Israel is a Nation where the seasons are marked by the holidays they contain. The Biblical festivals are spread throughout the year, and are celebrated with a whole-hearted enthusiasm that is almost entirely without consumerism. And today’s Israelis have found uniquely appropriate ways to integrate ancient traditions with modern-day life.

The fall festivals are almost upon us. I see the evidence everywhere. The weather is cooling off significantly, and you can almost smell the approaching rain. Lined up on the pavement outside every toy store is a breathtaking display of tiny bicycles - ready to be ridden for the first time down the streets of Jerusalem on the evening of Yom Kippur, when there will be no cars on the roads, guaranteed. People are making plans for the placement of their succah, the little outdoor structure they’ll be eating all their meals in soon. The atmosphere in the neighborhood is very warm - people are taking the time to stop and talk to eachother in the streets, to get reaquainted and make plans to have coffee and eat meals together. Families are regathering, taking time to touch base and relax together.

The first of these holidays is Rosh HaShanah - the new year. Soon the sound of the ram’s horn will be heard throughout the city, and we’ll be dipping apples in honey in anticipation of a sweet year. The holiday begins tomorrow afternoon and doesn’t end until sundown Sunday. It’s a full Shabbat, so everything will be closed during this time.

I’ve lived in Israel for many years, and I’ve seen many a new year. So tell me - WHY, OH WHY did I put off going to the grocery store until this afternoon?! And why does it seem that everyone else in Jerusalem did the exact same thing? I knew I was in trouble when I almost couldn’t get into the parking lot. I grabbed the very last shopping cart and shoved my way through the door. The grocery store I frequent has (of course!) chosen this day to rearrange two of it’s “aisles” (I use this term loosely - if you’ve ever been in a grocery store in the Middle East, you’ll know exactly what I mean) and install a gigantic display for paper towels (but of course, it would be a waste to use it just for paper towels, so they’re trying to shove feminine products, exotic spices, and canned vegitables in the thing as well. This is a complicated endeavor, which involves 4 grown men and much shouting and arm waving). The checkout is understaffed (probably because half the employees are erecting that rediculous paper towel display), and the few women working checkout look pretty frazzled. Watch your step with them, it doesn’t take much to make them snap. If you do anything wrong, your check-out girl will most definately decide to take her cigarette break in the middle of scanning your groceries.

All in all, it’s as chaotic a scene as anything I’ve ever seen here (and that’s saying quite a lot). I can’t wait to do it again next year.

Happy new year to you all - may this year be sweet for you and yours.

Life in Israel, best of | 3 Comments »

Don’t bother showing up on time. The groom is 2 hours late, and don’t even ask about the bride. But don’t arrive too late, because there will be plenty of amazing food and you yourself will need plenty of time to shmooze with family and friends (don’t worry, they won’t be on time either).Once the principals finally arive, the ceremony will begin. Israeli weddings (much like everything else in Israel) are extrememly casual - which is strange when you consider that they are also very traditional, with elements going back thousands of years. Some of these elements seem very foreign to me as an American (the bride circling the groom 7 times, the central role of the contract outlining the terms of the marriage, glass smashing, etc.), but for the most part, things look vaguely familiar. The bride and groom are glowing with nervous excitement. The family is hovering nearby, happy and sad at the same time. The officiant has a lot to say, and no one is listening. My favorite part is near the end. The officiant will take the tallit from the shoulders of the groom, cover the couple with it, and sing the Aaronic Benediction over them. I cry every time.

After the ceremony comes the (massive, amazing) sit down dinner. Roasting of the couple will ensue. Finally, the part of the evening the guests have all been waiting for will arrive - time to hit the dance floor. Failure to dance at an Israeli wedding is a massive insult. If you like the couple at all, you’d best be on the dance floor. Don’t worry if you can’t dance - no one else can either. If you’re lucky, they’ll play lots of klezmer and middle eastern dance music, and you’ll wind up dancing in circles and throwing people into the air - fun fun.

Finally, broken, battered and exhausted, you’ll climb into your car (unable to hear anything because the music is always too loud) and head home.

Last night our dear friend Shmulik got married. Shmulik, his mother, and his 3 sisters are really more like family than friends. Twelve years ago, when Franklin and I were newly married, living in a foreign land (Tel Aviv - as foreign as foreign lands get), and couldn’t speak a lick of Hebrew, Daisy and her kids took us in. They fed us, entertained us, educated us, and loved us. We are forever grateful.

The ceremony was beautiful (on the beach just south of Tel Aviv at sunset), and the food was amazing, but I think what I enjoyed the most about the evening was the incredible sense of family that I felt. We love being a part of the Salway Clan, and we’re exceedingly pleased to see Shmulik so happily married. Many blessings for you, Shmulik and Suzie, as you begin your new life together.

General, best of | 6 Comments »