we discussed the translation of “tov”. In this context, “good” seems to mean “complete”, not needing any addition or adjustment. So, all was complete up until the creation of man. But once man was created, the earth was not complete until his partner was also created. I have heard Eve compared to the final touch of a masterpiece, to the final crescendo of a symphony, called the crown of creation. It was interesting, also, to discuss the specific consequences to the serpent, to the earth, to Adam, and to Eve, after they ate from the tree. We talked about how our choices affect not only our own lives, but potentially everyone and everything in our sphere of influence, and noted that God cursed the serpent, and that the land was cursed, but the consequences described to Adam and Eve were not called “curses”.

And I was pretty stoked at the cool imagery of Adam and Eve, after eating from the tree they weren’t supposed to, hiding behind the trees they were originally welcomed to eat from. But instead of using those blessings as they were meant to be used (lunch, dessert, perhaps for building forts, and arts and crafts, etc. ;-)), they used them as hiding places. Do we ever use blessings from God not in the way they’re meant to be used, but as a way of hiding from someone or something? Ooo, nice metaphors. ;-)

Then Adam and Eve were sent out of the Garden, to work the land from which Adam had been made, and a guard was set over the way to the tree of life – often people talk about this guard as keeping people away from the tree of life. But another way to look at it is that the guard over the Way to the Tree of Life is there to ensure that that Way will be kept passable and safe so people can return to the tree of Life…

Anyway, sometimes I’m not sure what everyone else is getting out of the discussions in Hebrew – perhaps we discussed all these things, but then again, perhaps they were talking about bread, and I thought they said milk, and went down an entirely different line of thought, haha. Sometimes I jot down words I don’t know, if I can catch their pronunciation. Other times I infer their meaning based on context. Other times I ask my neighbor. And other times I read the passage again and pray while I wait for the topic to return to something including more vocabulary I recognize. :-)

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On Sundays and Thursdays I’m still volunteering at Shema. One thing I’d looked forward to in coming to Israel was the hope of receiving an ISL name sign. So far that has not happened, as the Haifa deaf community is quite drastically different from the American Deaf community I’ve been happy to be a part of in the last decade. I am just now starting to make friends in the Tel Aviv Deaf community, so we’ll see what becomes of that in the next few months…but, I have received a few new spoken names since arriving here. My friend from Japan and my friend from France both call me ChRIStina (which I found quite humorous as I had been joking with my sister about changing my name to that about a week before coming here); my friend from Slovakia added the Slovak diminutive ending and called me Christinka; in Hebrew class, the professor distractedly wrote a Kaf instead of a Nun by accident when writing my name on the board for a project, so in class we all started calling me Christeeka; and this Sunday, after asking me how to spell my name and writing it down, one of my Shema students sounded it out and called across the room to me: “Cartisina! Caritisina!”. Apparently in the way I’d chosen to spell it in Hebrew, the first five letters spelled the word for “Ticket”, so that’s how she pronounced the first two syllables. Love it!

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Purim is coming up, and Valentine’s Day just passed, and Tu Bishvat occurred during my apparent, unplanned blogging sabbatical. Tu Bishvat is similar to our Earth Day, except it’s all about trees. It is the tree’s birthday, and on it, you eat dried fruit and sing nature songs, and plant trees. Cool, huh? It is celebrated on the 15^th of the Jewish month of Shevat. In Hebrew, you can write the numbers by using letters, like “A” would be 1, “B” would be 2, “AB” would be 12…sort of like that. So, the first word of the holiday “Tu” comes from how you would write “15” using letters. “B-” is like saying “of”, so: Tu Bishvat = The 15^th of the month of Shevat. I was at Shema on Valentine’s Day, and sad to see that it is not celebrated here in schools at all like it is back home. I told the other volunteers that when I was a kid, we would bring Valentine’s Day cards to everyone in class, and that I often dress in red or pink and take little bags of candy or brownies around on Valentine’s Day every year and hand them out to professors, baristas, train conductors, etc. in my life, but this year I just slacked off. They laughed good naturedly and then we talked about how different holidays are in the states and here. Not the different holidays that are celebrated, but how in the USA, we really get into it all, with decorations, cards, special clothes, music, parties, etc., and how we adopt holidays from all over the world (I mentioned wearing green on St. Patrick’s Day, and pinching and whatnot, and one guy looked at me puzzled, “Isn’t that an Irish holiday?”). I am excited about Purim. One of my friends and I have been discussing our costumes and are thinking about going as one of the girls that the kind didn’t choose, ha, with fake warts and fun hairdos, and whatnot…nirei (“we’ll see”). ;-)

