holy days

Me sitting on a chair with water in my hand and my mouth wide open... i just thought this was a good way to start this post so i did it

So Purim and Easter happened.

What's Purim? The sound cats make in Israel? A mispronunciation of that hairstyle where people make their hair curly? A city in Russia?

Purim is none of those things, but I am sure you are all happy I somehow incorporated cats into my blog once again.

The history of Purim is found in the book of Esther during a time when the Jewish people were in Persia ruled at the time by King Ahashverosh. One of the King's advisors, Haman, planned the genocide of the Jewish people in Persia, but his plans were foiled by Mordecai and Esther, who had recently become Queen of Persia. Purim celebrates the deliverance of the Jewish people from Haman as stipulated in Esther 9:22: "...that they should make them days of feasting and gladness, days for sending gifts of food to one another and gifts to the poor."

A simplified version, as one classmate summarized, of all of Israel's holidays is: "Someone tried to kill us, God rescued us, we celebrate".

That is the history of Purim. The modern practice by the more secular population of Israel looks more like an Israeli version of the American Halloween: everyone dresses up in all sorts of costumes walking around the city celebrating. Even a guy dressed as Aladdin rode down the road (as seen on YouTube) in Tel Aviv. Of course there are varying explanations as to why this tradition of costume wearing has come about, from the fact that God seems hidden behind the scenes in the story of Esther to the fact Esther hid her Jewish identity while becoming Queen of Persia (see book of Esther for the whole story)...

I dressed up as a cowboy. My excuse for not eliminating American stereotypes with my costume is that I found the cowboy hat at the Dead Sea and the red bandana brought the total cost of my costume to about $2. Hence, the cowboy. Although I had many people ask if I was Kurt Cobain. And then one guy from Brazil asked if I was trying to be Captain Love from Zorro. The pictures below are for you to make your own verdict as to who I was or should have been (one thing is certain though: I am definitely happier than either of them):

What's Easter? Someone with English as a second language trying to tell you to go further east? One who easts? The southern way of saying "he stir"? I stir, you stir, she stir, easter?

Easter is none of those things. In fact, I'm sorry for the last one. I may have been trying a bit too hard to think of another thing to say...

Easter is the Christian celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Good Friday (the Friday before Easter Sunday) is when Christians remember the death of Jesus on the cross which was prophesied in Isaiah 53, "...but he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed." Easter Sunday is the day Christians remember when the same Jesus was raised from the dead, a fact that separates Christianity from other major religions.

I spent Easter visiting some of the major biblical sites in Jersualem from the Garden Tomb to the Mount of Olives and the Church of Ascension to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

The Garden Tomb

One of the great things about Israel is the sheer density of historical and religious locations packed into the tiny country. Furthermore, Jersualem itself contains major religious sites for all three major religions.

Just look at the weekend I just described to you. In one weekend there was a Jewish holiday, a secular, Westernized costume party with people from all over the world, and a major Christian celebration. Sitting on the Mount of Olives on Easter Sunday looking over the diverse city below church bells tolled, ringing out across the hills telling of their joy. Shortly afterward, the cries of the Muslim call to prayer sounded out in the same city.

I am still in the stage of my journey here that I am trying to absorb more than I interject and so I am still absorbing and observing all these happenings while trying to process and ask questions more than I force my perceptions and stereotypes. There are definite tensions in this city and nation. You can hear them in the discord of sounds echoing across the landscape on Easter Sunday. You can hear them in conversations and opinions. You can hear them in newspapers and tweets.

You can hear them,
if you listen.

Some of the loudest stretch out and reach the ears of Americans. Others are whispered in a foreign tongue such that only who have broken bread listening to broken hearts can truly hear.

I say this, first, to excuse away my lack of commentary on the politics in this area of the world and, secondly, to encourage you to be engaged in the community around you in a way that enables you to hear the struggles and the voices of those around you. There are oppressed voices in every community.

Listen and notice.

You might just find harmony where you thought there was discord and beauty where you thought there was filth.





 

new normal

Woke up this morning to the sun rising over Jerusalem. Temple Mount glistening in the golden light. Eggs crackling on the gas-burning stovetop. Cats stretching and beginning their daily hunt for food.

