A Bit of Middle East Humor...

A fleeing al-Qaeda guerilla, desperate for water, was plodding through
the desert when he saw something far off in the distance. Hoping to find
water, he walked toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man
at a small stand selling neckties.

The Arab asked, "Do you have water?"

The Jewish man replied, "I have no water. Would you like to buy a tie?
They are only $5."

The Arab shouted, "Idiot Jew! Israel should not exist! I do not need an
overpriced tie. I need water! I should kill you, but I must find water
first."

"OK," said the old Jew, "it does not matter that you do not want to buy a
tie and that you hate me. I will show you that I am bigger than that. If
you continue over that hill to the east for about two miles, you will find a
lovely restaurant. It has all the water you need. Shalom."

Muttering, the Arab staggered away over the hill.

Several hours later he staggered back, near collapse. "Your brother won't
let me in without a tie."

---More updates to come soon

---Aron

The Big City--Tel Aviv

So here I am, sitting in a hotel room in Tel Aviv, looking out on the coast of the Mediterranean, trying to find some pithy quotes to insert in to the Saturday morning service I'll be leading in a few hours. It's been raining all night here in Tel Aviv, with a few thunderstorms last night as well. Strange how much it's been raining since Sukkot and the first rain of the year...we're in a desert, after all, it's not like it rains all the time. Oh well, guess there's no reason to complain, the rain smells nice anyway.

This past week has been pretty hectic, all told. We've gone through the Middle Ages in Judaic Studies, learning all about the Crusades and Inquisition(s), as well as the movements that European Jewry underwent to keep their Judaism alive during such trying times. After my last entry, we had a few days of class, and then went into Jerusalem to check out a real-live Kehilah Kodesh--a "holy community." Basically, this is a small, fenced-in neighborhood where the Charedi (Ultra-Orthodox) Jews settled outside the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem. They choose to live in isolation because of the nature of their Judaism and the requirements and practices they adhere to. Charedi Jews follow Chalahah (Jewish Law) to the letter, wear the same clothes their ancestors wore almost a millenium ago, and spend their entire lives studying Torah, Talmud, and trying to bring the world one step closer to the Messianic Age. We spent a half-day wandering around this Fiddler-On-The-Roof kind of neighborhood, talking to people and finding out as much as we could about the Charedi way of life. After a while, our time was up and off we went through the streets of Jerusalem, arriving at our next destination, and met one of the more impacting people I've met since coming here.

Marching up three flights of rickety stairs in an old, old building, our group crammed into a classroom and in came a Charedi Jew by the name of Moshe Pelleg. He is a scholar and, although not a Rabbi, very high up in the Ultra-Orthodox world. We were able to talk to him and interview him about many subjects we'd discussed, including the Charedi view on marriage, kashrut (keeping kosher), and Chalahah. The most interesting thing he said, though, came up in a discussion of his view on Reform Jews and their observance:

"In my mind, all of you are my brothers and sisters, and you are all Jewish [have a Jewish mother]. But in my mind, you are not practicing Judaism in any way, shape, or form." (paraphrased--Moshe Pelleg)

This was, for me, a slap in the face. This little man who wanted to be a director in theatre in New York, then changed his mind and began going to yeshiva, eventually getting to where he is today, just told us we aren't practicing Judaism. The guy had balls, I'll admit that much. His reasoning was even more interesting--any Jew that doesn't follow Chalahah to the letter isn't part of Judaism here. This is the common division in Israel: you're either a religious (Orthodox) Jew, or a secular Jew. This all got me thinking about the Reform movement and where it is going, where it has come from, etc. I'm beginning to make my own form of Judaism, one that isn't Reform (I'm following some Chalahah), but isn't Conservative or Orthodox. Especially after studying the beginnings of the Reform movement (in the Pittsburgh Platform of 1886, when the Reform Jews rejected Israel and all things remotely important to the Jewish people), I'm coming to the conclusion that I want to stay somewhat Reform, but branch out and study other ways of Judaism. At the moment, I'm reading some literature on a false Messiah in the Middle Ages by the name of Sabbatai Tzvi, which incorporates a form of Judaism known as Kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism. I finished a term paper on the subject last night, and the Kabbalist movement is very interesting, with promises of enlightenment and being able to chill with G-d every now and then--which is why pop figures like Madonna claim to practice it. For myself, though, I think I'll do some experiementation.

