The magic and power of song

One of the hundreds of birds that resides outside of the
apartment in Kiryat Mashe

Song and dance have always been a part of my connection to the divine. I sometimes feel like there is a musical running inside of my head as every action becomes attached to a song. In Vermont, I live with musicians and we sing every mess we make, and every ribbon we tie, and every meal we cook. Songs have expanded from a source of pleasure and a connection to the spark of the Universe to a constant soundtrack of life. I did not, however, expect the connection to continue into my trip to Israel.

According to two unrelated individuals I interacted with this past week (the first being a Rabbi teaching one of my classes and the second being the leader of the Kabbalat Shabbat I will talk about later) there are 10 words for Song in Hebrew. The idea of song is so special to the Jewish people that one word would not do, there has to be a word for a song sung with gratitude that differ from the word for a song so powerful it creates silence.

Bathroom at the Nachlot Rosh
Chodesh party. Picture taken on
my phone.

On Tuesday night of this week, I attended a Rosh Chodesh party in Nachlaot with Jerusalem Soul Center. It was the kind of party I grew up with in a place so far from home.

The house was amazing, you enter down an alley to a small open space with a few benches surrounded by buildings. As I entered the house, I saw that the entry room was not a room at all, but an enclosed patio. A truly Mediterranean structure, with the outdoors flowing seamlessly into the indoors. The space became truly Israeli with the Middle Eastern flare of stone and tile decorating the floors but transforming into high plaster arches in the inner rooms. The music spilled into the street as the participants celebrated the coming of a new month. The party was potluck, and as we, myself and a few of the other girls on the program, entered we were immediately offered hot drinks. We were welcomed with, everything short of, open arms*.

Sunset at the Kotel, the Wailing Wall, in the Old City. Picture
taken on my phone.

In Orthodox Jewish culture, it is considered improper for women to sing (or dance) in front of men. In the mixed community of Soul Center, with individuals from all walks of life, a careful respect was given for this rule. Women took part in music through drumming and guitar, and I saw some women dancing as well. The boundaries were not being pushed, but they were being very carefully trod. The music was the wild joyful song of a party. Different music was being played inside than out and smiles and laughter were everywhere. I truly did think about the parties I grew up with. I thought about my spiritual history and about Shebang Street Theater. When I left a bit before midnight, to catch the last train of the evening, the party was still going strong, if rearranging slightly to respect the neighbors.

That night stayed with me as I continued through my week. On Friday, the power of song came through to me again. I contacted the Rabbi who served at the Synagogue I grew up in. She is now living in Jerusalem in a district called Baka, a much less orthodox part of town. I called to see if she knew of a good, non-Orthodox, place for me to go for the Friday night of Shabbat last week.

She was ecstatic.

Beautiful architecture shows up in interesting places in
Jerusalem. This pop-out window was in the middle of an
alley-way on the way to the Old City Shuk (market).

After some initial excitement, she told me that I called just in time to go to an amazing Kabbalat Shabbat that happened once a month. She gave me her address and told me to come over as soon as I could. I left the apartment in the mid afternoon and found her working on a soup for a potluck. We talked and I helped her with the soup. We were joined by another girl who had been in one of her congregations in the US, and just after we lit candles, we went to a musical Kabbalat Shabbat**.

The Old City is easy to get lost in. There
are stair everywhere leading to anywhere.
Back alleys can turn into main streets in
absolutely no time

The room did not feel like a holy space when we entered it. It was a medium sized empty community room with several concentric circles of chairs. In the center circle, there were a group of musicians sitting together. The people came in, sitting in the chairs, standing around the walls, sitting in the middle of the circles on the floor, until the music started. The power of this group was amazing. Nava Tehila is the name of the group. They practice under one of the newest branches of the Jewish tree, Renewal Judaism.  This is a practice based in mysticism and spirituality and, much like Soul Center, has Jews from all walks of life. Unlike Soul Center, the female voice is clear and strong. From their amazing female Rabbi, to the voices rising in song around the room.