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A few weeks ago, all the Fulbrighters got together and we each took about 15 minutes to share about our projects and what else we’ve been doing since arriving. It was unspeakably nice to hear about each person’s project in a clear, concise, powerpoint-supported way, and to hear about each of our personal experiences in Israel. We chat each time we get together, but to have a structured presentation and 15 minutes for each was very helpful in aiding my brain to form a better picture of what each person is doing. And being a visual learner, the pictures and diagrams were invaluable. :)

Last week they took us on a two-day tour up to the Galilee area. We visited Nazareth and met with the assistant to the mayor, who shared with us about the socio-political situation in his city and beyond, then over to a kibbutz for lunch, and (oh dear, I’ve forgotten the order of things, anyway) to Tiberias for the night.

On the way to the kibbutz, our bus had to stop a ways before a traffic circle, as the police had blocked the road. Apparently there was a suspicious container of some sort (thermos?) on the island in the middle of the traffic circle. We watched as one, then another, and then increasing numbers of neighbors and school children came out to watch, from a safe distance away. An official van pulled up and armored men got out with their special equipment. We could not really see anything from where we were, but be assured many stories were being shared on the bus of similar experiences. Eventually we saw the police moving people to viewpoints further away and then there was a very loud, short POP! Apparently standard practice in such circumstances is to safely enclose the object of concern and then blow it up. Sure. That’s what I’d do. :-) They cleaned it up, removed the roadblock, and we went to lunch.

I have a friend coming to visit me starting Saturday for a week and a half. Her parents were expressing concern about safety here, especially with the, um, excitement going on in Egypt. I assured her it’s fine. The next day, on the bus watching this go down, I wanted to email her again and say, “See? They’ve got it covered.” ;-)

On our trip we visited a second kibbutz where a man shared with us some of his life’s musical journey through a room filled with percussion instruments – one that we’d never seen before, from Switzerland. It sounded very similar to the steel drums I often enjoy played by street performers, but it looked like a flying saucer with dents, and was small enough to carry under one arm.

The next day they took us to a settlement formed by immigrants from the Caucasus region (between the Caspian and Black Sea). It was a wonderful tour, and they shared with us some of their food, traditions, dance, language, and lifestyles, that they have brought from home and adapted to life in Israel. Through history they have been regarded as great warriors, and now make up a large majority of the IDF.

One of the languages they shared about has many words that are derived from onomatopoeia, which was interesting to parallel to ASL and ISL’s use of iconicity for much of their lexicon. And their engagement tradition was a topic of some fun discussion amongst us afterward. The to-be engaged woman awaits her to-be fiancé on her parents’ porch. When the man rides by on his horse, she either turns her face downward, in rejection, or lifts her hand up to him. He takes her hand and pulls her up on the horse, and they race to the town’s boundaries while her family and the other men of the village chase them, shouting and whatnot. They call it, “Bride Abduction” or something, but they assured us it is not violent or anything, just a tradition, for fun. Once the couple rides beyond the city boundaries, they are engaged. Then they return to her parents’ house for the engagement party!

Most of our discussion centered on wondering how difficult it is to be pulled up on a horse in motion. Does one practice this art in secret when one starts dating a man seriously? Does she ever bring a stool out onto the porch to make the jump easier? Does she ever reach up two hands? Or does that perhaps come across too needy? Does she practice pull-ups inside, in preparation for her engagement day? Oh, the logistics of getting married. ;-)

After the Caucasian village, we visited a Druze village for a late lunch, and then made our way back to Haifa. The others continued on to Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, and us Haifa-ians head home to begin our catch-up from the delightful two days off.

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My friend from DC arrives Saturday morning. It is her first time to Israel, so we will be fitting in as much as we can in her short time here, and I am eagerly looking forward to showing her around, and to the good conversations and belly-splitting-ouch-my-face-hurts-stop-making-me-laugh times that we always have together. I have made some good friends here, but there is certainly something about being with someone who has known you longer than six months that will be pleasant.