Tuesday, a panel of three rabbis, one each from the Reform, Conservative, and Modern Orthodox movements, came to talk to us and lay out a description and platform for understanding of each type of Judaism they practice. This event, however cool and entertaining, and even though I learned all about the differences between each movement, is a bit overshadowed by what we're studying currently...

We have stepped into the realm of Zionism (finally). In Tel Aviv, which was the first Hebrew city founded under Theodor Hertzl's vision in the early 1900's, we are learning all about Zionism and the influx of European Jews to Eretz Yisrael (the land of Israel) to found a Jewish state. The first part of our trip was the most exciting, as our madrichim surprised us by taking us to a concert in a rickety little club in the city to see a band named Hadag Nachash--"snake fish". Their style could best be described as...trip-hop alternative. The concert was amazing, and words can't really describe how cool their music is. If you look up "The Bumper Sticker Song", you'll find them. Israelis sure know how to party.

Last night, we went to the only Reform Jewish synagogue in the entire city of Tel Aviv, which is a big deal considering that Tel Aviv has now beat New York in population of Jews in one municipality. There, we met some Israeli teens and got to know them, hopefully making some friends in the process. After services and dinner with the Israelis, I chose to walk back to the hotel with some of my group, and got to see the great city at night. The funny thing about Israel is that everything opens up around 11 or midnight on Friday nights, so the entire culture is pretty much nocturnal when it comes to having fun.

Now, it's still early in the morning on Shabbat morning, and after getting a great Israeli breakfast (descriptions/pictures to come soon), I'm headed back to bed to get a bit more sleep before services. Also, I've got to come up with some pithy quotes to insert in, make services a bit more fun. Anywho, much love to all those in the States, all that other mushy stuff, and as we say in Israel: L'hitraot! (See you later).

Shabbat Shalom Kulam,

--Aron

PS-here's my mailing address, and just to give you hints, my birthday is Nov. 3, a week from yesterday.

aronaltmark@aol.com

Aron Altmark
NFTY-EIE High School
Kibbutz Tzuba
90870 D.N. Harei Yehuda
ISRAEL

**Please be sure to mark all letters with, “AIRMAIL.”

Sleep? Who needs it!

All is relatively quiet here in the Judean Hills of late. The kibbutz's harvesting season is over for the moment and all the festival holidays have passed, so there's very few tourists running around. The only real excitement is that the NFTY-EIE Parents Pilgrimage is going on, so a bunch of my peers' parents are here to visit. Now, for a recap since my last post:

After Simchas Torah, when we finished the last Parshah of the Jewish year and began reading from the beginning of the Torah again, I put my nose to the grindstone and resumed our regular (that is, if you consider my schedule by any means normal), and studied my little butt off to kick some midterm tuchus (Yiddish for buttocks). To brag a bit, I ended up getting an 83 on my Hebrew midterm and a high B on my Jewish History midterm, as well as pretty good grades in my other subjects.

Anywho, surprise surprise---it was time for another tiyul (trip)! Monday, October the 16th, our group travelled to the city of Ramleh to learn about Islam. Part of the course of study involves learning not only about Judaism and its origins, but the origins and practices of the other major religions of the world and the Middle East, and having already gone into depth with Christianity, we got to learn all about the Muslim religion from the man in charge of all the Islamic affairs in this region. We mosque-hopped for a few hours, then went to see a gigantic underground cistern used to supply the ancient city of Ramleh with water, and shortly thereafter, returned to our normal class schedule.

Before I go on, permit me to go on a slight tangent. The whole conflict in the Middle East is based on the Islamic extremists, namely Hamas and Hezbullah. Their basis for driving Israel into the sea is from the Quran, derived from a commandment to convert all the world to Islam. If someone won't convert, they may live peacefully as long as the area they are in is not under Muslim rule; in an area under Muslim rule, the rules are "convert or suffer the consequences." The Quran mentions five types of Jihad, meaning "holy war/struggle", the least of which being the Jihad "of the sword." This is the type of Jihad that the Palestinians in this country are waging on the Jews and citizens of Israel, and is the cause of most of the Middle East conflict. These extremists are also responsible for the 11 Kassam rockets that have been fired into Israel from the Gaza Strip in the past four days. None of the violence is evident in Jerusalem, but "the politics of the Middle East are a big time bomb waiting to explode after thousands of years of build-up," as one Jerusalem Post columnist wrote. To be honest, I'm not too worried---there isn't a mall or public place in the country without an armed guard, and overall, I feel safer here than I do in the States. The violence is always in the background, but is something to keep in mind. Alright, tangent over.

