I visited Israel: And This is How It Felt

Here's me at Startup HQ in Tel Aviv. 

I wrote this while sitting on the plane in Israel during boarding. These are the days I miss, when words just spill out of me like the overflowing havdalah cup on Saturday nights. It doesn't always happen like this, but when it does, I know I'm getting close to being back to my happy place. 

When I made aliyah back in 2012, I had two — count 'em two — solid jobs. I was pretty sure that neither would let me go, because both were Jewish organizations and I was, after all, moving to Israel. Then, just a few months after arriving in Israel and meeting Mr. T, I was let go without much ceremony. It was heartbreaking. I got married, I got pregnant, and I was jobless. I picked up some freelance content writing work through connections, I applied for several full-time jobs in the tech sector doing stuff I didn’t want to do, and I turned down a few jobs because I couldn’t handle the soul-sucking possibilities.

I spent the second half of my time in Israel underemployed and mostly broke. It was incredibly depressing and demoralizing. My English was great and a definite plus, but my Hebrew wasn’t good enough to make it in most workplaces.

For the longest time, my biggest worry about returning to Israel has been the financial one. Everyone says where there’s a will, there’s a way, but I refuse to live in poverty, constantly in the red, wondering how I’m going to buy groceries. I’ve done it in Israel. I’ve done it in the U.S. I refuse to do it again — and I refuse to live on credit.

During my trip this past week to Israel, I was supposed to spend a day touring the Old City and Har Ha’Bayit. I found out last minute that I can’t visit Har Ha’Bayit without visiting the mikvah first, and then our rabbi said it was a blanket “no” for visiting anyway. There were three other tracks, and I opted for the one that seemed least attractive: a high-tech day in startup nation in Tel Aviv. Some of the people I’d really connected with on the trip were heading on that track, so I said okay, and we were off.

We met with some really fascinating people (and one guy who wasn’t so fascinating) and I ended up realizing that, since leaving Israel, I’ve acquired quite a bit of experience in fields that could — and should — make me marketable in Israel now.

Not only did I spend nearly two years working for a hardware IoT startup that I took to market, but I’ve also been working in inbound marketing and all it entails as a copywriter and editor. My English is 100, and with the right time and patience, my Hebrew can get back to where it was.

As the tour guide said when I told him my recent experience, he said that people would be doing backflips to hire me. Now’s the time to come back, he said.

My ultimate dream is that Tesla opens an office in Israel and Mr. T can put in for an easy transfer and that my job, in which the entire company is remote, will let me work from Israel as long as is humanly possible. I’m just thinking about all of the potential business my company could acquire in Israel.

My wheels are spinning, and I’m considering carefully and thoughtfully what a return to Israel looks like. It’s so funny that I arrived and spent two or three days thinking to myself that a return to Israel with my three monkeys and husband in tow was an impossibility. And then, at some point, the magic of Israel, of the place, the people, it all hit me hard and I can think of nothing other than a quick return.

So, we’ll see how/where things go. Mr. T would drop everything tomorrow to move back. I, on the other hand, am much more practical and have to consider all the variables — financial chief among them.

And now? Time to buckle up for wheels up on my way back to the U.S. L’hitraot Yisrael (see ya Israel).

---

Here is something I wrote while visiting the Kotel (aka the Western Wall, and please don't call it the "wailing wall"), I wrote this in a moment of overwhelming emotion in which I felt like my breath had been knocked out of me and my heart leapt out of my chest. I was crying, overwhelmed, more so than I've ever been at the Kotel. I don't know what or why, but something was happening. 

Pigeons pining for our prayers

Pecking away at souls they know are there

Digging deeper into walls of stone

Finding comfort in this place we long to call home. 

Heartsick and the breath stolen

From my breast I can’t breath,

I can’t speak, can't see,

Because all there is is stone.

---

Want to ask me something? Click here: Ask away!

Ask Chaviva Anything: Women of the Wall

ANNOUNCEMENT: I am super stoked to say that there will be a Mr. T video coming up in the next few weeks. Brace yourselves for the awesomeness that is my husband. Stay tuned to the YouTube channel and/or here for the video. If you have questions for Mr. T, feel free to ask them in the comments of this post and/or on Ask Chaviva Anything!

And now ... back to your regularly scheduled post ...

I had a question on Ask Chaviva Anything about my thoughts on "Women of the Wall," so I thought I'd go ahead and address it since, for now, the insanity surrounding the group has died down a bit. Although the next time Rosh Chodesh rolls around it will be one more big giant display of Chillul HaShem from both sides of the issue down at the Kotel, which I find hugely disappointing and a shame for Judaism.

Women of the Wall is an organization that has been around since the late 1980s in Israel but only in the past few years has the group come under increased scrutiny after throwing themselves at the media like a 12-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. According to their website, their main goal is

to achieve the right, as women, to wear prayer shawls, pray and read from the Torah collectively and out loud at the Western Wall (Kotel) in Jerusalem, Israel.

