This past week has been saturated with solemnity, but also jam-packed with joy. That’s just how it works here in Israel. As of now, we have concluded this year’s high holidays of Israel’s civil religion (Yoms HaShoah, HaZikaron, and HaAtzmaut), a rollercoaster ride of somber reflection and care-free celebration. My Israel-themed week began on Monday, when I decided to rise from bed at the crack of dawn (well 8:00 AM) and bus over to the Israel Museum in Jerusalem. I had heard wonderful things about this place and thought that it would be very befitting if I patronized its halls before the week’s festivities began. Most buildings in the city are carved out of Jerusalem stone. I live in the Land of Beige. But the museum’s architecture starkly contrasted with the any commonplace structure of Yerushalayim. It is outlined by sharply edged, shiny metal and looks straight out of The Jetsons.
I entered into the building and quickly made my way over to the Dead Sea Scrolls. These ancient holy parchments, which date back to the Second Temple Period, are preserved in fantastic condition and serve as a special treasure of the museum. My favorite exhibit was the Ancient Canaanite and Greek archeological displays. When I attend educational forums like these, I always find myself humbled by the holes in my knowledge of world history, and it is always a joy to fill these holes. I also had the pleasure of running through the classic and impressionist art exhibits, and this brought back fond memories of my trip to the d’Orsay and the Louvre (although the Israel Museum presented these genres as a two-fer). And I was pleasantly surprised to find an impressionist painting of the Tuileries!
Tuesday night marked the commencement of Yom HaZikaron, the Memorial Day for Israeli soldiers who have fallen in combat. To commemorate this day, thousands of people (including myself and some friends) flocked to the Kotel for the opening ceremony which featured a speech by former Prime Minister and current President Shimon Peres. The entire service was conducted in Hebrew, and since my depth of Hebrew language skills remains quite paltry, I stood there with my thoughts to myself. If I were able to comprehend these words, I probably would have derived more meaning from the experience, but nonetheless, I appreciated the opportunity to hear President Peres speak on Memorial Day. And I took solace in the recital of Kaddish and Hatikvah, both of which the entire crowd was able participate in.
The next day, I again arose at the crack of dawn (6:45 AM, I wasn’t even aware that this time existed) to embark on a Yom HaZikaron field trip with my fellow Spring in Jerusalem students. We toured much of the Greater Jerusalem area, stopping at sites marking important battle grounds, listening to stories of the War for Independence, and visiting the resting places of some of the most prominent figures in Israel’s history such as Golda Meir and Yitzchak Rabin.
We arrived back at the student village at nearly 5:00 PM, at which time, I showered, ate a bit, and geared up for another epic party thrown by Hebrew U. The vast dichotomy between Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzmaut presents sort of an awkward transition. Within hours, I went from reflecting at the grave of Golda Meir, to engaging in inebriated shenanigans on the streets of Mamilla mall. But Independence Day follows immediately in the wake of Memorial Day, and these contrasting acts exist as the norm during this week. Like the Purim party thrown by Hebrew U a few months prior, this event was an exhibition of crazed tomfoolery. It was a beautiful night, and spirits were high. We were all eager to celebrate Israel’s birthday. To 64 and many more! L’chaim!
Thursday afternoon saw masses making their way over to Gan Sacher (Jerusalem’s rendition of Central Park, only Israel-sized). Tens of thousands partook in this day by grilling, tossing frisbees, and relaxing with friends and neighbors under the sun. I got to throw a football around for the first time in months! It made my day. As I said before, I thoroughly adore the 4th of July, and this day helped console my woes of not being able to be there for ‘Merica later in the summer.
On Friday afternoon, I had the great fortune of meeting up with Zac Miller, a great friend and fraternity brother of mine who is in Jerusalem now spending two years in Yeshiva. We lunched over Italian food and conversed on times of old and new. It is such a pleasure to meet up with Zeebs here in J’lem.
I feel that it is almost needless to mention the great Shabbos dinners I have now. It can be fairly assumed that at the end of each week, I eat at the house of some benevolent family who graciously welcomes my friends and I into their home and pampers us over a delicious ten course meal. This week we ate at the residence of Rabbi Shlomo Gestentner and his large, amiable family. The dinner provided cheers and philosophical discussion. What more could I ask for?
Next weekend, I am leaving Jerusalem on a trip to witness firsthand the remnants the horrific atrocities committed in Poland during the Holocaust. I will once again ride from high to low to high to low. I am mortified by the prospects of what I will view in the camps, but I look forward to the chance to really connect with those who lost their lives during the war and internalize what it meant to pain through these camps, day in and day out.
Until then, have a fantastic week,
Zac
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