I knew going into the JCA trip that I would have an amazing experience in Israel and I also knew that the nature of my experience was not something I could have foreseen. Now, having spent nearly two weeks in Tel Aviv, Haifa and Jerusalem and their neighboring regions, I can say that my humility regarding what I could expect was appropriate.
From my first afternoon in Israel I tried to concentrate on learning, absorbing my surroundings. While I have lived and travelled in Europe and other parts of the world, Israel proved to be profoundly more complex and culturally rewarding than any destination it has been my privilege to visit. The peoples, religions, cultures and practices were myriad and unique. I was exposed to the politics and faiths of Arab peoples, Westerners, Christians, Muslims, and of course Jews from all walks of life.
One particular memory that will stay with me was a ride past the west bank on our way to Jerusalem. We had just passed a portion of the security wall and a guard tower and a bus of Orthodox Jews passed us on the highway. As it passed a young girl smiled brightly and waved to us. I was struck by the complexity of that moment. In an instant, I became aware of the danger of that region, the profile of the conflict from an international perspective, and the simple humanity of the citizens of Israel.
I intended to visit Israel to observe and experience in some small way the politics of the country but came away with a larger picture of lifestyles, both secular and religious. Out trip was packed with insightful speakers, amazing sights, and strong opinions. To be honest I fear that I still am grappling with some our collective experiences in Israel, which in time I will digest after further thought. Without a doubt this trip was an enormous treat for me and my mother (my travelling companion) and taught me much about a part of the world I have spent a lot of time thinking about over the course of the past ten years. It was a life changing experience.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Reflections on the trip by Elizabeth Souza
I am still savoring and reflecting upon the many experiences I had on my recent trip to Israel, having returned just last week. It’s difficult to isolate the most meaningful, given the plethora of talks and tours our JCA group was privileged to have during a jam-packed nine days. That said, I will try…
Our first three days in Tel Aviv introduced me to a bustling, modern city celebrating its centenary this year. Though I wouldn’t characterize it as a pretty city, its long, beautiful beach struck me as so much a part of its identity, yet not in a Miami Beach way. In Tel Aviv, it wasn’t just tourists filling the beach mid-day; folks seemed to take time off from work to spend time there, old and young alike playing serious games of paddle ball along the shore.
While there, we met Eran Baruch of Bina, located in the city’s impoverished southern district, and learned of that secular organization’s attempts to study the Talmud and apply its teachings to a social justice agenda. I was struck by parallels to Christian liberation theology in Latin America, and suspect Bina encounters similar stresses to Orthodox Judaism as LT has to Catholic orthodoxy.
One of the highlights of our stay was the walk through old Jaffa guided by two young Israeli men, one Arab, the other Jew. It was a rare opportunity to learn the different narratives two people brought to historical events, evoking Rashomon comparisons wherein each person has a distinct account of the same occurrence. That tour sparked my deeper comprehension of the challenges Israel and its neighbors confront as they struggle toward rapprochement.
That, more than anything else, was the greatest lesson I learned from this trip. Whether listening to social historian Paul Liptz discussing the class structure of contemporary Israeli society, dining with Moshe Ma’oz and animatedly discussing politics, discussing current affairs with author Hillel Halkin, or driving by the Security Barrier en route Jerusalem, I could not escape the ways in which securing peace remains an ever present concern and challenge. (Paradoxically, scholar Daniel Rossing of Jerusalem’s Center for Jewish-Christian relations offered as one model the uneasy balance of power among six different Christian religions occupying the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.)
Yet I was also struck by the vibrance and energy of the country. How could I not be? Jerusalem’s stew of religions, in that golden, ancient setting, was a vivid contrast to Tel Aviv’s austere and secular modernity. The collision of religions could not be escaped, and our itinerary brought us into direct contact with diverse factions, from a fiery Syrian Catholic modern day mystic to a benevolent Sufi sheikh.
