GREAT, just GREAT

This past Shabbat, Rafi and I walked the brisk distance to the GREAT Synagogue (the only link with a decent picture on Google) in the center of Jerusalem. We have a friend in the מקהלה / makelah / choir, and we wanted to see him in action. Here is what happened in our GREAT Shabbat experience.

1. The balcony was WARM. This was GREATly increased by the hot air (and there is plenty coming from the cantor and the choir, except for Dan, who is GREAT), floating to the GREAT balcony above the GREAT men's floor.
2. Bar Mitzvah: A kid had his Bar Mitzvah, and his various female relatives pelted the kid with GREAT candy from the balcony, after his Torah reading in the mid-room Torah-reading בימה / bimah / stage. Hearing hard candy hit marble and lightbulbs? You guessed it: GREAT!
3. The Bar Mitzvah kid's little brother was also with his candy-throwing relatives, which gave him a great point of view from which to see his dad and brother in action. He called out, in a GREAT, high-pitched baby voice, quite often during the service: "Abba! Abba! Abba! (Dad!)" Pretty much the entire service. He thinks his dad is GREAT!
4. Apparently, one of the Gabbaiim (the people, or men in an Orthodox shul, who facilitate the service participants, Torah readers, etc.), whenever he heard a kid in the balcony (like the one in #3), he'd put on a not-so-GREAT face, point his finger at the balcony, and made a motion, similar to "get that stupid child out of my opera." (Because going to the GREAT Synagogue is like going to an opera performance.) Rafi is my source for this. I had a great view of the whole building, but not such a close-up of the activity around the בימה / bimah / stage.
5. Cantor. Rafi seems to think that the GREAT Synagogue is the cantorial acme of the universe. But really, the cantor and the choir made the whole experience not unlike my home shul, Temple Beth Am in Margate, FL, in the days of our old cantor. If I hadn't been in a balcony and absolutely stewing in the heat, I could've closed my eyes and imagined myself at a Temple Beth Am GREAT choir Shabbat, circa 1997.
6. Choir. All jokes aside, Dan and the rest were...oh, fine...GREAT!
7. Kiddush. After shul, there's a GREAT kiddush with cholent, although I stuck to Diet Coke and cake. I had a 20-second interaction with a frum (religious) guy, who seemed to be trying to get around me to get cake. He started "flirting" with me (just barely). It can be intuited from this interaction that he flirted with me because I wasn't wearing a hat (which marks me with the scarlet "S" for "Single."). Rafi found this particularly GREAT.

After the kiddush, we walked to the King Solomon Hotel to have lunch with the Davidson trip group (not as GREAT as last year's trip, but pretty GREAT all the same.). We played Taboo in the lobby until lunch. Funny Taboo moments ensued: Rafi didn't get the cue words I used for "foxy" and I got angry when he called me a "poodle" instead. Rafi thinks the word "ring" is an onomatopoeia. British Taboo cards have words like "Bogey" on them. Also, my professor and his wife seemed to enjoy appearances of my dirty mind that was so popular on last year's trip. After Taboo, we had lunch, I spoke with my Assistant Dean for about an hour about Hebrew at JTS, and then Rafi and I ended up hanging around with friends there for the rest of the afternoon, until Shabbat was over.

Rafi and I took a short, GREAT walk to the Inbal hotel (about 5 minutes from one hotel to the other), to attend a Rabbinical School Admissions Deans' Oneg. I like being a significant other -- the perk of dessert at the Inbal being a GREAT one. I even get to go to the Rebbitzins' book club. (Tonight. Suite Francaise. Be there or be "S" for "Single".)

All in all, it was a really GREAT Shabbat.

My birthday and a birth day!

"You're breaking hearts,
And you're breaking guitars,
Today's your birthday,
And you don't even know how old you are."
-Happy Birthday Ralph, AAHP

Last Friday was my birthday, and indeed, I couldn't forget that it was my 26th, since my campers at Darom in 2006 nicknamed me "S-B-B is O-L-D". I had a great time baking, cooking and preparing my apartment to have a big Shabbat dinner and a bigger oneg Shabbat. When Sarah arrived, as my lovely Davidson bed buddy for the weekend, we wandered on Emek to the ATM and through the shuk at Beit Sefer Adam where I managed NOT to buy anything! (Except for lunch).

Before dinner, we attended tefillot at Shira Chadasha, housed at the Shalom Hartmann Institute while they're doing renovations on their Emek Refaim building, I had a chance to say hi and get tons of "happy birthdays" from everybody I know. Then, we collected the group of diners, and walked back to my apartment.

