The last few weeks I have been mostly involved only in my learning. However, I have spent a couple of recent Shabbatot in some interesting Yishuvim (settlements) not too far from Jerusalem.

About a month ago, I went with some fellow students on a Shabbaton of sorts to Kochav Yaakov. Kochav Yaakov is a settlement north of Jerusalem consisting of a diverse mix of residents that span the spectrum of observant Judaism in Israel. It was founded in 1984 and today has approximately 380 families. I stayed with a very nice family. I attended a very interesting Kabbalat Shabbat / Maariv prayer service on the outskirts of the Yishuv, where a lone house stood with a small landscaped area around it. Together various residents and guests of the Yishuv sang, danced, and prayed as the sun set, illuminating the clouds and sky with beautiful shades of red. The bare desert lay in front of us, with what I believe was a Arab settlement over the hill to our left. After having dinner at my hosts, we all met up again and ventured over to a Chasidish Tish with Rabbi Kornreich (the local chief rabbi) in Tel Tzion, an adjacent community. After Shacharit, we all met up for lunch with a doctor who is an alumni of my Yeshiva who lives in the Yishuv. It was incredible to see an example of how the Jewish people have transformed the desert into beautiful, habitable communities. I am told that the flowers and foliage around the community are sustained by small “drip”-based water tubes. Kochav Yaakov was “established on the value of Jewish unity” according to their website, and such value was quite highly evident in the interactions I had there.

Last Shabbat, I went to Hashmonaim to spend Shabbat with Rabbi Ari Solomont and family. Hashmonaim is a Yishuv between Yerushalayim and Tel Aviv, near Modi’in. It is a beautiful religious-zionist community with nice large homes and a large percentage of English-speaking Olim. It felt very much like suburban North America with an Israeli aesthetic. Most of the other guests at the Solomonts were recent high-school graduates who are studying here for some time before continuing on to university (as is the practice) and it was interesting to hear their perspectives. I thoroughly enjoyed this Shabbat, and after Shabbat ended, on Saturday night, I was able to hear a lecture by Rabbi Herschel Shachter, Rosh Yeshiva (dean) of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) of Yeshiva University in New York. He spoke on the subject of Purim, drawing on a vast array of sources. He is, according to a Rabbi of mine, one of the leading American rabbis of our generation, and it was highly fortuitous that he happened to be speaking in Hashmonaim that night.

About three weeks ago, we attended the funeral of Rabbi Noah Weinberg. Rabbi Weinberg was founder and Rosh Yeshiva of Aish HaTorah, one of the foremost Jewish outreach organizations in the world, and an organization that has affected thousands of Jews though their Jewish learning programs, Israel activism training, and their very popular Aish.com website among others. The eulogies were delivered from the stairs at entrance of a Shul in the Kiryat Sanz neighborhood of Jerusalem. I was quite an emotional event, where seemingly thousands of people gathered.

On this past Wednesday, we went on a Tiyul (tour/excursion) in the area to the northwest of Yerushalayim. We toured the area where Operation Nachshon, the 1948 military operation to stop the Arab blockade that prevented supply convoys from reaching Jerusalem, took place. This was a crucial corridor to the northeast of the city, surrounded by 40 Arab towns. The success of this mission facilitated the inclusion of West Jerusalem in the 1948 borders of the State of Israel (the Old City and East Jerusalem not having been captured until the Six Day War in June 1967). The area has become Castel National Park, a commemoration, and includes the trenches from the battles. We then walked along a trail in the hills in the area. It was incredible to be able to see the city of Jerusalem from a neighboring hilltop in the Mivaseret Tzion area – the Jerusalem Forest lay in front of us, behind it Har Nof, and then the other western neighborhoods of the city were visible, including the huge bridge that will be part of the light rail transit project.

 

With the new term beginning, things have again reverted to a predictable routine. It has been nice to get back into learning here, though it is going fast. Pressure is mounting for me to figure out what I am going to be doing the following year. At the same time, I am trying to make the most of my time here, while also realizing that the whole body of Jewish knowledge cannot be acquired in eleven months (or even a lifetime) and not to be overwhelmed in that regard.

During Chol HaMoed, I travelled with some of the guys from the Yeshiva to Beitar Illit – a Hareidi (”Ultra-Orthodox”, though that term is generally not preferred by the Orthodox community in my experience) settlement in the “West Bank”. Wikipedia claims (based on official Israeli statistics) that it is the fastest growing city in Israel with the highest birthrate – with a present population of 32,000 that is expected to more than triple by 2020. We went to Beitar to have lunch in the Sukkah of one of our rabbis. We took a bulletproof bus that had separate seating for men and women – an interesting experience in itself. Beitar reminded me of Har Nof in terms of aesthetics, though it felt newer. From Rabbi Lerner’s Sukkah, it was possible to see the neighborhing Arab town – quite close – with the small security fence that political leftists make a huge fuss about (the so-called “Apartheid Wall”). During Chol HaMoed, I also was able to reconnect with some friends that I hadn’t seen in some time and become more comfortable moving around Yerushalayim (and enjoy some of the gastronomic offerings). We saw a stunning light show of sorts at Migdal David (the Tower of David in the Old City) depicting the history of the city of Yerushalayim.