Thursday, October 19th, we went on another Tiyul, this time to Belvoir and Tzfat, to learn about the Crusades and Mysticism. At Belvoir, we saw a well-preserved Crusader castle overlooking the Golan Heights, Jordan, Lebanon, and the rest of Israel. There, we had the once in a lifetime chance to storm a castle, only to be beaten back by madrichim with buckets of freezing water, and also got to learn about the Crusades and their effect on the story of the Jewish people. There's a great deal to say about the Crusades, but I'll save that for anyone that wants to hear all about them and how Jews used the blood of Christian babies to make their matzah...kidding, kidding, that's known as the Blood Libel, and is in no way true. After Belvoir and lunch at Kibbutz Akifim, we arrived in Tzfat, a town we slept below during Yam L'Yam. This city is set on a hill overlooking the hills in the extreme northern region of Israel, close to the Lebanese border--so close, in fact, that Tzfat was a secondary target for Ketyusha rockets to strike during the Lebanese war. After the Crusades, the small remaining Jewish population of the world fled to all parts of the world, while one tiny group came and settled on this hilltop. These were the founders of Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism, a sect of Judaism dealing with bringing the Messianic Age as quickly as possible. The basis of Kabbalist thought is that through Tikkun Olam ("repairing the world"), we may be able to bring the Messiah and be ushered into the time of the Messiah when everyone will be happy and the world will become perfect. There will be more on Kabbalah once I read through a book borrowed from Josh on the subject, for it is a very interesting set of beliefs.

That evening, we watched the sun set over Mt. Meron, which--for those of you taking notes--was the mountain we climbed on Yam L'Yam and is the highest mountain in Israel, discounting the Golan Heights. Then, after some nice shopping time and one particularly ugly run in between me and three Orthodox men who got angry about me filming an alleyway where a woman was praying, our group sat down to a lovely dinner of humus and pita, pasta, pizza, and every other Middle Eastern delicacy you can imagine. I'm still burning off all the calories from the night.

Friday morning, we went into Jerusalem and helped out at a soup kitchen in the poorer neighborhood where many Orthodox Jews live. The place is run by a husband and wife, and they recieve no financial help except for donations, so helping out was a rewarding experience for me. This soup kitchen serves a Shabbat meal to those who can't afford their own, can't get to the store, and even lone soldiers who have no where to go for Shabbat. My biggest good deed: shoving my hand into a clogged drain in the ground up the the elbow in order to finish cleaning the floors. Not to self: don't ever do that again.

Friday night, for Shabbat services, I chose to go to a synagogue near Tzuba in the town of Mevasseret Tzion. This congregation refers to themselves as a kehilah (community), rather than a congregation. Their building isn't even finished yet, but the feeling of welcome and compassion was evident all the same. From both inside and outside, the synagogue looks amazing: the architect made it so that both inside and out, it appears that a huppah (a piece of fabric spread over a couple when they get married) is spread over the congregation. Indeed, I felt a huppah of good vibrations throughout the service, and took away some ideas I think will carry over once I return.

The rest of my weekend was spent sleeping, except for going to the Azreili Mall in Tel Aviv last night. The mall is in a high-rise and has three floors...it's pretty darn big. Somehow, I missed the shwarma stand, but I was able to get my Aroma fix. Aroma is sort of like Israel's version of Starbucks, but infinitely better.

For now, I'm off to classes again, but I'll be sure to keep up to date, I've been slacking off with keeping this blog going. And don't forget, mail and e-mails are always appreciated.

--Aron

aronaltmark@aol.com

Aron Altmark
NFTY-EIE High School
Kibbutz Tzuba
90870 D.N. Harei Yehuda
ISRAEL

**Please be sure to mark all letters with, “AIRMAIL.”

Yam L'Yam (aka Sea-to-Sea [aka A-Shower-Ain't-Never-Felt-So-Good])

After spending a wonderful Sukkot with my family here in Jerusalem attending several birthday parties and getting thoroughly confused trying to understand all the Hebrew and lack of English, I met up with my group Sunday at Hebrew Union College and hopped on the bus. Then, we headed nort for Yam L'Yam, the Sea to Sea Trek.