The arts, as we learned through meetings with authors and visual artists, trips to museums and film centers, are thriving. Young soldiers, males and females, are ever present. Families were everywhere, young boys’ peyos clearly following their religious fathers’ models. One tiny drama queen, three years old at most, threw herself face down on the floor, sobbing, when her orthodox father disappeared behind a door to the hotel’s kitchen. Her darling older sister tried to lift her up and wordlessly console her, the tot instantly comforted when her father returned and scooped her up. This country will not be held back. Life goes on.
Our first three days in Tel Aviv introduced me to a bustling, modern city celebrating its centenary this year. Though I wouldn’t characterize it as a pretty city, its long, beautiful beach struck me as so much a part of its identity, yet not in a Miami Beach way. In Tel Aviv, it wasn’t just tourists filling the beach mid-day; folks seemed to take time off from work to spend time there, old and young alike playing serious games of paddle ball along the shore.
While there, we met Eran Baruch of Bina, located in the city’s impoverished southern district, and learned of that secular organization’s attempts to study the Talmud and apply its teachings to a social justice agenda. I was struck by parallels to Christian liberation theology in Latin America, and suspect Bina encounters similar stresses to Orthodox Judaism as LT has to Catholic orthodoxy.
One of the highlights of our stay was the walk through old Jaffa guided by two young Israeli men, one Arab, the other Jew. It was a rare opportunity to learn the different narratives two people brought to historical events, evoking Rashomon comparisons wherein each person has a distinct account of the same occurrence. That tour sparked my deeper comprehension of the challenges Israel and its neighbors confront as they struggle toward rapprochement.
That, more than anything else, was the greatest lesson I learned from this trip. Whether listening to social historian Paul Liptz discussing the class structure of contemporary Israeli society, dining with Moshe Ma’oz and animatedly discussing politics, discussing current affairs with author Hillel Halkin, or driving by the Security Barrier en route Jerusalem, I could not escape the ways in which securing peace remains an ever present concern and challenge. (Paradoxically, scholar Daniel Rossing of Jerusalem’s Center for Jewish-Christian relations offered as one model the uneasy balance of power among six different Christian religions occupying the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.)
Yet I was also struck by the vibrance and energy of the country. How could I not be? Jerusalem’s stew of religions, in that golden, ancient setting, was a vivid contrast to Tel Aviv’s austere and secular modernity. The collision of religions could not be escaped, and our itinerary brought us into direct contact with diverse factions, from a fiery Syrian Catholic modern day mystic to a benevolent Sufi sheikh.
The arts, as we learned through meetings with authors and visual artists, trips to museums and film centers, are thriving. Young soldiers, males and females, are ever present. Families were everywhere, young boys’ peyos clearly following their religious fathers’ models. One tiny drama queen, three years old at most, threw herself face down on the floor, sobbing, when her orthodox father disappeared behind a door to the hotel’s kitchen. Her darling older sister tried to lift her up and wordlessly console her, the tot instantly comforted when her father returned and scooped her up. This country will not be held back. Life goes on.
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Jerusalem Syndrome: Shopping -- from Amy Mittelman
The Jerusalem Syndrome: Shopping
Jerusalem 2009
On our tour we went at a pretty fast pace. Lee, our amazing tour guide, kept us in line. Because we had so many appointments, leisurely strolling through a market was not often an option.
On the last day, the tour was officially over and we did not have to leave for the airport until 8:30 p.m. Aaron and I walked to the old city, first going through an artist colony. In those shops the wares were fairly expensive and we were able to restrain ourselves. When we got to the Arab shuk, (market), it was a different story. Everything was so colorful and looked so nice. With no time limit, it became almost hypnotic. Eventually, after we bought a game table and had tea in an Arab shop, I realized we had to leave or we would keep shopping. Maybe Lee moving us along was not such a bad idea.
The Jerusalem Syndrome is a phenomena that occurs when someone comes to the city and starts believing that they are some kind of messiah, prophet, or religious leader. The cure is to leave Jerusalem.