This was a very powerful gathering, the music was זָמַר,zamar, the song that cuts away all of the external and leaves only the divine. In that plain and unassuming room, our music built a temple and brought Hashem’s power to Earth in a way that made grown men cry. The room was so full of emotion and song that I have no other words I can say.

On Saturday evening, I went to yet another beautiful and music filled event. In the (very) Orthodox community of Har Nof, about a half hour’s walk from my apartment, we (myself and a few of the other girls) went to a musical Havdallah. While it began as any Havdallah does, with the wine and the spices and the candle, it quickly became an amazing jam session.

Every week, this family comes together for Shabbat. And every week, they invite people they know and love, and complete strangers, to come into their home and to make music. This past week, the musicians included six guitars, two box drums, two hand drums, a flute, a variety of small percussion and a cello.  The music included everything from prayer, to secular songs, to collections of sound made up on the spot. It was an amazing way to end an amazingly musical week.

An amazing Shabbat sunrise. Hail Sunne!

*Many orthodox men and women refrain from touching anyone of the opposite gender other than their immediate family and spouse.

**Kabbalat Shabbat is a period of prayers meant to usher in the Angel of Shabbat, also known as the Shabbat bride.

If you would like to help me fund my time in Israel, please donate! gofund.me/joystar

A ramble on water and the Jewish people

The almond trees are starting to bloom at Sataf in the Jerusalem Mountains.
Sataf is a preserved plantation from over two thousand years ago. The trees
are still raised using ancient techniques.

There is something distinctly and divinely Mediterranean about this experience. As I sit on the porch overlooking North-Western Jerusalem with my laptop and, what would be a glass of wine, if we had a bottle opener, I am enthralled by the green-ness of the plant life in the dead of winter, the pink-yellow stone buildings all around me, and the contrast of old and new. I hear the sounds of cars and scooters and motorcycles, construction and bird songs are everywhere, and the voices of the people on the street speak of life and awareness. The air smells fresh and everything tastes just a little like lemon. All of the life around me, the steady hum and thrum of people, plants, and animals, flows from those same waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

The fig trees growing on terraces at Sataf. 

In Jewish culture and religion, water is a symbol of purity. Purity on Judaism is not the white and untouched beauty of modern American Christianity, but a spiritual state in which a Jew is separated from the divine. In modern Jewry, the only way to cleanse the impurity and be able to connect again to the divine is through submersion in Living Water. Living water is water that includes rainwater or naturally flowing water. It is a part of the Jewish teachings that connect us to the Earth and to Nature.

In Israel, water is an immensely important substance. More than half of this small country is desert. While I am currently here over the rainy season, over half of the year sees no rainfall at all. The Sea (medium sized lake) of Galilee and the Jordan River are the only sources of fresh water for an area about the size of New Jersey. It is not difficult to understand how such a precious resource can be seen as holy to the people of this place.

In the Sataf olive grove, there is the ruin of an olive press. On
the lower left hand side of this picture, you can see the place
where the grind-stone was connected to the floor. The white tiles
are still visible under the collected mud. The olives were pressed
at the grindstone and the oil would flow down into the pool
(currently full of muddy water). 

Water is the potential for life. In the Jewish creation story, Dry land is first created on the Third Day (interestingly, this is before the concept of time is created), the day after the creation of Water. In the creation of dry land, is also the creation for the potential of plant life. This plant life is then brought into being when Adam prays for rain. This concept is so interesting to me, since it says that plants, unlike animals in this story, not only need water for survival, but for creation itself. It is believed, for easily extrapolated reasons, that rain is the holiest of waters, followed by the flowing waters of the Earth.