Way north...picking up people on the way.

Even farther north. Then a bit east. Finally, to the Sea of Galilee (Kineret in Hebrew). There, we met our guide for the next five days---Dani, from Tzukim Travel. He got us aquainted with the region and took us on an introductory hike through the river feeding into the Kineret. This river is dry most of the year, and we were privileged to be able to do all 3km of the hike in water up to our waists. Basically, we waded through the life blood of the Kineret, which was a very cool experience.

After the water hike, we got back on the bus and drove about 30 minutes paralleling the Golan Heights, a strip of land in the northeast-most corner of Israel that was gained in the 1967 War and is still "disputed" territory. After about a 1/2 hour drive, we arrived at our first night camp near the town of Zefat, where we were introduced to some of the best soup I've ever eaten and told to watch out for scorpions when we sit down. Oh, and I got to pee on a thorn bush. And not on a scorpion. That night, Dani took us on a walk and left us by ourselves at a distance from each other to have us experience what it's like to be alone in the wilderness at night. I took the opportunity for some good reflection on what I wanted to get out of the trip and a small nap, until I felt a pain in the tuchus...thorn bush, not a scorpion. No worries.

The next morning, we woke up and crawled out of our sleeping bags (no tents--too cheap), only to find that the sun hadn't risen yet. Rude awakening has a new meaning, let me tell you. Some three cups of tea later, we loaded all our food and supplies into our backpacks and set off for the day's hike.

Before I go any farther, let me explain how the group dynamic of this trek works. Our group of 30-ish was split into four groups of 8-9 kids and one madrich (counselor), and each group received a crate with the food rations for that day, including breakfast, lunch, snacks, and cooking materials (pots, pans, gas burners). So basically, our group of eight was completely self-sustained. Each of us had all the water we needed for cooking and drinking, and we distributed the food and supplies amongst ourselves. Also, there was a topographic map one of us was in charge of (that would be me) in each group that we were supposed to use to navigate---but more on that soon.

In any case, from night camp we followed a wadi---riverbed, or valley (in Arabic)---up to an old British outpost that served to guard the water source from invaders from Saudi Arabia and Syria in the early 1800 and 1900's. From here, we could see Har (Mtn.) Meron, the tallest mountain peak in Israel within the pre-1967 War boundaries. The peak was covered by clouds and dwarfed us...It was at this point that Dani informed us that our night camp was at the top of that mountain. Joy.

Some hours later, after descending horrendously steep switchbacks into the bottom of the wadi, we came across a rushing stream. We stopped here for breakfast, and after some yummy cream-of-wheat and tea, Dani gave us a destination on our map about 5km away and told us to navigate to that point, leaving a marker on the way to show that we aren't dead. After a bit of confusion at first caused by several trails branching off, I found our way and kept us straight and true all the way to the rendevous point. This was a really cool activity for me, navigating using just my surroundings and attempting to find out just where in the hell I was...you should try finding your way in the middle of a wadi in Israel someday. It's a trip.

Around five hours and an oversalted pot of rice later, our group reached the lookout point near the peak of Har Meron. From here, we could see just how far we had come in one day---about 20km. Dani pointed out the British outpost visible in the distance as a white speck on the ridge of the wadi. We could also see the Kineret from this spot, and beyond that the Golan Heights, and Syria beyond that. By far the most amazing sight for me, even more important than seeing where we had come from, was seeing the Lebanese border no more than a few kilometers from where we stood. Not only that, there is an important Israeli air intelligence base on top of Har Meron, and we could see dozens of burned-up stands of trees spread out on the side of the mountain from where Ketyusha rockets fired from Lebanon had attempted to hit the air base. Dani pointed out a few settlements right on the border, and when I asked how life up there had been affected by the war, he replied simply: "Life goes on." This experience of being inside what was a war zone (arguably, still is) a month ago was very cool, considering we didn't think we'd have the opportunity. The war really hasn't affected life too much, all things considered. There's still a large military presence, but I recall seeing at least a few hundred other backpackers and adventurers on the trail that were just happy to be walking around the land, and there were more than a few hearty "Chag Sameach"'s passed on, wishing everyone a happy holiday. So, in Dani's words, life goes on. There may be some who try to wipe Israel off the map, but in the end, life will continue.

