Is Co-existence Possible?

You Know You're in the Middle East When...

Mara and I are house/babysitting for friends, and when the Arab electrician came to repair the boiler (hot water heater) I was privy to a unique phenomenon. Ziyad went back out to the car to fetch a part, and his trusty sidekick in broken Hebrew asked if by chance we had a spare prayer-rug as now was tfilah time. "Sure," I offered throwing together a door mat and some newspaper which seemed to make the grade. He then proceed to kneel down and prostrate on the living room floor - despite all the raucous of homework, YouTube, telephones, and of course electric work on the boiler.
This of course has been going on for close to 1400 years, but the question that proceeded to intrigue me is in regard to a hypothetical reciprocal occurrence. Would a religious Jew be able to go in to an Arab/Muslims home [in Jerusalem] and explain that he needed to daven minha? And they would be ok with it? Of course religious Jews have a stigma among Jerusalem Arabs - especially in light of the on going debacle in Sheikh Jarrah, but religious Muslims have no less of a stigma among Western Jerusalem's Jews? What about fear of terrorism? Of course not all Muslims or Arabs are terrorists - not even close. But have all terrorists been Muslim or Arab. Basically, yes. Have there been incidents when service providers, who even maintain a long standing relationship with their clients, turned and committed acts of violence? Unfortunately, there have.
The moral of the story is that maybe, just maybe, last Thursday afternoon we caught a glimpse of co-existence. He finished his prayer, sat entranced momentarily, ate a few cookies that we offered him and packed up. The boiler switch was fixed and the kids who bore witness to the whole thing acquiesced, muttering a "yeah, ok, that was kind of weird, but also kind of cool," and went back to the computer.

PURIM 5770 - Reclaiming Public Spaces

Purim in a Pub was a pretty big success..

So, Gila (a fellow Israeli HUC student) and I decided that it would be cool to organize a Megilah Reading in a pub instead of a local synagogue. Some liked it, some were against, but we are all about trying to bring the Torah to the people. And, strangely enough, the people are not necessarily in synagogue.
Yankee's bar in downtown Jerusalem was packed and the everyone was there from Ahmedinajad to "Heather from Birthright Bus 7."

We read the megillah from Perek Aleph through Yud, played some music and drank a lot.

Everyone left (hopefully) wanting more.

So, the next step will be to set up a monthyl Beit Midrash. Maybe the same pub, maybe not, we'll see. Be on the lookout for "שיעור ושתיה" (A lesson and a drink) coming soon - Rosh Hodesh Iyar to a pub near you!

When it Rains it Pours...
Last weekend I, along with my classmates spent the weekend at Kibbutz Yahel and Lotan in the Arava. As hail and storms flooded the country north of Beer Sheva, we made our way down to clear skies and lucid air.
As we made our way out into the pomello fields all of a sudden a few drops, and then more, and we headed for the van to get out of the pouring rain.
The Arava gets only about 2-3 days of rain a year, and I was lucky enough to be there for it!
As it turns out though, the kibbutz members weren't as thrilled as we were. "It's actually kind of annoying," one said. "The rain is not letting us harvest the fruit, and tourists came hear to have an outdoor picnic." Boohoo.

In all of our discussions with Kibbutz members - from Yahel and Lotan - the most interesting pearl of wisdom that I heard came from Yair, a 23 year old student (who was an EIE student in Chicago). While there is a known phenomenon of formerly religious Jews calling themselves "Datlash" (דתל"ש) or "Dati L'She'avar (or formerly religious); we were now informed of the latest trendy epithet: "Raflash - רפל"ש " for Reformi L'she'avar - formerly Reform. Wow. It has always been a big question as to how the second generation of liberal Jewish olim would turn out - now we have concrete testimony.
I'm not sure whether this actually leaves a hopeful or pessimistic impression of the Israeli Reform movement. On the one hand it might be a good sign to say that something is established enough for people to begin leaving it. On the other we know that it's not, and that the next generation of secular Israelis will likely not affiliate with the movement.
I hate to end on a pessimistic note, but the next entry will be more uplifting.
Here's a cool picture of the date palms of Kibbutz Yahel. (courtesy of Tamir Nir)