According to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, a historical spiritual figure revered by a sect of Orthodox Jews, water, and liquids in general, also hold the key to cohesion. This is a very interesting concept in a place as torn apart as Israel. From the outside, Israel seems like a land constantly at war, from inside there is a sense of unity, the people, whether they are Jews or not, are one people. They work together, they enjoy each other's company, they eat in the same places. From the inside, this is not a country at war, this is a country united by war. The history of

Also at Sataf, this is the outside section of the water system created by the
original inhabitants by crafting a series of tunnels to collect the rain water that
fell onto the hillside.

animosity surrounding Israel is so very interesting when looked at in terms of Israel's physical location. Good trade relations between Israel and it's surrounding countries would allow consistent and easy land trade to all parts of the middle east, where currently, Israel is a physical block between Syria, Jordon, and Egypt. But I digress.

In recent years, the initiative and ingenuity of the Israeli people has taken great strides in the process of desalinating and recycling water. It is estimated that 80% of drinking water in Israel is processed, cleaned and re-used. This is a huge amount of water which is processed every day. In contrast to my earlier statement about Jewish culture and Religion seeing and experiencing it's connection to nature through water, in the desalination process, we see a huge amount of brine water, the salty liquid that remains after fresh water is removed from sea water, being pumped back in the the ocean. To the best of my knowledge, there is no research about how this effects the delicate balance that exists for sea life, both in the Mediterranean and in the rest of the world.

In the Northern part of Israel, my cousin has an outdoor Koi
pond.

I will complete this ramble by reminding my readers of one very interesting fact. The root of the word "Rival" and "River" are the same. Water is one of the most precious and fought over substances in the world, probably more than gold or jewels. Water is a source of life, and a spiritual and holy liquid. Without it, there would be nothing but sand.

And possibly Adhumla...

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Havdalah

Kibbutzeem* are intentional communities originally funded
by the Israeli government. They have evolved over time to
take on many different forms an structures which I hope to talk
about later in this blog.

Liminal space is an important part of most cultures. Around the world, traditions and rituals take place that remove us from everyday life and hold us in stasis while we move from one part of life into another. In Judaism, one of these rituals takes place every week as we celebrate Shabbat.

In Orthodox tradition, it is a time for prayer, learning, and family. As the sun sets on Friday night, the women of the house light candles and pray. Over the next twenty-four hours, it is customary to refrain from the usual activities of the week, shut down any technology, and to celebrate the week that just ended. Shabbat is generally accepted to be the most important holiday in the Jewish year.

Bird song filled the air whenever we went outside, even when
it was pouring rain. Most of the birds were crows, but there
were also quite a few song birds.

Each week, Shabbat is closed with Havdalah. Havdalah, which means separation, is a ceremony of the senses in which the participants use all five senses to define the boundaries between the sacred and the everyday.

While I was raised in a primarily Jewish home, Havdalah was not a part of our regular practice. I never really understood the significance until this past weekend when we spent the weekend having Shabbaton` at Kibbutz Galon, about an hour South-West of Jerusalem.

Snow in Jerusalem is not quite as extreme as in Vermont...

This Shabbaton was scheduled by Onward Israel, one of the primary funders of our program. On the way, we picked up a group of male students also doing jInternship. This was our first time meeting the other participants in the program and it was wonderful getting a new perspective. We left on Thursday afternoon, after a day of snow on Wednesday and traveled by mini-bus to the Kibbutz.

There are cats everywhere in Israel. They are about as populous,
and well thought of, as squirrels in the US 

Over the next 40 or so hours, we got to know the jInternship boys, a group of Israeli soldiers, and a group of between 30 and 40 Australian High School Graduates on a three-week program traveling around Israel. There were people from all walks of life, between the ages of 18 and 30 sharing a Shabbat experience in a place we had never been before. I had conversations about topics ranging from raising dairy cows, living in a yurt, Aboriginal Australian food, and climate change, to cultural vs. religious Judaism, problems facing Jews around the world, Norse gods, and what defines a Jew. Everyone was interesting and every conversation was amazing.