The Jerusalem Syndrome: Shopping
Lee implores, cajoles, commands
This way, this way through the shuk
We walk quickly
Looking straight
Our eyes sometimes stray
No stopping
No shopping
We complain
We want to shop
It is our right
Today, no Lee
No directions
No instructions
Plenty of time
The shuk is open and inviting
We are pulled in and in
So entrancing
So appealing
Come in and see my shop
Just for a minute
We cannot stop
We need
Or at least want everything
If we do not stop now
We never will.
www.amymittelman.com/musings
Steps and Stones (from Amy Mittelman)
Steps and Stones
This is another poem I wrote while in Israel. The session at Elul unleashed a creative spurt that is very interesting.
A few days later we met with David Ehrlich, an excellent writer of short stories. He spent over an hour with us, talking about his writing and the creative process. He said that sometimes ideas are in his mind or in the air and they float by. This is similar to what I have been feeling lately.
Jerusalem is a very different and interesting city. All the facades, by law, have to look the same, which is a beige Jerusalem stone. The Old City is very winding and up and down, but other parts of the city are as well. Jerusalem perches on a mountain with hills and valleys around it. You are always going up or down, often on paved or cobble-stoned paths.
Another aspect of Jerusalem is the intense tourism since so many different people and faiths feel the city belongs to them. When ever I travel overseas I like to buy things that are actually made in that country. Of course in many parts of the world the tourist items are made in China.
Steps and Stones
Everything in Jerusalem is
Steps and stones
Steps and stones
Up and Down
Up and Down
Buy/Save
Spend/Don’t Waste
Made here
Made there
Jerusalem 2009
www.amymittelman.com/musings
Beer and Wine in Israel -- More from Amy Mittelman
Beer and Wine in Israel
In my post about Jewish Beer and Brewing I discussed Israeli and Palestinian beer. While in Israel, I had the opportunity to taste both Goldstar and Macabee. Goldstar is a medium color lager with a decent flavor and a small hoppy taste. Maccabee was pretty bad, on par with Bud or Pabst. My husband had Nesher Malt, which is a non-alcoholic beer which has been produced since 1935.
Someone who was on our trip had Dancing Camel beer on tap and said it was very good. Their website has several different beers, some with funny names in the style of Shmaltz Brewing and He’Brew. The food scene in Israel is so amazing that I think it is just a matter of time before Israel has a thriving micro-brewery industry.
We also had a tour at the Carmel Winery in Zikhron Ya’akov. Most American Jews grow up drinking Manishevitz at Passover and think that is the extent of Jewish Kosher wine. The company dates back to 1882,Baron Edmund de Rothschild, owner of Chateau Lafite, helped established it.
Unlike Manishevitz, Carmel’s fine wines are not pasteurized which allows them to have a better flavor. The wine we tasted was very good and our tour guide was an amazing, extremely stylish woman, originally from Morocco. Unfortunately I can’t remember her name but I do have some pictures.
Wine Barrels
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
[Contributed by trip member Amy Mittelman, and cross-posted at amymittelman.com./musings]
Justina
June 2nd, 2009We got back from our trip to Israel on Thursday May 28 after being up for about 26 hours. We had a wonderful time but it has taken a few days to decompress and resume my everyday life. For one thing the weather was fabulous and the plants and flowers were so beautiful. It is not quite as pretty here at home. I plan to post a few entries about the trip, hopefully with pictures. Some will be about beer and alcohol while others will just be about the experiences I had while there.
One afternoon we walked on the rooftops of the Old City of Jerusalem and looked at churches and other buildings. We also went into some of them. One place we visited was the Syrian Church. A woman named Justinia is in charge. She was from Iraq and had been a math teacher. To say she was strict would be an understatement. She made clear that we were to sit properly and not cross our legs. Justina was also devout. She speaks English but prays in Aramaic which was the street language of Jews and early Christians. She spoke to us about a miracle that had occurred at her church and then sang the Lord’s Prayer and Psalm 150, the final psalm, both in Aramaic.
