What a Country!

Today I am 6,000 miles from where I was yesterday, and just in terms of geography.

I landed in Israel early this morning.  I'm here to attend the winter session of the Hartman Institute's RLI (Religious Leaders Institute) winter seminar and I'm very excited.  As a Senior Rabbinic Fellow at Hartman I get to study with some the best Judaic scholars in the world: David and Donniel Hartman, Micha Goodman, Alick Isaacs, Menachem, Moshe Idel, Moshe Halberthal, Menachem Lorberbaum, Melila Hellner-Esed, et al.  I can't wait!

I arrived a couple of days early so that I would have sufficient time to deal with the all too common effects of jet lag.  Last June I found myself dosing off in class at the start of the session.  We were studying the Zohar, it was very hot, and I was still on Milwaukee time.  And sitting next to the teacher didn't help.  The class was being video taped and I was doing everything short of snoring.  It would have been even more embarrassing had not most of my colleagues also been in the same situation.

My foresight has saved me this time.  I had a 4:00 am wake-up call so that I could make it to Chicago O'Hare from my hotel in time to catch a 6:00 am plane to Newark where I would connect with my 1:15 pm EL AL flight.  By the time I arrived at Ben Gurion this morning at 7:00 am I was exhausted.  Taking a sleeping pill helped, but I only slept for three hours.  I knew during my cab ride to Jerusalem that I had to do everything possible to stay awake and reset my internal clock.  I would go to sleep according to Israel time because if I didn't . . . most of you who have travelled internationally know the consequences.

So, I checked into the hotel, unpacked and went for a walk, a long walk, and in the process I did what I always do when I walked the streets of Jerusalem, I fell back in love with the city.  I put together a list of chores: exchange dollars for shekels, buy a universal converter (I forgot mine at home), eat lunch, and walk to stay awake.  I made my way to the Midrekhov (the pedestrian mall downtown) and accomplished goals one and two.  I could have gotten a shwarma at one of my favorite shwarma stands, Moshiko's, but after eating three heavy meals on the plane which were still embedded in my stomach I opted to walk still further to Mahane Yehuda (Jerusalem's large, open air market) for a felafel.  And I knew I would get it at Achim Levi's, the best felafel stand in the city.

But as soon as I had walked two blocks I noticed a dramatic change to the city's downtown landscape; Jaffa Road, a major artery which runs through downtown was now closed not only to cars, but buses as well.  For several years, more than Jerusalemites would like to count, the street has been torn up and perennially under construction for the laying of tracks which would serve as the foundation for the city's new light rail system.  Finally the construction was over!  As I crossed the street I saw a brand new, sleek light rail train approaching.  It was not in service; filled with transit workers for a trail run.  Watching that train come to a stop at a passenger platform right next to me was exhilarating!  I pulled out my Blackberry and snapped a photo (as soon as I get home I'll add that photo to this post).  Wow!  Jerusalem now has a modern light rail system, something we in Milwaukee could really use.

I eventually reached Mahane Yehuda. How could I miss the beehive of human activity.  It was packed as usual.  Vendors were hawking their produce and merchandise.  Staples like olives, dates, fish, eggs, breads, cheeses and halvah were impeccably placed on their table.  And then it was there,  Felafel Achim Levi, the market's famous, almost revered felafel stand.  I stood on line waiting to order (New Yorkers never stand "in line," we stand "on line") when the expected happened.  A woman walked up from behind me and stood in front of me.  She looked at me, I looked at her, and we laughed; collaborators in an all-too common Israeli phenomenon: rude behavior.  neither of would budge (at least I didn't let on that I would have relented).  Our game of chicken was finally resolved by the proprietor.  When my nemesis stepped forward to order he chided her, "He was here before you."  At in seem-less fashion he turned from her and directed his attention to me.  It was a beautiful moment of vindication and justice!

I stepped up to the counter and said, "Lafa, bevakasha."  I couldn't believe the words I had just uttered.  I asked for a giant, monster felafel comprised of 5 felafel balls instead of the usual 3; wrapped in an enormous flat pita instead of the half pita shell with which most are familiar.  But I was giddy over my moral victory and my euphoria had gotten the better of me.  "Harif?" - Spicy, hot sauce? - asked the owner.  "Ken, aval k'tzat," - Yes, but just a little, I said.  I was crazy, but not stupid!  "Salat, hummus, chips?" - Salad, hummus, french fries?  He further queried.  "Ken, b'vakaha," - Yes, please, I responded.  "Metzuyan." - Excellent, he approvingly said.  It was then that I knew that I was really in Israel.  It was a typical, archetypal Israeli comment and moment.
And I thought of that line made famous in the '80s by the Russian born American Jewish comic, "What a country!"

Yes, I did end up paying dearly for my indulgence with a whopper of a stomach ache.  But it was more than worth it; a forschbeis of what I hope will be more delicious and memorable culinary experiences and study of Torah.  So stay tuned for more posts to follow . . .