That's right. I'm back in Israel, and back to updating this blog with the amusing stories that continue to perpetuate themselves a year into my medical studies here.
To sum up my summer:
-2 days in NYC
-1.5 weeks in Indiana
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-1 week in Michigan
-3 days in NYC
-4 days in Montreal
-1 night in Toronto (Daniel Ostro's wedding)
-3 days in NYC
-4 days in Boston
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-4 days in Indiana
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-2 days in Boston
-5 days in NYC
-2 days (Rosh Hashana) in Connecticut
-1 night in NYC
-Back to Haifa.
Now that I write all of this out, I wonder how I managed all of that traveling without going completely insane. I do not remember sleeping in the same place more than a few nights in a row (at this point, I'd like to give a big thanks to David Walfisch and Jordan Rubinstein's couch, Robert Peach and Joey Abram's couch, Alex and Jason Borschow's couch, Eitan, Nezzy, and Igor's couch, Jason Ruchelsman's couch, The Abrams' guest bed, Susie Gruda's couch, Lily Rossebo's couch, Brett Star's couch, Brett Star's bed [Indianapolis], MIT AEPi's couch, The Kaufman-Gulko's guest bed, Sam Raymond's couch, and Columbia University's East Campus Suite 1212's air mattress for being such comfortable sites to sleep at this summer. I also extend my thanks to the owners of these couches, beds, and air mattresses for welcoming into their homes/apartments/fraternity/suite. If I've left anyone out, I'm terribly sorry, and certainly do not mean any offense by it).
To add a brief reflection of this summer: I had a blast, and while there were times I felt it was dragging on, now that I am back in Israel, I already miss everyone, especially my family.
While I already have some great stories to share, I feel obligated to update all of my faithful and patient readers on changes that have occurred to my basic living situation here in Israel: I moved apartments. Yes, that's right: I left the ornery dude, the entertaining Russian neighbors, and the majestic Mediterranean views behind. It was not out of choice, but out of obligation: my landlord, always one to get the final laugh, sold the apartment, and the new owners wanted to actually live in it. Luckily, I was able to move into an apartment two blocks away with a third-year medical student named Jhon Faro. So far, it has been working out for me. And....I'm only a block away from the sea, so I cannot complain too much.
Since being back, I have been organizing my apartment, hanging out with my friends in Haifa, and celebrating Yom Kippur and (now) Sukkot. Also, I have managed to travel to Jerusalem on the days leading up to Yom Kippur, which was actually quite an adventure. It all started out when I jumped on the train to Tel Aviv, and switched over to the 970 bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. While waiting in line (well...."line" is being very liberal...it was the usual free-for-all with Chassidic Jews, old Israeli Grandmothers, and soldiers elbowing me in the face to get a spot on the bus), I was stopped by an old friend from Indianapolis, Sam Hasten. Not only was this a crazy place to run into him, but a crazy time: he is getting married in a few weeks, and had been trying to get a hold of me anyway to invite me! So, I've got another wedding to go to (the first one being...his cousin's).
After arriving in Jerusalem, I walked over to my favorite bookshop to sell some books and pick up a few new ones, then wandered around Me'ah She'arim and Geulah, where I picked up some other books, as well as a lulav (palm frond, willow branch, and myrtle branch) and etrog (citron) [the combination of these four "species" are called the "Arbah Meenim," which are traditionally bought for the holiday of Sukkot, and are symbolic of many, many ideas and concepts, though the symbolism that resonates most with me is that they represent the four different "kinds" of Jews, and in bringing them together on Sukkot, we are expressing our hope of Jewish unity in the coming year]. I then went to go meet up with my friend Matt Cons, who is going to be doing his Masters at the Technion this year, though is currently doing Ulpan in Jerusalem, and when I found out that he had never been to Tmol Shilshom, I took him there right away (I was also a bit hungry, so it worked out for both of us).
Since I was carrying all of my new books and my lulav and etrog (which are quite bulky), we decided to drop them off at Matt Cons' apartment in the Nachloat neighborhood. On our way to his house, we noticed a few people ducking into a side alley in the Machane Yehuda Shuk, and we decided to investigate where these people were going at 10 pm in the market, since it appeared to be mostly closed at this point. In doing so, we stumbled into a medium-sized courtyard full of people...and chickens. Since this was the night before Yom Kippur, these people were performing Kapparot, the ancient tradition that consists of saying a Psalm, swinging a chicken above your head, having the chicken ritually slaughtered, and then donating the chicken to charity. The mystical tradition is that, in swinging the chicken over your head, the chicken takes up your sins, and then subsequently is slaughtered to atone for these same sins. Many Rabbis (including the Rambam) have spoken out against this practice, noting chiefly that it smacks of pagan traditions. However, other Rabbis disagreed, arguing that the tradition could help one focus his thoughts on his wrongdoings in the past year, as well as reflect on one's own mortality (in seeing the chicken die), also noting that charity is good for repentance. Thus, Kapparot is still carried out in more religious neighborhoods throughout the world.
Me questioning my own, and the chicken's, mortality (10/7/08).
Having now performed Kaparot, I'm going to have to go with the Rambam on this one: the whole thing made me feel slightly uncomfortable (though that could have also been the terrible smell of hundreds of chickens). Also, when I told my mother I had performed Kapparot, she made me feel guiltier than I had felt before the (supposedly repentant) ceremony.
After this, we got back to Matt Cons' apartment, I put my stuff down, and we asked his roommate for recommendations for a good local bar. She recommended a place call "Slow Moshe" (it's funny if you say it out loud, which was good enough for me). We wandered around the labyrinthian streets of Nachlaot, unable to find this bar with the slightly-funny name. We came to the Eastern-most edge of the neighborhood (actually right by my favorite bookstore), and we noticed a huge crowd outside a seemingly nondescript bar. A crowd outside a bar might be a normal sight in NYC or even Tel Aviv, but it just doesn't really happen in the Holy City of Jerusalem. As we approached the bar, I expressed my surprise that there was such a crowd, especially since there wasn't even a band playing, since we could hear what sounded like Matisyahu's latest CD being played. Except, as we got closer, we realized it wasn't a CD, but Matisyahu himself, who had apparently shown up at the bar with his guitarist and just decided to play; since the bar had large windows that they had opened, many people who were too late to fit into the small bar had congregated outside the bar to listen to the spontaneous concert.
Now, this would have been remarkable enough to tell about, but something even crazier happened. Now, I know what you are thinking: what could POSSIBLY be crazier than seeing Matisyahu in concert in a tiny bar in Jerusalem? Well, I know it will be hard to believe (especially those of you who have spent some time in Boston, and have partaken of the El Dorado of Israeli food that is Rami's), but I saw.....CHAIM COHEN, aka The Rami's Guy! That's right! I saw Chaim Cohen, the son of Rami Cohen, who runs the only kosher Israeli restaurant in Boston. And not only did I see him, but we hung out and talked for a bit. If only I had a camera to have taken a picture to prove that such a meeting took place. I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it. It happened.
After that, Matt Cons and I met up with some other Boston students we saw at the impromptu Matisyahu concert and went to a cool little bar off of Kikar Zion for a few drinks. We then went back to Matt Cons' apartment, and watched part of the Presidential Debate, which promptly put both of us to sleep.
So that's all I've got for now. I hope everyone is having a *very* happy Sukkot (one of the Torah's names for Sukkot is "Zman Simchateinu" or "The Time of Our Happiness"). If you have the time, I recommend finding a Sukkah to sit in, and a lulav and etrog to swing around. And be happy!!!
Joyfully,
Michael