It rained most of the weekend, but it was a similar temperature
to October in Vermont.

As the sun set on Saturday, we all came together for Havdalah. In that moment, I saw the door to the liminal space we had created closing. As a group of young Jews, without a Rabbi or elder, we poured the wine, we lit the candle, we said the appropriate prayers, we smelled the spices, and we listened to each other sing. In that moment we became an image of young Jews around the world. It didn’t matter how we practiced our faith (or even if we had faith). We said good bye to the week that had just passed and welcomed in the next. We experienced something both unique and mundane.

The smell of roses filled the Kibbutz. The herbs and flowers
that grow in Israel are amazing and fragrant!

Now, as I am starting a new week, I am thinking about how we mark the more mundane moments of our lives and how even a thing that happens every week can be made amazing, unique, and special. In this moment, I am putting forward an intent to do Havdalah every week. To commemorate even the most ordinary week of my life.

Shabbat Shalom.

If you would like to help me fund my Israel adventure, please visit http://www.gofundme.com/joystar to donate.


*Kibbutzeem: Plural of Kibbutz
`Shabbaton: an event or program of education, and usually celebration, that is held on a Shabbat (Jewish sabbath). Sometimes a Shabbaton is an entire weekend with the main focus on the Shabbat. ((Wikipedia))

Week One

Looking down into the tunnels by the Temple
Mount in the Old City

I barely know what to say, it has been a crazy week.

To say that this program is not what I expected is putting it a bit lightly. I have made a practice in the past year of trying not to have expectations in new experiences, but the truth is, that is a nearly impossible feat. I spent over a month thinking about this program, so it would be impossible not to have formed some kind of idea of what it would be like.

Each of the stones in the wall is the weight
of a fully packed jumbo jet

To begin with, there is so much more orthodoxy than I was expecting. As an academic, I feel like there are certain expectations from the other girls, the school, and the program, that I be, at the very least monotheist. Of course, This is the kind of challenge that I need right now. I came to Israel to be sure that I was spiritually comfortable with my Heathen practices in concert with my hereditary and cultural Judaism and this kind of program can only strengthen that or break it completely. Either way, I will have an answer to my questions.

The view from the balcony of the apartment, it faces East-North East with the Old City being slightly to the South East of us.
It lines up fairly well with the antenna on the right side of the picture.

One of the major expectations that I didn't realize I had is semantic. The work “Seminary” in non-Orthodox-Jewish US has always connoted to me a school for serious religious study especially for those becoming priests (or Rabbis), therefore, this being a women’s seminary gave me the impression that it was a women’s Rabbinical school, so when I was told it was Orthodox, I assumed Modern Orthodox, which is much more lenient and open to change. In Orthodox Judaism, a seminary is a place for women to learn Torah, which is great, but there is no Talmud study because women are not allowed to learn Talmud.

The view looking directly down from the balcony - look at that
lovely garden

The way I have been putting it here is that I feel a little like I have been thrown into the deep end, and  I was really planning to just wade. But I know how to swim. I have the skills to get through this and to enjoy it. With my training in Anthropology, I am all set, I have nothing to worry about. I am learning and experiencing, and that is what is most important.

View from the plane.

And I’m not alone. I already feel like I have made friends. I am not the only girl having these troubles, and it sounds like, in the past, more of the girls have been in the position of the secular, looking for more academic interest than practical. I am looking forward to the rest of this trip. I know that there are a lot of places it can go, and so much that can o very right or very wrong, but I think I will learn so much.

Tel Aviv from the air.

I am scared of all of the dangers that come with being in Israel, and all the strife that is around me. I am worried that my finances will run out or that I will get lost in an area where no one speaks. English. I'm afraid that my mounting sines infection will keep waking up my room mate and that the antibiotics I just got wont cure it. 

But Jerusalem is beautiful, I am here, and what else can I ask for?