This is my new normal.

It is amusing how parts of the world are so distinct and different from others, but what is more amusing to me is how quickly those differences become routine, ordinary, normal.

The following are a few things that have become normal for me:

1. Cats. If you are obsessed with cats please come to Israel and take like fifty cats home with you. In other countries I have traveled to (most recently Guatemala) dogs are normally the animals that roam wild and free, but here in Israel it is definitely cats. I have seen a total of three dogs while I have been here and what has seemed like three thousand cats. These cats even join us in the elevator ride up to our apartment room and some even lie in wait outside your door waiting for your door to open so they can acclimate themselves to the territory that you thought was yours. 
2. Food. I have decided that schwarma laffa is the Israeli version of the burrito in America. It is ubiquitous. It is relatively cheap. They let you choose your toppings. Laffa bread is very similar to fajitas. Therefore my verdict: schwarma laffa is the Israeli burrito. Falafel is also obviously delicious here and there are two wonderful falafel restaurants less than five minutes walking from my apartment selling falafel in pita with toppings for only twelve sheckels (insert hashtag blessed here). Buying food here has become normal as well. I have two primary shopping locations: the supermarket nearby campus and the shuk (or Machane Yehuda). 

   

   The supermarket definitely makes you feel like you are back in America minus the smaller size, the different foods on the shelves, the lack of whole milk (only 1% and 3%), the fact that they sell meat in kilos not pounds, and self-bagging.

   

   The shuk is a wonderful experience. It's like a farmers market on steroids where you have to go at the right times to get the best deals. When you read "best deals" think one sheckel avacados, discounts on dried mango and getting a couple extra pieces of freshly baked pita. You get to walk around and sample basically everything (especially as a foreigner) which is not only perfect for someone wanting a discounted lunch or second-breakfast, but is also the perfect way to figure out what some of the unlabeled foods actually are.

   

   Yes, this is still the same shuk. Yes, it is large. Yes, there are at least twenty different places that sell the same fruit, cheese, dried nuts, meat, spices. Yes, it is the perfect place for a bargain hunter to patiently walk around and make a killing off finding the best prices.

   3. People. Walking around Jerusalem you quickly recognize that Israel has followed in America's footsteps as a melting pot. The other day my friend, Alex and I walked into a store so he could buy some contacts and Alex overheard one of the employees speaking French so he asked him some questions in French to which the guy answered in French and then called over another guy to finish the order who also spoke fluent French who then asked a lady across the room a question in French. Alex said it felt like he was back home in Paris. "This must be what it feels like to be an English-speaker...wherever you go everyone speaks your language." More people have immigrated to Israel from France than any other country for the past two years (http://www.haaretz.com/jewish/news/.premium-1.692152) but there are so many different types of people here. The lady who runs the thrift store down the road is originally from Uruguay, another lady I met spent more than a decade in Argentina and then some time in the United States before moving to Israel, and a guy I met randomly on a bus was raised in Germany before moving here seven years ago. 

   

   The thrift store: where I go to practice my Spanish, find artwork to spice up the apartment, and where I go just because...

   4. Views. The following is a series of pictures that will hopefully make you jealous enough to come visit Israel.

   

   Old City. More history in this photo than I can describe so good thing a picture is worth a thousand words.

   

   Tiberias. We could see the snow-capped top of Mount Hermon from this grass-capped top of a hill.

   

   Little piece of secret paradise.

   

   Zacharie fishing in the Sea of Galilee. (swimming in it was more of a success haha)

   

   Hey look its me with a plastic bag standing next to a tree. Come visit to see more plastic bags and maybe one or two more trees.

Being in a place for a short time allows it to keep that new car smell and allows you to simply focus on the exterior, superficial beauty of a place, but time wears away at that newness leaving exposed raw reality of daily life. Some would prefer to keep their experiences wrapped in plastic or picture frames, but I am grateful for the ability to sink my feet into the ground here for the next couple of months and unwrap all the complexities of life here. Being in a place for a long time allows it to grow on you and allows you to see the dirt and the flowers if you are careful enough to notice them.

This is my new normal.