I didn't take my computer with me to Tel Aviv, so I'm a couple of days behind. This is unfortunate, because they were a very busy couple of days and it's going to be hard to catch up. But here goes.
First I have to say that the Safer family, Israel division, rocks. Iris (Mike's first cousin, once removed) met me at the train station in Tel Aviv. I wasn't sure how it would go, but aside from the fact that we knew absolutely nothing about each other, I felt so comfortable with her that I might have known her for years. First of all, just that she invited me to come and spend two days with her and her husband is an admirable leap of faith on her part. Second, she devoted so much time and energy to me, and she is just a lovely person.
Anyway, she met me at the train station, and we went first to a place called עץ בעיר (Eitz ba'Ir)—Tree in the City. It's the home and business of a woman and her husband who are environmentalists. They don't have air conditioning, they compost, they recycle everything, etc. She sells organic, recycled, sustainable products. I bought some aloe ointment, some extra-special tahini (made from sprouted sesame seeds—extra healthy), and a couple of recycled-material lunch bags for the girls. The house was very very much like Amy and Mike Zoll's on Martha's Vineyard, even to the mosaic in the bathroom made of broken pieces of china/ceramic. Very nice people, interesting place, and admirable work.
After we left there, Iris and I went to the home of Reuven Rubin, a famous Israeli artist (though I, in my ignorance of most things art-related) had never heard of him. He died in 1974, and his home is now a museum of his work. His paintings show how he saw Israel, and are mostly pretty realistic. He didn't do abstract work. I was very attracted to one of his paintings, Pomegranates on My Window. I'm not sure why, but I felt strongly enough about it that I bought a poster of it. Maybe it's the vibrancy of the colors, which doesn't really come through on the computer screen. I also bought two beautiful books—an abc book and a counting book, both illustrated with his paintings.
After the museum, Iris and I walked through a craft fair with lots of interesting and beautiful things. We stopped at a stand with amazing wooden puzzles—argh, I just realized I don't have their card with their website url. I'll have to get it from Iris. Anyway, the artist was delightful and showed us how the different puzzles and games worked. He carves the wood, and his wife does the drawings on it. Really remarkable stuff.
We had lunch (corned beef sandwiches), then walked through the shuk, which was predictably busy, with lots of great fruits and vegetables. By that time I was pretty tired and hot with schlepping around my overnight bag and my various purchases. We headed back to Iris's house, which is in Ramat Gan, on the border with B'nei B'rak. They have a very nice apartment, a duplex with an outdoor deck upstairs. I was sleeping in the upstairs room, which blessedly has an air conditioner. I took a two-hour nap in the cool room before dinner.
Iris and her husband Yossie's son Hanan and his wife came for dinner (there are three sons—Niv is the oldest, and Hanan and Alon are younger, twins). We had a very nice dinner, even though I started asking Hanan about politics, which he was a bit reluctant to talk about. I was a little persistent, though, because I really want to start getting a sense of how Israelis see the world. I know there are many many different perspectives among Israelis, so I'd like to get as many as I can while I'm here. Once Hanan realized I wasn't looking to argue about politics, rather just wanted to know what he thought (which seemed to be surprising to him), he didn't mind talking about it.
After a delicious sleep in the cool room for the night, Saturday morning Iris and Yossie took me to the Ayalon Institute in Rehovot. The Ayalon Institute is a museum now, but it used to be a kibbutz called Kibbutzim Hill. What made it different from other kibbutzim is that the hill had a secret, underground factory in it that operated from 1946-1948, making Sten gun bullets for use in the War of Independence. There was a secret entrance to the factory in the laundry building of the kibbutz, and 45 workers secretly went underground every day, all day, to make bullets.