The next day we had a teaching about Jerusalem and its many varied meanings for different people. Our teacher, Yardena, was excellent and she had us each write something about Jerusalem. I wrote the following poem. I haven’t written a poem in probably twenty-five years.
Syrian Church Jerusalem 2009
At first Justina seems strange
Even crazy and very strict
But as she talks
She almost glows
Exuding her faith and certainty
When she sings
She is whole and holy.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
From back in Amherst, more thoughts on the sacred practice of translation
It's always a little risky to write while jet-lagged, but I want to add some thoughts to my last posting.
We customarily refer wistfully to all that is lost in translation. Jewish text in Hebrew carries an energetic potential like a benign and sacred nuclear fusion which is lost when the same text is rendered into another language. We can mourn the loss of the multi-dimensionality of the Hebrew text. It's a mistake, though, to judge the merits of translation on the basis of this one equation, because we do not only lose through translation, we gain.
As religious and spiritual people -- and I would affirm this for all peoples -- we Jews gain dramatically and substantially through translation. And this truth needs to be upheld and celebrated. When we translate thought from one expressive medium to the next, even translate a thought or practice from one religious context into the language of another, there is a net gain. We illuminate new dimensions of wisdom, reveal or strike new sparks of the Divine.
On the JCA trip, we witnessed countless miracles of creation achieved through the process of translation. According to Webster, to translate is "to bear, remove, or change from one place, state, form, or appearance to another." Translators, artists, religious teachers are of imagination all compact. Boundaries of form have to be crossed in the process; but new boundaries are set as a result. Touring Israel, a new land with disputed, evolving, recent and ancient borders, we witnessed all manner of freshly formed and freshly revealed identities and truths.
In Shakespeare's The Winters Tale, one character responds to wondrous events with these words: "Who would be thence that has the benefit of access? every wink of an eye some new grace will be born: our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge."
In our liturgy, we affirm that God "renews each day the deeds of creation." On this trip we had the benefit of access, it felt (exhaustingly!) as if for 10 days we didn't blink, and our presence in Israel translated directly to our increased knowledge. Israel presents a unique vantage point from which to witness the renewal of the sacred process of creation.
Baruch atah/Beruchah at '' , mekor kol ha'omanut.
Blessed are You God, the Source of All Art.
We customarily refer wistfully to all that is lost in translation. Jewish text in Hebrew carries an energetic potential like a benign and sacred nuclear fusion which is lost when the same text is rendered into another language. We can mourn the loss of the multi-dimensionality of the Hebrew text. It's a mistake, though, to judge the merits of translation on the basis of this one equation, because we do not only lose through translation, we gain.
As religious and spiritual people -- and I would affirm this for all peoples -- we Jews gain dramatically and substantially through translation. And this truth needs to be upheld and celebrated. When we translate thought from one expressive medium to the next, even translate a thought or practice from one religious context into the language of another, there is a net gain. We illuminate new dimensions of wisdom, reveal or strike new sparks of the Divine.
On the JCA trip, we witnessed countless miracles of creation achieved through the process of translation. According to Webster, to translate is "to bear, remove, or change from one place, state, form, or appearance to another." Translators, artists, religious teachers are of imagination all compact. Boundaries of form have to be crossed in the process; but new boundaries are set as a result. Touring Israel, a new land with disputed, evolving, recent and ancient borders, we witnessed all manner of freshly formed and freshly revealed identities and truths.
In Shakespeare's The Winters Tale, one character responds to wondrous events with these words: "Who would be thence that has the benefit of access? every wink of an eye some new grace will be born: our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge."
In our liturgy, we affirm that God "renews each day the deeds of creation." On this trip we had the benefit of access, it felt (exhaustingly!) as if for 10 days we didn't blink, and our presence in Israel translated directly to our increased knowledge. Israel presents a unique vantage point from which to witness the renewal of the sacred process of creation.
Baruch atah/Beruchah at '' , mekor kol ha'omanut.
Blessed are You God, the Source of All Art.
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