Everything in this country is
fascinating. Whether it's the people, the cobble stoned streets, the stores, or
even the parks, the entire country has a slightly different way of viewing the
world and being viewed by others.
Wandering
the streets of Jerusalem with some of my new friends (Jeff and I have taken to
going to the shuk often and then meandering before or after we get there to
learn more about the city), I see these rather assertive Israelis waiting
calmly for a light to change, signaling for them to cross the street and am
shocked. Instead of acting like New Yorkers who cross the street no matter what
is going on in the street, as long as a taxi or bus was not shooting through
the crosswalk. Even stranger is that these Israelis will cross the street at crosswalks
without the little man telling them what to do, but do so by just walking into
the street and waiting for cars to stop, which they do, and then the individual
crosses the street and goes on with their day. Such a discrepancy!
Israelis
have personalities much like Czech people, at least as I’ve seen. But first, by
virtue of the fact that I am a girl, I get paid attention by a veritable
plethora of individuals here. The men stare as I cross the street, and then
women are rather friendly in passing. The only people who do not bestow
kindness upon me are the Orthodox men, who view me as impure and not someone
worthy of prayer/equal in prayer. Walking in the shuk, Jeff is often asked by
Orthodox men to lay t’fillin. He abstains every time, knowing how much it
upsets me that I am not considered worthy of doing so or even someone who could
lay. Yesterday, as we were shopping for Shabbat, I commented on my anger at
being dismissed and that I wanted to lay t’fillin, so Jeff said he’s buy me
some. That pissed me off even more, because I can’t even BUY them, because
women wouldn’t have any need for them, would they?
However,
Israelis are for the most part nothing like these people who refuse to
acknowledge me now, and will definitely not acknowledge me in five years, once
I am ordained. They are wonderful, effusive people who choose to speak Hebrew
with me when I request it and try to rip me off in the shuk (part of that is
that I don’t speak perfect Hebrew so it feels as if I am almost asking to be
ripped off. Soon I’ll know enough to have a legitimate conversation and
therefore be able to haggle and ACTUALLY understand when someone isn’t giving
me a fair deal (or when I am not giving someone a fair deal)). Honestly,
although I am not being given the benefit of the doubt and therefore being
subjected to traditional American standards (that I am a dumb American and easy
to rip off), I still love the shuk. The prices are cheaper then any
supermarket, and the atmosphere there is so ebullient. Going up to a shop, finding
the vegetables or fruits that I want and then having to wait because the
shopkeeper is too immersed in conversation with his neighbor is one of the
loveliest experiences. Not because I am being kept waiting, but because I am
seeing real Israelis in action, the people who cannot be bothered by their
livelihood to stop discourse with a friend. That is one of the meanings of
peoplehood and culture of Israel. Plus, people are rushing around, trying to
find what they want, pushing through the throng with a bubbe cart or elbow,
only aware of their mental list and then getting home in time to cook dinner.
Car
drivers are a completely different story. They drive like maniacs, only to stop
for people in the light-less crosswalks. They find the smallest space they can
possibly fit into, in order to get where they are going the fastest. Horns honk
at all hours of the night, resounding in my apartment and furthering
congestion, rather then alleviating it.
Of
course, not all aspects of the city are endearing. The streets often smell of
urine and poop litters the sidewalks (as well as actual litter). People do yell
and are often unwilling to communicate with me as a foreigner. I am treated as
dumb, rather than just someone who knows the language. And I always get looks
for speaking English too loudly.
However,
this city has very quickly become a place that I consider home. I feel
comfortable here. The atmosphere is one that cultivates Judaism, although not
necessarily religiously. No matter someone’s religious upbringing, he or she
speaks Hebrew and can easily access Talmud or Mishna without a second thought
(besides the actual thought of understanding and digesting such an ancient
manuscript). The people are in general a wonderful people and the tradition
that has been cultivated for years captures me and connects me to both my past
and my future, leading me into a further sense of the world/my world.
I
love this country. Living here might be a stretch and my Hebrew is definitely
not up to par as of current, but I love being here. The language is beautiful
and I am learning more each day. Becoming a Rabbi seems to be the right choice.
At least I eat up the learning and language. The other, more introspective
stuff will come hereafter, no?
No comments:
Post a Comment