What I found most interesting about the tour was the end, when the guide repeated a question he'd asked us to think about earlier: If Zionism is about equality, justice, and peace, how could these kibbutzniks justify making bullets for no purpose other than to kill people? He answered his question by saying first that education is extremely important, and thinking hard about the decisions that you make when they involve using violence. Then he also said that it's important to remember that the Ayalon Institute is one small thing that happened in the whole Zionist movement, just a little piece. He said Zionism is mainly about equality, justice and peace, and he thinks in Israel it's gotten turned around and militarism is too much glorified, and it needs to be turned back around so the military part is the small part, and equality, justice and peace are seen as much bigger and more important. (I'm paraphrasing—he didn't use those words exactly, but that was the point.) It was fascinating to have him suddenly make this overtly political statement at the end of a tour that was very just-the-facts,-folks. In talking to him afterward, Iris and I found out that he is a member of a kibbutz there, or very close to there, which is dedicated to education, and these kibbutzniks provide the tour guides for the Ayalon Institute. Fascinating.
Next we went to visit friends of Iris and Yossie's, Dinah and Shlomo (I think). Their families are Zionists from way back. Dinah told me about her great-grandmother, who was a prominent businesswoman in Poland/Russia in the late 1800s. She had 10 children and supported the family through her business, which was buying and selling lumber. Her husband was a yeshiva bocher (though he had earlier been involved in the Haskalah). In her business travels she saw the results of the pogroms that had begun happening at the time, and she went home and told her husband they had to leave and go to Israel. He said no way. Unable to convince him, she went to the Bet Din (rabbinic court) and said she wanted a divorce. Her husband and the Bet Din said she was nuts to want a divorce and to want to go to Israel. She said (this was all through a representative—as a woman she couldn't appear before the Bet Din herself) that being nuts is grounds for divorce, so she should get the divorce. She got the divorce, took the five kids who were unmarried, and moved to Israel. Her family has been there, in the same town, since then.
Dinah commented that young people today don't know what real Zionism is. I asked, "What is it?" She said that when the Shoah came, the five kids her great-grandmother took to Israel lived, and the five who stayed behind died, "and that's what Zionism is."
Later we were talking about my plans to be a rabbi. She commented on the amount of interfaith marriage in the U.S., saying it's a problem. I, unable to keep my mouth shut (shocking, I know), said I don't think intermarriage is really the problem in the American Jewish community. I think the problem is that we aren't raising our kids to love Judaism and be committed to it and see having a Jewish family as a priority—not because of Jewish continuity, but because it's just the way they want/need to live for themselves. If we were raising our kids that way, it wouldn't matter who they married; they'd still have Jewish homes and Jewish families. And I and my husband are a case in point.
Then I commented that my perspective to some extent reflects the attitude of the movement I identify with, the Reform Movement. She said, "Well, it's better to be Reform than nothing." You know I couldn't let that go. So I said, "As a Reform Jew, I think it's better to be Reform than to be Orthodox, too!" I was a little surprised when she said basically, "Well, sure, who wants to be Haredi?" (They were secular Jews, as are Iris and family.) Anyway, again, fascinating and very friendly people.
When we went back to the house we had some lunch and I had another long and lovely nap. Late in the afternoon, Iris's sister Toby came to visit, with her daughter Vered and Vered's two children, Elah (age 4) and Eitan (almost 3, I think). At the risk of being redundant, they were so nice, friendly, and easy to be with. The kids were tired and not very social, but I got a couple of great photos of them.
After dinner Iris took me to the train and I came back to Haifa. Today I felt well-rested and in a very positive mood about class and life in general, even though I'm missing Mike and the girls quite a lot. We got our midterms back today, and I scored a 93, which I'm pretty proud of. Each of us has to give a brief lecture to our class in Hebrew. Mine is on Thursday, so I started working on it today. I plan to speak about conversion to Judaism, since it's a topic I know quite a bit about and am very interested in. It should also stretch my Hebrew ability, which I hope will be a good thing.
Tonight we saw a movie: The Syrian Bride. I wish there had been a discussion after, because the movie had many layers and references, and I know I didn't understand all of them, just because I don't know enough about the way things work here. Also, it's a complicated movie—nearly every character has his or her own subplot. I did get that the whole end of the movie was an allegory for the peace process (or lack thereof). It was certainly an interesting film, though also kind of sad.
And now I'm up-to-date, and I've got to go to bed.
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