As my understanding of the group goes, the group struggled for the ability to do this in legal battles up until 2003, when the group was granted the right to hold their services at Robinson's Arch. In 2009 a complaint was filed and the insanity broke out again, and over the past few years Anat Hoffman and the WoW crew have taken their plight to new media levels. On the WoW website, it says that Anat has dedicated her life to "the Jewish principle of tikkun olam, which literally means repairing the world." But seriously, is what WoW doing repairing the world? At all? In any way shape or form? 

I believe in the right for any person -- Jewish or not -- to express themselves and their religious beliefs in a manner that does not bring physical or emotional harm on others, in a manner that follows a standard of basic human rights, but that also is conscious of the responsibility of one human being on another human being for respect. 

(Also: I have to say that wearing a prayer shawl or tefillin or a kippah or anything like that has never appealed to me, even when I was a Reform Jew being called up for aliyot regularly. I'm a firm believer that equality is a misunderstood concept. Men are not women and women are not men. If men and women could be perfectly equal in the eyes of HaShem or Judaism or any religion, then there would only be one human and that human would be sexless and genderless and everyone would look exactly the same. Unfortunately, that's just not how we were created.)

Do I think that Women of the Wall meet that perspective? Not really, no. Do I think that the violent Haredi mobs that attack WoW meet that perspective? Definitely not. Do I support either side? No, I don't. 

Basically I think both sides are screwing up royally, and, in the process, are making the ritual side of Jewish life look like a joke and making the kotel look like a pagan shrine rather than what it is -- a retaining wall from the time of the fall of the Second Temple. Yes, it's an important site, but good lord we've turned the Kotel into the last thing on earth it was meant to be. We're treating it as if the wall itself holds the shechinah, the dwelling place of HaShem. And if that's how people on both sides of the aisle want to see the Kotel, then I think Judaism has a major, major problem. 

If the Women of the Wall really wanted to do themselves, Judaism, and ritual a favor, they'd go into the Kotel tunnels and hold their service at the space closest to the Holy of Holies. Call me crazy, but it seems to make a whole lot more sense. 

Also, as an aside, I think that their choice of name is just ... sigh ... unfortunate. Historically, women of the wall were prostitutes. Rachav, in the book of Joshua, was a woman of the wall. Prostitutes worked in the city's walls because they would catch travelers going in and out of the city and because for dignitaries it was far enough away from their homes that no one would traverse the seedy area looking for them. 

I know I'm opening myself up for criticism here, and I'm willing to take it. I believe we all connect to HaShem in our own way, in our own time, and I support everyone's right to connect or not connect. For me, what is most important is owning -- 110 percent -- where you are, defining yourself by what you believe and who you are as opposed to what you are not. I think that one of the problems with the Women of the Wall and a lot of very liberal organizations is that they devote themselves to not being Orthodox, to not separating men and women, to not keeping kosher, to not doing this and that. 

It's easy to define ourselves by what we aren't. It's a lot harder to define yourself by who you are, what you believe, and to own it. 

Shabbat in Yerushalayim

Shavua tov! What. A. Shabbat. Where do I begin? Seriously, where!? Last night I spent some time at the home of some good friends and had the most delicious crisp of my life. Also? They had air conditioning, which was stellar and a nice reprieve from the heat I've been dealing with at my apartment. It also was nice to just sit and chat for several hours about everything and anything. It was comfortable, and relaxing, and amazing! Today, I slept in pretty late, had some cereal, and then schlepped off to the Kotel. The amazing thing about living in Jerusalem is that I can just wander aimlessly and at a pace as slowly as humanly possible. I arrived to the Kotel around two something, which means I was able to sort of sit and people-watch and daven for about three hours.  I had some crazy, bananas emotional moments while davening, realizing that I was really, really there. In my Ohel Sarah siddur, there was a special supplication for the Kotel, which I read a few times. There also was a special prayer for finding a zivug, which I read several times. Between Minchah and Ma'ariv, I was reading Pirkei Avot, and came across something 2:20, which gave me some insight into my search for a zivug ... 

Rabban Gamliel the son of Rabbi Yehuda the Prince said, Torah study is good with a worldly occupation, because the exertion put into both of them makes one forget sin. All Torah without work will ultimately result in desolation and will cause sinfulness. 

All who work for the community should work for the sake of Heaven, for the merit of the community's forefathers will help them, and their righteousness endures forever. And as for you, God will reward you greatly as if you accomplished it on your own.

Yes. Work and Torah. Avodah v'Torah. A real mensch does them both, and it keeps him occupied enough so that he doesn't have wandering eyes. So the Kollel guys and the work-only guys and the no-work guys ... no dice.
And then there were a few things that I realized ... things in which I think a PSA is needed!

• The reason people walk backwards away from the kotel is because it's as if you're walking away from a King. It's a sign of respect. Watch some old movies with English royalty and you'll see very much the same. A lot of people didn't seem to know why or for how long you are supposed to walk backwards (seriously? there isn't a limit, but don't run into people!). 
• The scarves that are available at the entrance are to cover your shoulders if you're wearing a tanktop or to cover your hair if you're married. Women were doing all sorts of crazy things with the scarves, but I noticed people of all ages covering their hair with the scarves. I think this is a bit of the confusion between the Orthodox Christian/Muslim/Jewish faith traditions. 