The third day of the trip, our second day of backpacking, was much easier than the trek up Har Meron---that was one hell of a hike, and I consider myself in decent shape. This hike also involved some navigating, but wasn't nearly as difficult, and also included some vegetarian-hunting on my group's part. Think teenagers with walkie-talkies and topo maps, trying to get to the rendevous point first. Enough said. The signifcant part of this day's hike was the transition from one major wadi to the next. We crossed into Nachal Achziv, which would be the wadi we followed all the way to the Mediterranean Sea, so you can imagine that this wadi is a big deal as far as navigation routes are concerned. At one point along this hike, Dani turns to us and says, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now hiking on 100% Grade A Israeli cow shit." And indeed, we were hiking through a cow pasture. Mmm, dinner. Note to self: do not do blind-folded trust walks when there are rocks or ledges involved, or if there is any trace of livestock around. By the time we got to night camp, most of us were ready to collapse, until the counselors found scorpions in the sleeping bags and panic ensued. Shortly thereafter, we all went to bed anyway, scorpions or no, right after looking up at shooting stars (I saw two!) and finding the North Star.

Another day, and this time there was some serious hiking included. There is a type of hiking called "bouldering." It is exactly what it sounds like: hiking on boulders---hopping, rather, from boulder to boulder, in a dry riverbed. However much fun it may sound like, after a certain point one's ankles decide to give one the proverbial finger, and then it just becomes too much fun for anyone to grasp without Advil or Ibuprofen. On this day, our group learned how to make fire, mostly thanks to me getting a black lung trying to keep our one match from going out and not letting us have fire. The survival techniques we learned during this day were some of the best tips I've received in a long time, major props to Dani. After a long, long, long day of bouldering and getting gas stoves blasted in our [my] faces and burning fingers, we reached our next night camp and enjoyed some apple tea and another batch of yummy soup. I've decided that all food is better with a little dirt and grime and outdoors in it.

Our final day of hiking was from the bottom of Nachal Achziv to the very top of the Nachal Achziv Nature Reserve campsite, way up on the top of another mountain. This gave us a wonderful view of a Crusader castle perched on the ridgeline across from us right as the sun set, and would have been even better had our group not been dropping like flies. Throughout the day, people's knees were giving out, one poor guy fell and cut open his shin, and poor me had his left eye get infected, and was forced to hike with only one contact in...which is not at all good on the knees. However funny it may have been, the part where I almost fell of the edge of the trail and would have plummeted hundreds of meters to my demise due to lack of footing and lack of depth perception was not fun. I think that's the only time I've seen Tom, our Israeli madrich, actually show fear: "Don't do that again. Thank you," were his words, I believe. Finally, myself and the rest of the "gimp crew" reached our final night camp atop the mountain, only to be met by around a hundred IDF soldiers with very large weapons walking around. That's one thing I'm still getting used to about this country: there's military everywhere. Later, I found out that we were within walking distance from Lebanon, which explained the military presence. That night was nice, being able to pass out while actually having real bathrooms to use, and making smores around the fire.

At last, the morning came, and with it came the part I've been waiting for since I arrived: the biking portion. From the top of the mountain, we hopped on some crappy Schwinn "mountain" bikes (I'm being a bike snob, so what) and cruised downhill all the way to the Mediterranean Sea, traversing some hundreds of acres of banana fields first and almost running over a nachash (snake). For those of you that even remotely know me, you'll know why I have to be on a bike, and why it's painful after a month and a half of no pedalling.

Then, the moment we'd awaited for 5 days came: the Sea came into sight. Most of us literally jumped off the bikes and into the water immediately, taking the time to pour a bottle of water from the Kineret in, symbolizing our epic journey and the completion of it. The feeling of the water on my skin was amazing, more from the knowledge that I completed a hike across the country rather than the fact that it was about bathtub temperature and oh so pleasant. I mean, I completed Yam L'Yam. Wicked.

