Rachel's Children Have Come Home

Thursday night is a festive gathering with Emanuel young people at Ima restaurant on Agrippas street. Julia Rosenberg, Erik Schulwolf and Shayna Rudolph joined in for a very enjoyable evening. Julia and Erik are here for a six month stay with the Rothberg School of the Hebrew University. This program allows students to study at Hebrew University, take and Ulpan for Hebrew language and have various experiences in Israel as part of their undergraduate university curriculum. Erik is here from Amherst College and Julia from Cornell. Each of them related positive personal impressions of their first two weeks, in particular the lively nature of the Hebrew classes and the opportunity to meet and get to know Israeli students. The overseas students are in dorms mixed in with Israeli students.

Shayna Rudolph is an Olah Chadashah, a new Israeli Citizen. Shayna has been here one and one-half years. She speaks with candor of the challenges of being a new immigrant. She also reflects with pride on the accomplishments that have come with the challenges. Shayna values being a contributing member of society. She has a solid job in the tech industry, shares an apartment with other olim in a nice area of Southern Jerusalem, and participates in neighborhood activities, including tefillah at a local synagogue. Many of the alumni from her Ulpan Etzion group stay in touch with each other and celebrate birthdays, weddings and other passages together. Becoming an Israeli is a work-in-process, and Shayna does not shrink from that work. The pioneer Zionist settlers beleived that work builds the character. They intended work in the fields, but the same principle holds in an urban setting. Theodore Herzl envisioned this as well. An American woman coming to Jerusalem to live and work is another fulfillement of Herzl's dream.

Julia, Erik and Shayna, each in their own way, have made postive Jewish choices that are encriching their lives and shaping their characters in lasting ways. Israel is like no other place for cultivating the existential growth of Jewish people. I am an Echad HaAm Zionist, in the sense that I beleive there is an important contribution to Jewish life culture and destiny to be made by Jews who live in "Chutz la-Aretz." Yet there is a quality to the existence here that is unique, stimulating and uplifting. For all the challenges and troubles, the beauty, excitement and deeply meaningful context of life in Israel are unparalleled. Only six days into this visit, I feel the heartbeat of my own soul coming to life.

Friday, Gabrielle and I took a trip to the open-air market of Machaneh Yehudah. The clamor, color, variety and energy of the crowds is intoxicating. For Shabbat we went to the Guest House at historic Kibbutz Ramat Rachel. Ramat Rachel sits on the far Southern edge of Jerusalem, a high outpost overlooking the Judean desert to the East and the town of Bethlehem to the South. The kibbutz was built and destroyed three times from 1926 to the 1970's. Today it is a prosperous settlement that thrives on its organic cherry orchard, Guest House hotel, real estate sales and other enterprises. Facing the entrance to the Guest House is a sculpture, carved in 1945 of Rachel bringing her children Home. This Rachel is strong and resolute, along the lines of the French Liberte, yet maternal. A boy and girl cling to her legs, the girl holding a dove and the boy gripping a sheaf of grain. Over Shabbat, Gabi and I met two groups of young people coming on Aliyah. One group was from all over France and Belgium. The other group comprised six different youth movements from Australia. These young people radiated vitallity, freshness and inspiration. We came for a quiet Shabbat in a beautiful spot; we witnessed the story of our people unfolding, in sight of the tomb of our mother, Rachel. Rest well Rachel, your children have come home.

We Are Not Strangers; Gedera and the Kotel

Wednesday public transit offered a quick ride down to the town of Gedera to visit cousin Dov and Shirley. Dov comes for a rendezvous at BILU junction. Even a simple highway interchange brings history to life. A passenger on the bus explains that BILU stands for "Beit Yaacov Lechu v'Nelcha"; "House of Jacob, go forth!", the slogan of one of the first pioneer organizations to bring Jews to resettle and farm the land in the 1800's and early 1900's. Only in Israel does one expect a lesson in Jewish history from a complete stranger; and yet we are not strangers, we are all kin. That is one of the purposes of this place.

Dov and Shirley are a wonderful couple. They personify the story of Israel. Dov and Shirley came on Aliyah at the beginning of the State; Dov from Hungary and Shirley from England. Their lives together span the rise of this country. They raised three sons and now have ten grandchildren. One son is in the Foreign Service, one is an engineer for Israel Aircraft industries and one is a telecommunications exeutive and computer expert. One daugher-in-law is a internet researcher, one is an artist and one is an officer in the Police. They live in a modest but beautiful home in the small town of Gedera, North of Ashkelon, South of Tel Aviv, and now in range of Grad missiles. Their home is bounded by trees and gardens. But the dry winter has left the gardens parched. We talk and catch up on news of our families, the "situation" and swap stories and anecdotes. They share a hearty and acerbic sense of humor that is a pleasure. Their hospitality and affection is open and deeply sincere. There is not a shred of put-on about them.


It is warm, clear and sunny in Israel and cool in the evenings. Today was a great day for a walk to the Kotel for prayers and to place some notes from a person in Connecticut in the cracks in the Wall. There was time for prayers for family, self and prayers for healing for all those in the Emanuel Family who are ill. A pleasant young bearded man named Shmulie at the Chabad Tefillin booth called out to passers by to put on tefillin. He offered a tallit and tefillin and siddur and upon hearing the words, Hartford, Connecticut he sent regards to Rabbi Shaye Goppen, whom he new from student days. Before leaving, he offered some conversation and reflection on his life in outreach.



Later I returned to the Kotel plaza with Gabrielle. We witnessed the swearing in of a unit of newly trained IDF soldiers at the completion of basic trainng. "Rookies," as a more experienced soldier who looked barely older than twenty said as he swaggered by with his buddies. These new soldiers are boys and girls my daughter's age. I felt a surge of pride and a tinge of sadness as these young people stood to share their role in defense of our people and their nation. The parents of the soldiers being sworn in were standing along the railing, along with siblings and grandparents. Each soldier in turn marched forward, recieved a gun then a tanakh (bible) and exchanged salutes with an officer. The recruits stood in ranks with the Israeli flag in the middle and the Western Wall, Kotel, in the background. A speaker reminded the troops that this is TuBishvat season, a day rooted in the land of Israel. This is a fitting time, he said, for them to affirm their own roots in the land of Israel and devote themselves to the defence and building up of the Jewish People in this land. Hatikvah played, the soldiers at attention. Next to us, the parents of one soldier hugged. The mother sang the anthem and patted the hair of her young daughter standing in front of her, watching the older brother begin his official army service. It appeared a moment filled with pride and sadness. As the swearing in ceremony ended, the son approached the family and recieved their embrace. The mother cried with what looked to be a mix of happiness, sadness and concern. At that very moment I felt I was witnessing the end of his childhood and the beginning of an adult life. In those steps from the parade ground to the family, he made that passage. An announcer thanked the families of the soldiers and reminded them that they could obtain a DVD of the ceremony near the exit to the Kotel plaza.



Ancient temple walls and DVD's, M-16's and Hebrew Bibles; up in the Jewish Quarter, young men and women sit on benches in the public square, tapping into laptop computers next to a stone olive press from the Second Temple Period. Yes, the Old City has wi-fi! Across the square, a massive stone-faced synagogue building rises. It is being built in the spot of the Hurveh Synagogue that was demolished by Jordanian artillery in 1948.



Later, we had dinner with a few North American students on programs in Israel before starting college. Dinner was at an old villa just off of Yafo Street called Beit Ticho. The villa was purchased from a wealthy Arab by a Doctor Ticho and his wife. The doctor made the lower floor a community medical clinic for all to use, and his wife made the upper floors their quarters and her painting studio. The veranda and gardens were a salon of sorts for intellectuals, political leaders and local personalities to gather for over forty years. Now the house is operated by the Israel Museum as a gallery and restaurant. We sat for several hours on the terrace under the trees and stars. The mild night allowed a brisk walk back to Baka.



One of the American teens I spoke with commented on the degree of responsibility and service Israeli teens experience, especially in comparison with most North American teens. Yet, as the soldiers took their guns, she felt a twinge of sadness as she regarded the reality of violence in this world. I dream of a world in which the The Jewish people can live in peace with all people around us. The swearing-in ceremony included the prayers, "Lo Yisa Goy el-Goy Herev, Lo Yilmedu Od michamah" "Nation shall not lift up sword against nation/nor shall they learn war any more." This verse from the prophets was joined by "Oseh Shalom," the prayer for peace. I wonder if any other military includes these prayers in their inductions?



The Jerusalem Post reports signs of trouble and hope. The IDF prepares to retaliate for the killing of a border patrol soldier by Hamas;paper the Vatican revoked the excommunication of a prominent Catholic Churchman and Holocaust denier; The U.S. will be "reaching out" to Iran and Syria; George Mitchell, US Middle East Peace envoy is in the region; Denmark has signed an agreement with an Israeli company to establish a network of electric cars and rechargers; a rebuilding New Orleans finds a new emphasis on solar energy, hybrid city buses, organic community gardens and bicycle paths; special assistance for homeowners to insulate their homes. (Could Hartford be next?).

Israel--When Worlds Collide

Jerusalem, Israel, Tuesday Morning, 12:23 a.m. Holy City Time

Viewed through the El Al jet's window, ocean waves wash up on the shore; green fields glitter off to the right as the aircraft swoops down. The heart quickens. Worlds collide. After landing, modern moving walkways guide travellers down wide, stately ramps cutting-edge in design
and construction. Yet the flow of people on the ramps, and the stone facing on the walls creates echoes of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem at pilgrimage season. Shining glass and rough-hewn pink\gold Jerusalem limestone; ancient and modern; rock and green plants, cool morning air and warm sun, blue sky, and smoke, they are all present here in Israel, in a heady mix and contrast. Nothing is half way. On the surface, so much seems in conflict, but from another perspective, perhaps a dynamic harmony exists?

Someone once said that Israel is the newest of places and the oldest of places.
On the shared taxi-van ride from Ben Gurion International Airport to Jerusalem, the contrasts keep coming. Skirting traffic jams on Highway 1, our driver takes the Northern route, highway 443, heading upwards and Eastward, past seemingly ageless Arab towns and villiages on the left, and the spanking-new Israeli boom-town of Modi'in on the right. Minarets rise to the left, construction cranes to the right. Steel power grid towers jut skyward, anchored in terraced olive groves cut into the hillside two thousand years ago.

Israel contains many worlds at one time.

As we near the checkpoint just past the Tomb of Samuel the Prophet, we are within Jerusalem City Limits. Two passengers in the van, a young husband and wife, ask to be dropped off on Yishayahu Street, (Isaiah Street). The next passenger, a young soldier toting his M-16, requests the Ministry of the Interior in the city center. Climbing the ridge Eastward towards the morning sun's glare, the van turns right. We enter the city by the Ramot Road. For much of the trip, the security fence was on our left. Mostly wire fence and patrol roads, this fence is one reason that Route 443 is safe and passable. Seven years ago, during the Second Intifada, Palestinian rocks and gunfire drove Jewish traffic away from this road. Today, no one even blinks. Drivers main concern is the heavy traffic.

Coming from the North, we pass through ultra-religious neighborhoods of Sanhedria and Meah Shearim. The streets are clogged with cars and trucks, and the sidewalks teem with men, women and children, most of them striding, purposeful in the brisk morning air. Book stores, yeshivas and synagogues adorn the streets between apartment buildings, food and appliance stores. The hum of modern commerce meets piety. On a balcony, three teenage girls hold small books and sway in prayers. One stops, looks down and smiles and waves to someone passing by. A women dressed in long skirt, overcoat and headscarf nods her head silently, ipod earbuds in her ears. What is she hearing? A Hebrew billboard touts the latest edition of Talmud Tractate Bava Batra. And English flyer offers weekly trips to Hebron and Rachel's Tomb. Another poster promotes "Heimishe Tours."

Moving into the city, the van weaves through 19th-century buildings with a European look to them. Remnants of colonial outposts, the Russian compound buildings now are woven into the government infrastucture. Above these mildly exotic relics of an earlier age, modern business towers cut the sky. Cranes are working, even in this recession. Earth is moved, concrete is poured, steel is laid. In Mamilla, just West of the Old City walls: "On this site, The Palace--of the Waldorf Astoria Collection, completion in 2010." Another massive luxury hotel and residential complex on the way. It will join "King David's Crown," "The David Citadel Hotel" and the "Mamilla Project." Since the days of David, Solomon, Herod the Great, and Suleiman the Magnificent, successive builders and developers have vied to leave their mark on this city. Successive generations seek to bring the City of Gold "up to date." I squirm in the presence of these sleek retail/residential complexes, stores that seem more at home on Rodeo Drive than on King David Street: TommyHilfinger, The North Face, up-scale jewelers and Havana Cigars. The inexorable drive of commerce intrudes upon more romantic notions of a timeless city. (And yet, Jerusalem has served as a commercial and retail hub since the days of the Jebusites. And why do one-hundred-year old residential/commercial buildings seem more authentic than those built today? Still, something seems off about the luxury mall just below the Old City walls. This contrast holds no charm. It feels like mixing milchigs and fleishigs.

Alighting in the Southern neighborhood of Baka, details emerge, signs of change: a bistro here, a tony botique that had not been there three years ago, more, newer automobiles. Baka consists of many pre-1948 buildings in Arab style, some renovated, with new construction filling in between them. The hotel is one of these renovated homes. An air of youth and hipness is apparent in the neighborhood's inhabitants and in the stores, coffee bars and patisseries they frequent. Young students stride past homes for the elderly, luxury dwellings rise next to empty lots (though there are fewer and fewer of these). The contrasts abound, and here they feel right.

A brisk walk back into town, past City Hall and the Old City walls leads to Lifeline for the Elderly to deliver tzedakah funds and schmooze with Nava Ein Mor, the Director. Lifeline provides dignified work, hot meals, community and a bus pass to over three hundred elderly men and women in Jerusalem. The workers rebind books, make cartons, and create handmade Judaica gift items of great beauty. Nava, a kind and dynamic person wonders aloud how to reach American synagogue gift shops to form alliances and increase sales. She muses about the prospect of budget cuts in an uncertain economy. If her aged workers are laid off, they never come back. And this work literally helps keep them alive and getting out of bed each morning. Some of the regulars are now in their ninteties.

Evening brings Dinner at a kosher Turkish restaurant with our eldest daughter and a loud, exciting basketball game between HaPoel Yerushalayim and Migdal. The local basketball fans pound drums, ululate, wave red-and-white banners, sing and shout. During timeouts, teenage cheerleader/dancers sashay through their routines. The man in the seat next to me has one empty sleeve in his sweater. I wonder how he lost his arm. HaPoel Yerushalayim wins handily. The din fills the hall. We head for the exits and a busride through the Talpiyot Industrial District back to Baka. Through the bus windows, the lights of the Mount Gilo neighborhood gleam in the background. Bethlehem lies just beyond the crest.

Dizzy with the contrasts, the motion and emotions of the day, I close this first entry. Please feel free to share your thoughts. Shalom from Yerushalayim.--David J. Small