This morning we went to HUC for a double bar mitzvah and then we
scattered, mostly into the old city. It was a good day, though mostly
unstructured.
(I wonder what the correct way is to refer to a single event containing
the bar mitzvah of two boys. It seems wrong to say I went to "a b'nei
mitzvah", but just "b'nei mitzvah" implies two separate events to me,
like having b'nei mitzvah this week and next. Hence "double bar mitzvah"
above... This ends the anal=retentive portion of this entry.)
Last night there was snow -- not a lot by Pittsburgh standards to be
sure, but enough to cripple parts of the city. (It's like when snow
falls in the south and they shut down the city.) Last night some of
our group had gone off to a shopping mall (teenage demands), and they
ended up waiting outside for two hours for a bus that never came
followed by cabs that never came, until finally one showed up and
people piled in, sitting on laps. One of the adults in the group
has proclaimed "no malls until Eilat", though the snow has mostly
melted today.
While this was the farthest thing from my mind until now,
it occurs to me that I should look for a conventional mall in Eilat
(or elsewhere, but that's really the only opportunity now). A few
Hebrew-language movies on DVD, with English subtitles, might give a
boost to my Hebrew (especially spoken) and be fun besides, assuming
I can find some. My rabbi suggested I also watch English movies with
Hebrew subtitles; I've watched some TV here, but often the subtitles
go by too quickly for me. So eventually, and maybe even now, but I
think the other direction is more important.
(Extra points for finding a movie or two that I've already seen in
English, but I don't know how common dubbing is.)
My rabbi led the service this morning. He'd arranged to borrow a guitar,
so he had that. The congregation consisted of our group and a few
friends of the families; either HUC doesn't have a regular weekday
minyan, or they're on break right now, or it meets somewhere other
than in their chapel. The boys both did very well with chanting torah,
and they gave good divrei torah -- neither of which began with the
phrase "in my parsha" or "my parsha begins" (score!).
The families hosted a luncheon for everyone, which I thought was very
nice of them. It was also held on HUC campus, so I got to see a little
more of the place. It's a beautiful campus -- haven't seen the study
hall, of course, but one can only be so nosy. :-)
The afternoon was designated as time on our own. Another couple and
I decided we wanted to explore the old city some more. Others were
also going to the old city for various reasons, so my rabbi led a
group walking there so we wouldn't have to figure it out on our own.
(We walked past the US consulate on the way and waved to the numerous
security cameras.) My rabbi encouraged us to see the Tower of David
museum, so most of us went in there while he escorted one person to
some other destination.
The museum is not one that's full of artifacts; rather, it tells the
story of Jerusalem's history with a bunch of exhibits and films.
We started with a short animated movie giving an overview from the
town of Shalem on the hillside up to the founding of the state.
The film was well-done; I wouldn't object to seeing it again.
It was narrated in Hebrew with English subtitles, by the way --
those speaking only Arabic are on their own, I guess. (All of the
exhibit signs were trilingual.)
The exhibits themselves were interesting but not very detailed --
definitely closer to "slice of life" than an academic treatment.
The language didn't suggest that it was pitched for kids, though;
I think they probably set out to put together an accessible
introductory presentation and succeeded.
The people I was with wanted to go back to one of the shops on Cardo
in the Jewish quarter. Finding it -- Cardo, I mean, not the shop --
was a bit of a challenge; we missed the small, dark street that started
two-thirds of the way down a staircase. The old city is like that.
We had a map, though, so when we realized we had only walked 20 feet
and had somehow passed it, it was easy to fix. (For those who know
the city: we had walked down Chabad, turned and walked down some steps,
and found ourselves on Yehudim (I think). The map said Cardo was between
them.)
(One language score: earlier in our walk through the city, when we were
trying to figure out if we were going in the right direction, we passed
a tour group being led in Hebrew. I listened for a moment and then told
my companions "they're going to Cardo and we're going the right direction".)
We bought a few things there (none of us haggle well), and then went
off in search of the Armenian quarter so I could look at pottery.
(I really like the painting on Armenian pottery.) We had a little
trouble and it was getting dark, so we only looked at a couple shops.
In one I wanted to buy a couple things and asked the price (one was
marked, one wasn't); he said a number and I countered, and he pointed
to the sign saying "fixed price" -- which is fine with me, actually.
He then proceeded to give us a lesson in haggling, which I found
interesting. (He, having opted out, doesn't have an obvious vested
interest, so I'm inclined to believe him at a first approximation.)
He said that when prices aren't marked, the merchant's opening gambit
is based on your appearance -- one price for Americans, another for
Israelis, another for Russians, etc. He suggested that the transaction
should go something like this:
Merchant: 220 shekels.
Customer: (walks out of store)
Merchant: I'll make it 200.
Customer: (keeps walking) (Iterate a couple times, until:)
Merchant: 140.
Customer: (turns around)
Merchant: What do you want to pay?
Customer: 80.
Merchant: Come into the store.
This part of the lesson ended there, but that was the gist of it.