Sadly, the laws of Shabbat prevented me from taking pictures at the event, but here's a little summary of the fun! Over the course of the evening, there were people talking in German, French, English and Hebrew, and I had a conversation with Spanish, French and Italian words as Guillame (from ulpan) and I tried to figure out the correct way to pronounce "Sangria." (My joking answer: "Fruit salad".)

All of my worrying about not having enough [insert food or drink item here] to serve my guests, I was amazed at the amount of food when we set it on the table. Everybody brought more, mainly to drink, but also to eat. Dinner was terrific, and at about 10PM, people started showing up for the oneg. Friends from ulpan talked with visiting Davidson students, while enjoying what I understand is some very fine scotch, while a visiting Davidson/Rabbinical student made a bid for my apartment. There were people from Texas, Japan, France, Israel, New Jersey, Canada, and New York, all in my little apartment in the German Colony.

I spent most of the 28th waiting for my nephew to be born, as I figured it'd be pretty neat to have a twin nephew. Alas, that was not to be. But yesterday was his birth day, and I do know how old he is -- less than a DAY OLD! Pictures will be coming soon, but I'd just like to announce that my 10-lb nephew (that's about 5 kilo, or more than 2times the amount of rugelach I bought in Thursday) was born last night in Washington, DC.

And if that doesn't say happy new year and happy birthday, then I don't know what does!

Chiloni in Dati Clothing

From the second I checked through security at JFK with a cadre of ultra-Orthodox Jews, easily identified by their white shirts, black suits and coats, and black hats, I realized how different this year in Israel was going to be for me. After years of being the most religious girl around…

Elementary school = The girl who misses school for Jewish holidays.
Middle school = The girl with 3 bar/bat mitzvahs per weekend.
High school = The “Orthodox girl” / USY nerd.
College = The girl who leads services / “This one time, at USY on Wheels camp.”
Penguin = The girl who worked part-time during the Jewish holidays (all of October) / The girl that nearly died from something non-Kosher.
JTS = Less religious than the rabbinical students, but dating one anyway.

…I was going to be seen as secular. Me? Secular? Who are we kidding?? Yes, I wear tank tops. Yes, I read Torah. But I READ TORAH, keep kosher (hot dairy, as per the Conservative movement) and I study to be a Jewish educator. I work very hard to bring Jewish experiences to learners of all ages. I identify almost exclusively in my Judaism. I study the Bible and Skills for Teaching. I am working on Israel education in the Diaspora. I am a Jew, and a supporter of the state of Israel.

This weekend, my roommate Allison (hello, loyal, Allison-related readers) and I spent Shabbat with my cousins (Dad’s first cousin and his wife, to be exact) in the Jerusalem neighborhood of Har Nof (literally, mountain view). While most of my (Masorti / Conservative) friends looked concerned, or outright expressed their concern that I had to take a trip to this exclusively religious neighborhood, I was excited. Not only are my cousins really nice, welcoming and fun, they always give me insight to my complicated family history, of which I only get a chunk from my dad, grandparents and uncles.

Yes, I will admit that putting on a long skirt and long sleeves, when it is easily 80 degrees Farenheit, desert-style, is very difficult for a girl from Florida. I will admit that I agonized over the shoes I wanted to wear (closed-toed are better for shul in Har Nof). I will admit that I worried about my elbows showing (no matter how much I joke, I care to be modest, whatever that means in the place I am staying). But as Allison and I made my way to Har Nof, I was happy, if not a little shvitzy (sweaty).

We went to shul with cousin David at a Breslov (branch of ultra-Orthodox Judaism) synagogue across the street. Being in the Women’s Section, divided from the men by a mechitza (a separating barrier, in this case, made out of wood and with lace curtains at the top), we davened with the men. The women don’t lead the services, but at this shul, I was happy to hear that we were allowed to sing along. The service was lovely and not too crowded, and watching the men dance after services, peering through the lace curtain, I learned that Breslavers always dance in a circle after services. It was really cool…and so were the furry, round hats some of the men wore.

Dinner was with my cousins and their neighbors, and took place in the sukkah on the balcony of the apartment. It was really cool. The husband of the guests, a ba’al teshuvah (a term for somebody who “comes back” to religion, becoming more religious), quizzed Allison and me on our views as Conservative Jews in a slightly uncomfortable way. I explained my goals as a student, and was careful in my wording, as I respect his found happiness and meaning in Orthodoxy. Even with the slightly uncomfortable feeling of different views at the same table, there was plenty of singing and discussion of Torah and other important bodies of Jewish writings flowing around the table like the RC Cola with Cherry Heering (I FOUND IT, ZAYDE! Dad, tell Zayde!)…and the food was awesome!