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Arriving back at Kibbutz Tzuba, home sweet home, I took the best shower of my entire life. After five days in the wilderness, I hadn't changed clothes or showered, aside from a few dips in natural springs. The tub literally had a black ring in the bottom by the time I was clean. Boy, did that ever feel good! Sadly, I had to retire my Merrell hiking shoes, which took a toll from the hard conditions and fell apart over the hike. After finally catching up on my rest, I was able to celebrate Simchas Torah, where we begin reading the Torah at the beginning again in the Beit Knesset HaGadol, the Jerusalem Great Synagogue. This was a new and exciting experience, with hardly any order or apparent leadership, but was nonetheless very meaningful---I got to carry three Sefrei Torah and parade around with a bunch of Orthodox men battling for their hymn to be the loudest. All in all, the experience of my Chag (holiday) was AMAZING, and I would do it again any day.

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On one last note, this morning (Sunday) while I was in Hebrew, I noticed some strange clouds blowing in. Lo and behold, some 15 minutes later, the skies opened up and gave use the first Geshem (rain) of the Jewish year. Considering there hasn't been significant rainfall in about 8 months, this was a big big deal...I even saw a few kibbutzniks saying prayers of thanks, and several small children sheltering from the rain like it would melt them.

I really don't think I could have asked for a better holiday: celebrating Sukkot, going on Yam L'Yam, carrying Torahs at Simchas Torah, and experiencing the Yeruh (first rain)...so much to be thankful for, and so little time to thank. For now, Chag Sameach to everyone, and remember to send letters/e-mails. Hopefully, pictures will be up soon.


Shalom,
Aron

aronaltmark@aol.com

Aron Altmark
NFTY-EIE High School
Kibbutz Tzuba
90870 D.N. Harei Yehuda
ISRAEL

**Please be sure to mark all letters with, “AIRMAIL.”

Over the River and Through the Woods...

Tomorrow, I leave my home--Kibbutz Tzuba--to go stay with some of our relatives in Jerusalem until Sunday morning, at which point I'll meet up with the rest of the group and we'll all head up North...far north...all the way to the Kineret (Sea of Galilee) to begin Yam L'Yam. The Sea to Sea Hike. This 5-day adventure will take me all the way across the width of Northern Israel, from the Sea of Galilee to the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. Basically, a group of 30 teens won't be showering, washing, or changing clothes for 5 days, while hiking all over the place and sleeping in the wilderness.

I know, sounds like a party, doesn't it?

Actually, I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself. Unfortunately, I'll be unable to patch into the wireless internet in the middle of nowhere, but I'm going to be sure to keep a written journal so that I can post my experiences when I return a week from Friday. So until then, everyone take care, send me mail/e-mails, and happy Sukkot, the celebration of the harvest.

--Aron

Yom Kippur, The Day of Awe, and the Attack of the Shil-Shul

After crawling and slithering through the Bar Kochba caves and learning all about yet another failed rebellion, having a pool party with some Israeli teens, and celebrating our one month anniversary of arriving in the country earlier this week, the time came for the biggest holiday in the Jewish calendar--Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.

This day is more important than any other holiday in the Jewish year, and I consider myself more than privileged to be able to observe it in Israel. In my last entry, I mentioned the tradition of saying on Yom Kippur: "Next year in Jerusalem," as a way of keeping the hope of a return to Zion alive. This year, I finally made my way to Jerusalem to say these magic words.

Our quarters for the weekend were located in the Beit Shmuel hostel on the Hebrew Union College campus just outside the walls of the Old City, and despite the term "hostel", where amazingly comfy and nice. We arrived and got settled into HUC Sunday afternoon, just in time to grab a last bite to eat before the sun set and the tradition of fasting began. That night, we attended services in the main hall of the campus that serves as their synagogue, and is known widely as one of the most beautiful places to pray in the entire world. The building is a large pyramid, one half of the interior composed of concrete and copper arches, while the other half is entirely made of glass, looking out on the Citadel and the Temple Mount. I mention this mainly because it struck me halfway through services that no one was observing the age-old tradition of turning to the East to pray--only to realize we were already facing the holiest of holy places, the Temple Mount.