Simchat Torah was spent back at the Yeshiva. During the Hakafot (dancing with the Sifre Torah) on the morning of Shmini Atzeret, we joined the rest of the Beit HaKerem community, where we danced in Kikar Denia (Denmark Square) a few blocks away. It was quite nice to see that kind of communal unity and public celebration. However, I really enjoyed the second day, where only the smaller group of students who keep two days (i.e. North Americans who do not intend to stay long term in Israel) had our own prayer services and meals – a much more personal experience.

This past Shabbat, we travelled south to Dimona for a Shabbaton. Dimona is a town of roughly 40,000 people in Negev desert. It is a development town – meaning it was established in the 1950s to encourage migration from the overcrowded urban centers to other areas of Israel. Such towns are generally among the most economically disadvantaged in Israel, with high levels of unemployment. According to one of the community’s rabbis, Dimona has a mixed population (Ashkenazi, Sefardi, secular, religious) and efforts by the rabbinate and Judaic institutions in the city to increase the religiosity among its residents have been so successful that it has become a movement of sorts. The sociology major in me would like to explore whether there is a possible correlation between poverty and increased religious commitment/involvement in a given region. Dimona is also, so I am told, adjacent to the site of Israel’s nuclear program. Jokes concerning the potential radioactive content of the food we ate and other nuclear-related humor were plentiful during the weekend. Even the logo of the “guest house” (i.e. high-end youth hostel) we stayed in resembled a nuclear explosion – though this could have been merely coincidental.

On Sunday following the Shabbaton, we went hiking with a tour guide (and former student of Shapell’s/Darche Noam) in the Ein Ovdat canyon. The guide explained the geological, political, and theological features and significance of the canyon. Ein Ovdat functions as the southern border, according to one of two opinions, of what was the Biblical Land of Israel. In the afternoon, we travelled into Be’er Sheva – the most populous town in the Negev – and took a tour of an archeological site, Tel Sheva, that was once an urban center and important outpost at various points in and around Biblical times. 

I have posted a variety of photos below. Please be aware that some of the photos were taken by Benji Cheirif (noted in the comments below the photos). He’s an awesome photographer and his work can be viewed here.

 

As I sit in London’s Heathrow airport awaiting my connecting flight to Israel, I find myself strangely fascinated by air travel.

Let me qualify this statement. I am not especially interested in the mechanics of how airplanes are able to fly. Nor am I fascinated by the actual experience of sitting on a cramped and noisy plane several thousand metres in the air, putting up with increasingly poor service as airlines continue their attempts to cut their operating costs amid present economic conditions, or passing through increasingly intrusive security checkpoints. What fascinates me is the whole notion of thousands of people traveling across the world each day from different places to different places, and the short intersection they have with each other, whether on the plane itself or in the airport terminal. The strange intimacy of this shared experience, however brief and singular, is fascinating to me.

There is another aspect of air travel that fascinates me as well. As I rode on a couple of the shuttle buses that connect Heathrow’s five terminals, I was also astounded by the sheer number of personnel, the level of infrastructure, and the myriad support services that are required to facilitate air travel. I was also awestruck by the number of airlines from all over the world that have planes parked at the various gates.

Perhaps all this sounds a little needlessly sentimental. But air travel itself has long provided fodder for the collective cultural imagination and epitomized certain socio-cultural ideals – some of which are perhaps foreign to authentic Judaism (for some reason I felt a need to include this as a sort of disclaimer of sorts or a legitimator of this rambling… hmmm…) A Google™ search reveals a number of relatively recent American newspaper and magazine articles nostalgic for the so-called “glamorous” and “sophisticated” air travel experience circa 1950, and discussing its post-1970s shift to a de-regulated commonplace form of mass-transit with constant security threats and “price wars” and the like. However, these articles also note that such romantic notions of air travel are themselves based more in marketing imagery than reality.

I’m really not sure exactly where I am trying to take this post – and it may seem somewhat disjointed – but it certainly keeping me entertained during this nine-hour layover, though perhaps I should be doing something more productive with this time.

On a practical note, I was quite pleased to discover (via some prior Google™ searching) that during my stopover, I could have a nice warm shower (£10 in the “Urban Retreat” lounge) and buy a Kosher cheese and veggie sandwich at Caffè Nero (which was quite decent – certified by the London Beth Din – that is, the sandwich, not the cafe), both in Terminal 1 “airside”.

And perhaps now I should go check which gate my connecting flight will be departing from.