After dinner, my cousins apologized for their guests making us uncomfortable. As I brushed this off, saying that I wasn’t really offended, I secretly added this to my arsenal of cool things about my cousins – they have such kavod (respect) for others, and didn’t want us to feel uncomfortable as guests. They are also from the Midwest, and with that comes not only a calm and collected way of interacting with poeple, but a background in the less-religious reality of growing up in a (more) secular town (than Jerusalem).

The rest of Shabbat was nice. I slept through services because of an early-morning stomach ache, only to enjoy a beautiful lunch in the sukkah. I read over a hundred pages in my book (currently, Kavalier and Clay), and concluded the Sabbath, and visit, with a special havdallah (separation ceremony between Shabbat and the week) in the Sukkah. Gloria and I talked about my whole family, from my grandparents all the way to my brothers and the minutiae of their daily lives in DC and FL. I learned a lot about my cousins, their children and their lives, and basked in the glow of the proud grandparents, checking out pictures of the grandkids, and enjoying the newest album of their latest Kohen (descended from the priestly tribe of Jews from the time of the Bible), who is just 1 month old.

While enjoying this weekend, it hit me again. Because of the way I dress (jeans and tank tops), the way that I choose to daven (egalitarian), and other lifestyle choices (like not getting married early), I am the secular other in the state of Israel. I may not feel secular, but in comparison to the religious right, I guess I am. I, Sara Beth B, little miss super-Jew of Coral Springs, Gainesville, even the Upper West Side, am a chiloni (secular Jew) in dati (religious) clothing.

Hungry and Tired in the Holy Land

I wish I could say that my Yom Kippur was extra meaningful, because I was in Israel. But in reality, I faced YK as I faced every other fast day. Overburdened with dread, oozing worry and twitching from Nalgene withdrawl, I took to Kehillat Kedem for Kol Nidre (YK Eve), morning and Neilah (the closing service).

The services were pretty good. My new ArtScroll? Filled with fun facts and Rashi (really famous Jewish commentary). My attempts at mostly-white outfits? Pretty successful. Waking up with a headache? Not a good start to a fast day. The fast ending at 630? Pretty fabulous.

Friday night was pretty good. Hot in the room where we had services (a ballet / gym / multipurpose area for a school on Emek Refaim), but cool outside. Roommates and I took to the streets after Kol Nidre, where there was a Simchat-Torah- (Jewish Mardi Gras-esque celebration of the Torah) in-New-York quality. Everyone was out, everyone was taking to everyone else. But, unlike NYC, where you are contained to sanctuaries and sidewalks, on Yom Kippur, Israel stops. The one police car out patrolling struggled to avoid the people who were filling Emek Refaim. Kids rode rampant on their bicycles on the one day a year when they're not going to get in trouble for it. They may, however, get hurt: approximately 200 bike accidents are reported every year when kids take over the streets on YK. No cars, except for the errant police cruiser, are on the streets. Even the most secular of Israelis sit and relax, and wear white next to their religious friends.

Saturday morning, I looked around services. Things aren't so bad from the back row of Kedem, because there is a ballet barre to hold up your droopy head. I knew some of the songs, and while I was too tired to sing along, I hummed and mouthed the words. Services weren't as long as they had been in NYC (still too long for my tastes without a sermon, but I'm a very straightforward kind of girl when there is no food in my belly), and I got to napping at approximately 2PM. Allison and I returned to shul at 550PM for the closing of services, and immediately proceeded to a lovely breakfast at soon-to-be-Rafi's apartment. Robbie's dairy fest was delightful!

Every year, at the end of the fast on YK, and at the end of the Passover seders, we sing the words "Next Year in Jerusalem." Now, last YK, I wasn't thinking I'd be in Israel. I figure next year I'll be back in NY, where I belong. But it was interesting to utter those words in a service, not really believing them the way I did when we said it on Passover.

I've added some feeds to the beelog, as you can see on the sidebar. The first is a link to my roommate Rachel's blog. For some Israel observations, I choose not to repeat myself. Rachel, in this case, speaks for me.

I also added links to Haaretz.com and Jpost.com, because if you're not getting enough news from me, you can see what's going on in my new town.

I leave with you a few pictures (for more, see my roommate Rachel's blog.)

Here is what the cable box fed into our TV just an hour before Yom Kippur:













Here is the Israeli cable channel wishing us an easy fast and an inscription in the Book of Life:













And, my pre-YK purchase: my delightful new backpack that holds my laptop!