After a very beautiful service, not much different than those I experience back home in Alabama (although I must say that Cantor Roskin's Kol Nidre beats the head Cantor of HUC's any day), we were given the chance to roam the streets of the Old City and mingle with the locals. On this night of the year, everyone--secular or religious--goes out in the streets to walk around and meet people. It's one big social gathering, and is made even better by the kids on bikes and rollerblades all over the place. Something people must understand about Israel: on Yom Kippur, the entire country shuts down. All but 3 foreign TV stations are blank, the radio is silent, 70% of the population fasts, 98% go to services, and there isn't a car to be seen in the streets. This simple showcase of modern-day observance made more of an impression on me than anything else, in the common bond the Israelis share with each other, and with all other Jews.

The next morning, Tefillah (services) were optional, and I chose, after much debate, to stay back and do some self-reflection and introspection rather than sit in services and be bored, having a potentially meaningless time. This decision, radically different from the past few years I've observed Yom Kippur, turned out to be one of the best I've made concerning my observance of Judaism. The things I was able to find out about myself and about my place in the spectrum of Judaism and Jewish identities were far more than I (in my opinion) would have gained from sitting in Tefillah. And for those that may be asking, No, I didn't just stay back to catch up on sleep...although that was a nice perk.

Later that day, after a rather insightful (but confusing) Torah study with the head rabbi of HUC concerning one small word, Uv'chayen. This word, meaning "Well" or "Also", comes to be another name for G-d when studied, and further reflects three different layers of G-d's relationship to us--the personal level, the level of the people of Israel, and the universal level as Lord G-d, King of the Universe. Then came the final trial of my Day of Atonement: sitting through another three-hour service with weak body and tired mind. Somehow, I made it, and managed to get a spot holding one of the candles for Havdalah, which is saying goodbye to the holiday spirit.

There were three of us elected to hold candles, and we stood on the altar in front of the entire synagogue holding our flames high--then, the lights were turned off. The setting of the crowd went from sullen and not-so-warm to a group of Jews sharing in the delight of their faith, praying and being happy to be together. In a Havdalah song, there is a line:

"The twisted candle brightens our hearts, as together we watch the Sabbath depart.."

This line expressed my feelings exactly as I stood before the congregation, seeing the flames reflected in my fingernails and keeping just a little of the brightness, just a bit of warmth for myself until next Shabbat, and maybe even a bit for next Yom Kippur to remember that moment when I could say "Next year in Jerusalem."

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Finally, services let out, and we streamed into the streets, heading straight for Emek Refaim St. For those of you taking notes, you may recall this street was where I had my first real meeting with falafel and shwarma. This night, however, we decided to break our Yom Kippur fast at Burgers Bar.

With a 300-gram hamburger.

Oh, yes.

And the Lord said: It was good.

With two-thirds of a pound of meat in my stomach, a nice Aroma coffee drink in my hand, we boarded the bus again and headed home to Tzuba, just in time to get to sleep and wake up again to resume our normal schedule...that is, if you can call my schedule anything like normal.

Unfortunately, no one realized how big of an effect the fasting, then eating (okay, gorging), then not getting enough sleep and trying to go to classes still dehydrated and hungry would have on us teenagers.

Enter shil-shul. I won't even begin to explain this term, but garuanteed anyone who knows modern Hebrew knows the meaning. Thank you Tums and Pepto for sticking with me when no one else would.

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Anyway, that just about sums up everything for now. Tomorrow we are headed North to study the origins of Oral Law and further look at the effects Christianity had on the area known as Palestine after the take-over by the Roman Empire (which, by the way, was neither Holy nor Roman). After that, one more day of class, then we pack up our rooms and move out yet again for Sukkot, the major festival holiday of the year. I'll be staying off the kibbutz with family during Sukkot, and soon after that, we'll all be meeting back up and taking the bus up to the Northern tip of the country for Yam L'Yam--the Sea to Sea trip. This 5-day hike, bike, and camel ride will take us from the Kineret (Sea of Galilee) all the way across to the Mediterranean Sea.

I'll be sure to get in another update before I leave for Yam L'Yam, and with no further comments, questions, or concerns, I'll leave my e-mail and mailing address so everyone can send me love.

Much love,
Aron

Aron Altmark
NFTY-EIE High School
Kibbutz Tzuba
90870 D.N. Harei Yehuda
ISRAEL

Be sure to mark all letters with "AIRMAIL", otherwise they end up on some fishing boat in the Atlantic. If e-mail is more your thing, my e-mail address is aronaltmark@aol.com.