Christmas 2010

Christmas is this weekend, but since many students will be headed to other towns for it, we had our international school party last night (and actually have all be having various preparatory parties for a week—cookie making parties, gingerbread house building parties, etc.) I have been surprised at the number of stores I’ve seen with Christmas decorations (not many, I mean, we’re talking half a dozen or so, but more than I expected).

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Well, I began writing this post a few days ago, apparently. It is now Christmas evening. :) My roommate and I just returned from an evening of cookies, punch, and singing Christmas carols in Hebrew, and I thought I’d write something up while she’s on the phone with her family in the states, then we’ll watch “White Christmas” and eat some more yumminess. :)

Last night one of my friends hosted a Christmas Eve party with her roommates. There were about a dozen of us, and I think less than half of us have ever celebrated Christmas before. It was so much fun sharing the traditions, stories, songs, and movies. We had a potluck dinner that was a great success, played “Dirty Santa”, what I’ve always called “White Elephant”—where you steal one another’s presents, sang every carol we could think of—including all twelve versus of the 12 Days of Christmas, and watched Elf as we made further dents in the multitude of desserts filling the tables.

Most guests left around 1am after opening the presents beneath Charlie Brown Christmas tree (we told my friend’s Israeli roommates that while one can open White Elephant gifts at any Christmas party, regardless of the day, you may not open the presents from beneath the tree until Christmas, proper. I think it as 12:01am when they ran to the tree ;-)). My friend and I moved into her room and had a slumber party, continuing with “White Christmas”, which I promptly fell asleep to, waking up halfway through during the Choreography song, with some deep thought coming out of my mouth that I’d created in my dream. My friend looked at me and laughed, “What??”. I repeated myself, and she laughed again and told me I’d been asleep for a good half hour. I smiled, wished her a Merry Christmas, and rolled back over.

This morning I donned the Christmas outfit I’d chosen for the day and caught the bus down to my kehila for our weekly Sabbath morning service. The pageant was so unique from any I’ve seen in the states: a comedy about three Israelis searching for the Messiah, discussing what criteria to use in evaluating each candidate, and then discussing who should be considered. I had moved from my seat to videotape it, and missed much of the interpretation, so I didn’t get all the details, but there was clearly one character portrayed as Ultra-Orthodox, and another as a very contemporary, ditsy young girl, and then the middle one seemed to be a run-of-the-mill Israeli. They considered a famous sports figure, a military giant, the first Prime Minister of Israel, a movie star, all to no avail. None of them fit the prophecies foretold in the Tanak (Old Testament: Law, Prophets, and Writings). Finally the three were very tired and ordered some refreshments. The waiter who brought them heard them talking and offered another candidate to compare with the prophecies. She explained that she is Jewish, and based on the Tanak has come to believe that Yeshua of Natsaret is the foretold one to come, and that it is not a matter of a committee deliberating and then telling everyone the verdict, but that it is something for each individual to seek out and decide for him or herself. Of course it was all wrapped up with some closing songs. Bravo!

After service we head over to a festival that Haifa holds every weekend in December called HaHag Shel HaHagim, Festival of Festivals, or Holiday Festival. It is a festival celebrating all the winter holidays and there is all kinds of yummy foods, crafts, performers, and (very unlike anything I’d expected) tables selling products you might find at a flee market or Target—ironing boards, televisions, pots and pans…we admired the various art, and I bought a food I’d seen before but not yet eaten—kind of like a crepe with the closest thing here to sour cream, and this green spice that people here love, with a little olive oil, all wrapped up for easy mobile eating. Delectable. And we found a new product for washing your clothes in a more environmentally friendly way: The Eco-Ball, the detergent free laundry ball. Instead of detergent, it uses mineral stone thingies…it’s supposed to be good for up to a thousand loads and cost 149 shekels…about $50. My roommate and I split the cost and thought it’s worth a try to save on detergent and pollute less! We’ll see how it goes.

Then it was home for some R&R before heading up the street to another party where the Christmas story was read with songs interjected each few verses—this time tunes I am very familiar with, and Hebrew on the screen I tried to read fast enough to sing along. So much fun!

Later I will Skype with my family a bit, and then tomorrow wake early to Skype with the extended family when they gather in their evening which will be my morning, and then my friend and I will head down to Jerusalem. She is leaving Israel in two weeks and wants one more day in her favorite city in the country. :-)