Feet on the ground, head in the clouds

Although each day brings its own opportunities to learn about my surroundings and become increasingly accustomed to patterns of life, I can report attaining a new stage of awareness having completed "Orientation Week".  Our cohort reached full strength - 33 in number - and we shared a series of programs to become better acquainted with one another, our campus, and our host city.
Orientation began with discussions about Hebrew and culture shared with members of the administration and HUC alumni.  This happened to fall on July 4th, but of course Independence Day is not a widely observed holiday among my neighbors.  To add even more humor to the situation, several faculty members are of British origin and provided their own hearty well wishes.  I don't believe I have experienced Independence Day outside the U.S. before, but fear not, I still got my fireworks fix in honor of Ramadan.

כִּי מִצִּיּוֹן תֵּצֵא תוֹרָה, וּדְבַר יְיָ מִירוּשָׁלָֽיִם

Another highlight from orientation week included conducting an anthropological observation of life in Jerusalem.  In a place replete with historical significance, it was notable to speak with the shopkeepers and residents about their relationships with the landmarks they pass everyday.  We discovered that they experience these evocative places so often that they lose significance.  This growing tolerance is a natural part of human nature, but it leads to a necessary question.  Is it better to keep our most important relics and sentimental reminders close at hand or out of sight to be examined only during special moments?  Does a wedding ring worn daily lose its meaning? Is the Sefer Torah best left concealed in the ark until sacred moments and rituals require its use?  Should I decorate my home with reminders of things I do not value and squirrel away my mementos and keepsakes?

Orientation posed many such questions as we got a taste of some of our experiences to come.  I may have learned much during the various sessions on the meaning of history vs heritage, Israel-Palestinian relations, and several dvrei torah, I but I'm certain I came to know how much I do not yet know.  Eventually, we wrapped up the week with a wonderful havdalah during which everyone shared their own blessing.  Havdalah has consistently been one of my favorite ceremonies to observe at camp, during Avodah, and with so many Jewish communities.  It is clear that my fellow classmates also hold the ceremony dear and that they are not afraid of singing out - the passion and volume of song rings in my ears still now, 24 hours later.

Photo Cred: Josh Gischner

Springs in Summer

Apparently, even if I don't post as frequently, the pace of life here in Jerusalem does not slow.  We are nearing the end of the first ulpan chapter, which means it is time to welcome more friends to our cohort. Luckily there is ample opportunity to invite newcomers along on adventures.

Rabbis in training can get up to some monkey business

Last week a few of us went out to the Jerusalem Peace forest to hike among the maayanot - fresh springs that collect in small pools.  These oases are especially surprising to encounter along the side of a steep mountain, mostly populated by scrubby vegetation, dusty paths, and rocky caverns.  We made our way down one declivity, passing wild herbs, cacti, and scuttling lizards, then climbed up the other side.  Sure enough, like a mirage, soon we came upon the first spring.  The hiking trail we followed was desolate of fellow wanderers, but the green-tinged waters of the pool were crowded with swimmers.  Intern Udi reassured us that this was not the only one, so on we hiked.  Looking down into the lee of the summit, one can see Hadassah hospital, small villages, and the tops of the trees making up the rest of the forest.  The foliage is thick and mature in the valley, but from above one can see the unnatural orderliness characteristic of manual planting.  I am reminded how, despite the history of so many places here, other parts of this nation are still fledgling.

Hiking under the watchful sun, we earned a suitably sweaty countenance by the time we reached the next spring.  This one was less populated and we decided to test the waters.  Cold, certainly, but refreshing.  Living waters that they are, we were tempted to hold a mikvah.  Other patrons included families with young children, groups of young adults with barbeques, and dirt bikers - naturally we blended right in.

Later, after everyone had a chance to dry off and collect themselves, we retreated to one of the caverns to discuss the week's parshah.  Chukat (appropriately for our setting) centers on issues of water conservation among the Wandering Jews in the desert.  Perhaps their anxiety stemmed from their impending entrance to the Holy land?  We reflected on the theme of being on a precipice; the fear of what is to come or simply not knowing what that could be. For me, I am not scared, but I am certainly more than a little apprehensive.  Here I am starting something I know to be big and to have a significant influence on the person I continually become.  In taking on this academic and spiritual task, I am effectively making a commitment.  This is difficult for me in an age when the taste-sized ice cream spoons of life are ubiquitous and alluring.  Thankfully, I find affirmation in the discussions we have held so far and the casual interactions our team has shared.

Speaking of ice cream, we celebrated our victorious day with gelato at First Station. I don't know if it was due to the heat, the rigor of our excursion, or the fine company, but as my Pha always says: "Everything tastes better when you eat it outside."

"Spring forward, Fall back"