Part of me thinks there should be some kind of sign at the entrance to the Kotel in various languages explaining the traditions, practices, and so forth. What do you think? 

I realized after davening Minchah that there was actually a minyan down toward the Kotel (I was hanging out at the back) where the men stand really close to the mechitzah, allowing women to listen and participate. So when it came time for Maariv, I headed down there, which was nice, because they did a stellar havdalah! Yes, a giant cart pulled into the men's section with bundles of mint, which people passed out and around for havdalah! Talk about nifty. 

What a Shabbat. I saw so many attractive bochurim, so many young frum girls, and realized that I'm so old out here in the dating game. But that's what all the davening was for, right!?

Shavua tov, cheverim!

The Hebrew Index: If you ever have questions, let me know. Or if you want me to blog about any of the words I'm using or concepts I'm sharing, let me know, too! 
davening = praying
Maariv = evening/night prayers
Mincha = afternoon prayers
havdalah = the end-of-Shabbat prayers, separating Shabbat from the rest of the week
mechitzah = the divider that separates the men's and women's sections
bochurim = single guys
frum = Orthodox or observant
cheverim = "friends"
Ohel Sarah siddur = a specific prayer book for women published by Artscrolls
Kollel = that place where guys study after yeshiva -- it's like yeshiva for adults
yeshiva = religious "high school"
zivug = match, or partner
Kotel = the Western Wall, also known as Ha'Kotel Ha'Maarav (kotel = wall)

Public Service Announcement Times Two

Two things, because they've been on my mind a lot lately.

One: Starbucks Frappuccinos are not kosher, period. At all. If you are shomer kashrut, there are a million other drinks you can get at Starbucks that are fine, but Starbucks changed from its coffee base to a creme base last year, and that base no longer is certified kosher. Mmk? Mmk.

Two: The Kotel, aka the Western Wall, is not -- I REPEAT -- not a part of the Second Temple, which was destroyed in 70 C.E. The wall is part of the remnants of the Temple courtyard wall. That is all.

That second one really grates my cheese. We mislead Jewish children in school and on trips to make them think it's a remnant of the Temple, when it isn't. Yes, it may be all we have left, and it's a place of historical value and definitely a place where one can become close with HaShem, but ... well, we've turned it into something it isn't.

Is that good? Is that bad? I don't know. All I do know is that I wish more people knew what it really is.

Shavua tov!

Vespasian and the Western Wall

I've spent the past week and a half stressing out, intensely, about this semester. My stress has largely been in regards to my Talmud class, a subject which I'm well informed on the outer limits of, but of which I have spent little time in the middle. I arrived home today exhausted after spending five hours looking at archives and compiling information on various states and their populations. I ate dinner, and took a nap. I woke up, still tired, stressed out, grumpy, frustrated. I purchased a coffee, came back to my room, and dove in to papers by scholars about reading rabbinics as history, whether the Talmuds contain hardcore, one-place and one-time history, or whether people read them wrong. Perhaps, as it says, the stories tell us more about the people than about the events. Who knows. The papers were sort of dry, sort of uninteresting, very much of the ego-stroking quality. In other words, very dense materials. I decided to put aside some of the academic papers for a packet on Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai and the episode involving his interactions with Vespasian (or Titus?) and the inevitable arrival of the rabbi in Yavneh, which became the hotbed of rabbinic activity in a post-Destruction of the Temple period, where the Oral Torah became what we know of it today.

But, I'll blog about the episode -- and the four different accounts from BT Gittin 56b, Lamentations Rabbah 1:31, and two versions from The Fathers According to Rabbi Nathan -- at another time, because it's incredibly fascinating the subtle and obvious differences between the accounts and how the rabbi approached Vespasian, how Jerusalem fell, how the rabbi and his followers ended up in Yavneh, and the tales therein. But what I wanted to blog about quickly, before I throw myself into bed, is a take on why the Western Wall still stands to this day. It's pretty interesting. This portion comes from Lamentations Rabbah after Vespasian had subdued the city. At this time, he

assigned the destruction of the four ramparts to the four generals, and the western gate was allotted to Pangar. Now it had been decreed by Heaven that this should never be destroyed because the Shechina abode in the west. The others demolished their sections but he did not demolish his. Vespasian sent for him and asked, "Why did you not destroy your section?" He replied, "By your life, I acted so for the honour of the kingdom; for if I had demolished it, nobody would [in time come] know what it was you destroyed; but when people look [at the western wall], they exclaim, "Perceive the might of Vespasian from what he destroyed!" He said to him, "Enough, you have spoken well, but since you disobeyed my command, you shall ascend to the roof and throw yourself down. If you live, you will live; and if you die, you will die." He ascended, threw himself down and died.

An interesting take on why we still have HaKotel HaMa'aravi today, no? There are a few other morsels worth noting, which you can find at this Kotel website. Oh, and for good measure, the photo credit goes to me!

On that note, I'm heading to bed. Midrash will float about my head as I hopefully fall fast asleep. Tomorrow? I get the chance to delve into the topic in class.