His main points seemed to be (1) go way low compared to what
the merchant opens with (none of this 20%-lower stuff), and (2) the
merchant has to make several bumps down before you even bother to
open your mouth. I don't know how well this really works, especially
for tourists, but it was interesting to hear about.
One of the challenges of this trip for me is being one of only a few
single people. We have a family of five, two families of four, two
families of two, and four individuals (not counting my rabbi). When
there's unstructured time, the families tend to go off on their own.
I want to spend time with more than the other three singles (especially
as we don't have identical interests). Today I attached myself to
one of the couples, and I'll probably just have to keep doing that
sort of thing. The families don't, for the most part, invite us --
not because they're rude or anything, but because they're on a family
vacation, I think. And when you've got kids things change anyway.
Don't get me wrong -- I'm enjoying the trip immensely. But sometimes
I'm a little lonely and next time I want to come with a couple pre-made
friends, or Dani if I can get him. Trying to make friendships from
scratch while on the trip doesn't work so well; you need to come
pre-loaded, I think, if you're going to be part of a group like this.
I am in awe, and am a little intimidated, at the load my rabbi is carrying
during this trip. He looks out for all of us and cares very much that
each of us has a good time and gets what we need. People go to him
with their problems, including (based on snippets I've overheard)
things they could and maybe should have solved on their own.
(People who won't even try to RTFM before taking someone's limited
time drive me nuts. There was a lot of this at the group meetings
before the trip -- really, the rabbi is not the best person
to answer your luggage questions; go to the TSA site on your own time.)
But I digress. When during all this does my rabbi get a vacation?
He doesn't. I hope the fees we paid cover his accommodations; for him
to have to pay out of pocket to do this full-time-and-more job would
be wrong.
Someday I hope I can return to Israel with my rabbi and under circumstances
that don't stress him so much. I don't know what those circumstances
would be, though; perhaps this sort of thing is as much a part of the
job for people with lots of trips under their belts too. But I think
his second-time-or-better trip idea is an interesting one, and I hope
he does develop that idea more. I'd go; I like it here and I very much
want to see whatever my rabbi thinks is important for me to see.
Tonight some of us walked to Emek Refa'im for dinner, which is helpful
for me because that's where Shira Chadisha is and I had been in line
at the concierge desk to ask for those directions when someone said
that's where we were going. As it turns out, my rabbi is also planning
to go there Shabbat morning, so I assume I'll have someone to walk
with. Emek Refa'im is a yuppie center and was pretty crowded; we
had to try three restaurants before our group of six could be seated.
My rabbi had to leave early and the other four wanted to wander the
neighborhood and then take a cab back; I decided to try to retrace
the path there and walk back alone. This was my first walk alone here
(except for a quick run to drop off the stained shirt yesterday --
which was not ready tonight as promised, grumble). There is a park
between our hotel and Emek Refa'im, and walking through it alone at
night was peaceful. (Yes, the park is well-lit.) I enjoyed that
tiny bit of time to "commune with Jerusalem" on my own, so to speak.
I think today was the first day that I felt comfortable venturing
out on my own; while I wouldn't have walked to the old city
myself (too complicated), I would have been willing to walk around
in it alone if armed with a map. I didn't have to, but I could have
-- and I wouldn't have earlier in the week. (I am still, however,
not ready to take public transportation.)
After dinner my rabbi spoke with the whole group, mainly about
tomorrow's visits to Yad Vashem (Holocaust memorial) and other
memorial sites. He went over the itinerary for the next few days;
Sunday morning we leave Jerusalem and head south, stopping at the
dead sea for a couple hours, and Monday and Tuesday we're in Eilat.
(We leave Eilat Tuesday sometime; our flight leaves Ben Gurion at
11:30PM.) There's unscheduled time in Eilat, along with a visit
to Kibbutz Lotan, a Reform kibbutz that was (co?-)founded by a relative
of our congregation's cantorial soloist.
I'm starting to learn my way around parts of Jerusalem, and it feels
very comfortable. I have not felt in any danger during my visit here,
except for 30 seconds when someone asked the question and I saw that
I was sitting at one of the first tables inside the door of a
restaurant. (The restaurant had a shomeir, a guard; many places
do. I've only walked through a few metal detectors; most seem to be
doing visual inspections. Makes sense.)
Being immersed in the Hebrew language is an interesting experience.
I understand bits and pieces of overheard conversations but not entire
conversations. I can have the minimal polite conversations that one
has in the street or in shops. I would have ordered at the restaurant
tonight in Hebrew if "sweet potato" hadn't stumped me. (I know potato
is "tapuach adamah", literally "apple of the earth", but "sweet"
stumped me. It's based on the word for "orange", which I don't
remember.)
Instinct will take longer; I definitely have to work to
form Hebrew sentences most of the time, but I'm getting better at
counting (well, prices). But yeah, if I were here for several months
insstead of several days, I think my Hebrew couldn't help but get better
even without the ulpan experience (which I understand is a good idea
for everyone).