Ash Wednesday

For the beginning of the Lenten season in the Holiest City, I wanted to kick things off right -- I wanted to attend Eucharist at Dormition Abbey, one of the Christian churches near my neighborhood and one less likely to be overrun by tourists (making your way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre these days is nigh impossible)

Being my usual self I was running late that morning and only left the German Colony at 9:45am, attempting to make 10 am mass at the Abbey.  I scrambled in the heat of that morning down through the gardens of Yemin Moshe, past Sultan Pool (long since dried up) and jogged up the steep slopes of Mount Zion, arriving at the top just in time to hear the steeple bells ring out the hour.

I entered the cool, sacred space of the Abbey at precisely 10 am, sweating and out of breath and... completely alone.

I am not in the least surprised by this. After all, it is my fate to have bad timing in all of life's aspects; even when I do manage to be punctual to some event -- a rare occasion indeed -- something else inevitably goes wildly amiss: I find I'm in the wrong classroom or standing on the wrong platform or that the thing happened yesterday.  This was the correct building, though... so some other mistake.  Oh, Elise.

I slumped into a small wooden chair in the front row and caught my breath.   Once I caught it, I decided to hold my own little service since I'd missed the real one, complete with chant-singing.  Of course, the moment I finished singing I turned around to find one of the Benedictine brothers standing there complete with brown wool tunic, leather belt and other monkish finery, staring at me as if to say, "Was im Namen des Heiligen Vaters ist hier passiert?"

I struggled in my out-of-practice German and asked der Bruder when the Ash Wednesday service had taken place.  He answered me in English (not a sign of ringing endorsement for my German skills), saying that the service had been at 7:15 that morning.

Oops. 

I thanked him as he swished silently around some corner, disappearing whence he came, and took some time to be silent.  Here is the front of the Abbey:

Icon in the Abbey, courtesy of Jerusalem Shots

Thus began my Lenten journey in Jerusalem.  More anon!

Love,

Elise

When It Rains, It Purims

Purim is a wild holiday.  Fireworks, candy, costumes everywhere, and tremendous amounts of dancing to loud, bass-bumping Israeli pop music until the wee hours of the morning (we're talking  4 am on three consecutive nights in my neighborhood, people).  Definitely a unique experience.

I've participated to some degree, in that I went to a costume dance party with my choir friends, and have been eating a lot of candy.  Which I typically do -- but this time it's free, and Jewish. I may or may not have made myself sick just now, in my office, as a professional grown-up scholar, by eating an entire family-sized box of watermelon-flavored squishy sugar things my roommate gave me this morning. They were delicious - but in a you-want-to-crawl-under-a-table-and-die-after-eating-them kind of way.

Purim is like Jewish Halloween, which is very strange to anyone familiar with the historical events commemorated by the celebration:  On this day several millennia ago, the Persian Jews were saved from utter annihilation by the beauty and wiles of one Queen Esther.  So they dress up in neon wigs and get drunk on imported beer?  Well, maybe it's a bit like St Patrick's day in that way.  (By the way, happy That Holiday to you folks at home! Not that anyone I know really celebrates it all that much...we being descendants of the subtler German/Dutch folk)

I think the celebration yesterday and today has been especially hearty (the official day of Purim was Sunday for everyone else, but in Jerusalem it is celebrated a day later for some unfathomable diplomatic reason having to do with which cities have walls and which don't. In fact, I think someone tried to explain it to me at the aforementioned party, but while he was talking the DJ put on a Jackson 5 track and I may or may not have abruptly abandoned him mid-sentence for the dance floor because, well, Jackson 5!)

Anywho, the partying has been all the more rambunctious because it's been pouring rain here for the last week but stopped in time for celebration.  This is very good news in a parched land, especially since winter was as dry as Ezekiel's bones (aside from the freak blizzard in December).  Now the sun has come out and things are verdant, buzzing and blooming.  I even picked a lemon off of an overhanging tree on Saturday (on Shabbat! I picked fruit on Shabbat!) and am quickly adjusting to the rare treat of seeing ripened fruits (mostly citruses) hiding in branches as I wander through streets and alleys.

I promised beach pictures a while back, as well as tales of a drive through the West Bank.  I post them below -- I hitched a ride with friends of a friend to Tel Aviv on March 1st and spent a glorious day in the sun on the beach, and drinking in the culture of Tel Aviv.  On the way back we drove past Ramallah and other major cities in the West Bank; it was a jolt at first to realize where we were, and to associate my memories of battles, bombings, political, economic and social upheaval -- with these wee Palestinian cities.  Because as you will see from my pictures (taken out the car window, alas), they are just cities: regular little towns - villages even - that are only different in subtle ways of architecture from Jewish homesteads.  People live and eat and work in these cities, and carry on life as best thye can for their families. And underlying it all is an enormous struggle against a biased - some of my secular friends even call it a racist - government.

But more on all that later (and boy, do I have more -- I've at last made a friend who has significant economic/social dealings with Palestinians, and the stories she has told me already....yofi ("whoa").    Especially stay tuned for the Inside Scoop regarding the Soda Stream controversy.

That's all the prose for now.  Sending you all very warm wishes, and hoping your winter ends soon...

Northern Tel Aviv

looking West out onto the Mediterranean 

I read about Entanglement. And then I built a sand castle. All the little children on the beach stared at me --  I am pretty sure it was because they were wondering how I was able to craft such smooth battlements using naught but my fingers. 

Palestinian village in the West Bank -- note housing is more angular with square windows, in Arabic style.  Mosque minaret dominates landscape, as do the enormous barbed wire fences surrounding the city. 

Ramallah, from the Israeli side of the fence. Notice the acres of fencing, metal obstacles, barracks, guard towers and search light posts between us and the city.

The border fence. Slightly more intimidating than the one we have, don't you think?
And many, many more soldiers with guns.

You Probably Weren't Even Aware...

...But there's been some intense bombing going on in south Israel.  You can read about it in the New York Times here.


Don't be alarmed for my sake -- Jerusalemites haven't even really noticed, owing to several days of extremely rare thunderstorms and rain.

The Haredim Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks

So THIS happened today just a mile or so from campus. (To clarify, I don't actually have a position on this political matter despite what the post title says.  It's just my wont to appropriate Shakespearean quotes whenever possible. Because, yay Shakespeare!)

I missed the major traffic issues involved, but nevertheless could hear through my office window the 300,000 + ultra-orthodox protesters shouting and cheering and yelling slogans and prayers.  It was...eerie.  As I sat waiting for the bus home, I closed my eyes and imagined when "Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho" -- where I was Jericho,  hearing the mighty host of Israelis as they banged and shouted to send the walls crumbling down.  Lest one think the means of victory in this ancient story mere hyperbole, after hearing that din today I invite you to reconsider the possible truth in it.

Woo-eee!


Next post, including photos: my day at the beach in Tel Aviv -- including a drive through the West Bank (grandparents note: I lived to tell the tale!)

Until then, enjoy the following excellent, appropriately-themed music video: