Main page | May 2007 »

Festivities

Last time I wrote, Memorial Day’s gravity was soon to give way to Independence Day’s festivities. On Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut), a great many Jerusalemites head to the parks of the city, set up their grills, and fill the air with the scent of cooking meat. Elie and I, party poopers and allergic as we are, wanted nothing more than to avoid the smoke. We drove around the city. We even drove through ultra-Orthodox Meah Shearim where the people do not believe Israel should exist as a state until the Messiah comes and where they do not grill on Yom HaAtzmaut.

(Needless to say, it was an odd way for us to celebrate; or, not to celebrate. I would do it differently next time.)

Finally, having somewhat avoided the smoke-filled air, we returned home, ate dinner, and started to watch a movie. At about 10:30, the doorbell rang. We looked at each other. We weren’t expecting anyone. We paused the film and answered the door. There before us was a young fellow, maybe twenty or so, very excited, speaking Hebrew very quickly, gesticulating madly with one hand clasping the handle of a large gray bucket. We were a bit slow to respond so he just looked to the right and to the left and sprinted to our kitchen sink.

Someone had, obviously, thrown out live coals (they were only mostly dead). Now the large plastic garbage bins outside our building were on fire. This fellow was visiting nearby when he saw the smoke. Our apartment is on the ground floor, and so he rang the bell for the use of our sink.

The fellow carried out his bucket; Elie ran out with another. One of the bins had melted to the ground; the other was on its way. Elie grabbed the hose from our yard. This was more efficient than buckets and Elie was able to put out most of the fire. Finally, someone from our building arrived with the key to the fire hose in the building. With this extra dousing, the final embers were extinguished.

The smoke lingered outside our building for an extra day. Go figure.

Families grilling and celebrating on Yom HaAtzmaut in the park near our house.

More of the same...

Meah Shearim.

Posted by Ilene Weismehl  at 4:37 PM | Permalink | Comments 0

We stand

I have a secret I haven’t shared with you yet. I spend one day a week in the Reading Room of the National Library on the Givat Ram campus of Hebrew University. I read, I write, I enjoy the bookish atmosphere and exchange greetings with the kind librarians who know me by now.

This morning, I made my weekly journey to the library. I arrived early because today is Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day) and the library would close at 1:00. When I arrived on campus, I saw, just to my left, two large torches and beyond those a large gathering of people. They were listening to a recitation of names, war by war since 1948. I hadn’t planned to attend a memorial service, but with this one in my path, I felt drawn to stand as one of many witnesses. Of the group, most were students, their army years a vivid memory of just a year or two past.

This was already a different kind of Memorial Day for me. In the U.S., unless you have personally lost someone, the holiday means a long weekend, busy highways, and a chance to cook out with friends and family. In Israel, people will also cook out and play, but not yet.

Following the ceremony, I went to the Reading Room for an hour or so before walking down to the café on the lower level for some tea. I was sipping my tea and then, at 11:00, the siren blared and there was stillness and silence.
............................................................................................................
..........................................................................................................
........................................................................................................
.......................................................................................................

Suspended animation. Everyone in the café stopped what he or she was doing and stood up: the ultra-Orthodox man slouched in his chair talking on his cell phone, the two women gabbing over coffee and iced tea, the man who had been making espresso and taking money from the customers. They all stood. Had I been outside, I would have seen more of the same: people stop their cars on the roads and stand outside, they put down their work, they stop teaching and stop being taught. People stop and remember. In this country, nearly everyone has someone to remember. I haven’t felt so heartbroken in a long time.

When the siren ceased, two-minutes later, the orthodox man resumed his slouched, cell-phone conversation. The man behind the counter turned to his customers and the espresso machine began its grinding whir; the two women continued talking over their coffee and iced tea; I returned to my own tea. All returned to normal

Memorial Day will end tonight at 8:00 p.m. and immediately after the final memorial service and torch lighting, Yom HaAtzmaut (Independence Day) will begin. Tonight and tomorrow, people will cook out, they will throng out into the streets, and they will celebrate. There is a time for mourning and a time to rejoice and in Israel there is a ceremony for both. Without a doubt, we need both.

My husband, Elie, took this and the following picuture on the main street near our home.
The light is green; the cars stand still.

Posted by Ilene Weismehl  at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments 1

The flowers appear

Spring has arrived in Jerusalem. Yes, there are the trees that burst into vivid bloom. Yes, there is the greenery that appeared like an overnight miracle on the previously dry and desert-like Jerusalem Hills. And, ok, I suppose the birds returning to twirp and sing and the flowers appearing on the land have their charms. But, in Jerusalem, spring really arrives with Passover.

For weeks before the holiday, which lasts seven days, Jewish families scrub their homes and begin to prepare their houses for a week without bread products. Jewish families do this in the U.S. too, of course. In Jerusalem, however, it’s a citywide spring-cleaning of stores and restaurants, streets and sidewalks.

All of this leads up to the Seder on the first night of the holiday, followed by a week in which schools and some businesses close and the roads fill with cars heading towards rest and recreation. Jerusalem emptied out this week, contributing strongly to the feeling that the city has been transformed somehow.

Most of us are happy and relieved when spring arrives, especially those of us who live in cooler climes. Spring gives us hope of warmer weather and longer, sunnier days. But, how often do we make a real ceremony of it? How often do we actually prepare ourselves? Passover commemorates the ancient Jews’ freedom from slavery, it assumes a hope for freedom for all people, it is a joyous celebration of spring and new beginnings.

The almond tree is the first to bloom. The pink flowers first started appearing in February.

As the rainy season comes to a close, artists emerge on the streets.

A view of the newly lush and green Jerusalem Hills in the distance.

Posted by Ilene Weismehl  at 3:59 AM | Permalink | Comments 0