Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But Words Hurt the Most
Tonight was one of the greatest nights of my trip here in Israel. It was also one of--if not the--worst nights of my life.
After a very nice kosher Thanksgiving dinner on good old Turkey Day, we commenced a long week of hardcore learning. Our lessons covered all the wars Israel has fought from the 1948 War of Independence to the 1st Intifada (not a war, technically, but covers up to 1991). Also, I had two mivchanim (quizzes) in Hebrew, as well as some other academic catch-up to play with.
Tonight was a special night, though. For this Shabbat, our madrichim arranged for us to have T'fillah at Tzuba, and then travel to Beit Shemesh to have dinner with host families. These families ranged from secular Jews all the way to full-on Orthodox Jews, and our group of 28 (now down after another two participants leaving) was split up into pairs and singles. I was paired up with Tom, our Israeli madrich (counselor), and we went to the house of Omri and Itai for our Shabbat meal.
They own a nice apartment on the 4th floor of an apartment complex near the center of Beit Shemesh, and we were welcomed in with warmth. Tom put down his rifle (he also serves as security for us), I put down my camera bag and we were ushered to the dinner table. One thing about Israelis is that they don't just have dinner on Shabbat. They go all out. After saying Motzi and Kiddush (the blessings for bread and wine), the patriarch of the family tore up a half dozen loaves of bread, poured wine for all, and the food began flowing. First, there was tuna, bread, and salads. Then, soup and bread, more salads. After that, two separate dishes of chicken and potatoes, as well as shnitzel, accompanied by more salads. To top off the whole meal, we were served tea with nana (mint) and four different trays of nuts along with fruits of all kinds.
Over the course of the meal, which lasted a good two hours, Tom and I spoke with the family at length about all manner of things, which was fun with my somewhat limited Hebrew and their inability to understand and speak English. Thank G-d for Tom. They asked me about America, about Alabama, about American Jews, about Jews in general, about politics, about Jewish girls, about hobbies, about American Jewish girls vs. Israeli girls, and otehr important matters of international priority.
Sitting around the table afterward, there was a general attitude of "happy-camper"-ness. It was also quite cool that Omri took interest in my musical interests and revealed to me that he does similar hobbies as I do, including composing music. So I now have a CD of his, and we're hoping to see each other again on during Chanukah. Eventually, it was time to get back on the bus, so Tom and I said goodbye and thanks to the family, and they said they wanted me to come stay a weekend sometime, so who knows...Israelis are pretty cool.
As we walked to the bus, I noticed that everyone in Beit Shemesh under the age of 30 was walking around, generally just hanging out and having fun. That's another cool thing: it's perfectly legal and encouraged to loiter in public places until dawn on Friday evenings here. Anyway, back to the story.
About 10 meters from the back door to our bus, a young man said something in Hebrew about wearing kippot (head coverings), and I didn't really take note. A second or two later, someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around to find a young man in his late teen's, early 20's standing in front of me. He then asked me if I was getting on the bus. *Note: this entire discourse happened in Hebrew.* I of course replied 'Yes'. He asked, "with a kippa?" 'Yes.' And I continued walking.
At the door to the bus, he again turned me around. But this time, he began yelling at me, asking me how I can get on a bus while wearing a kippa, and that I was breaking the Sabbath. I replied that it's none of his business and that I'm okay with it.
"Atah ben zonah!" was the next thing I heard from his mouth as I was getting on the bus. Then, for the second time, he screamed at me, again calling me a "son of a whore" (Hebrew slang for "son-of-a-bitch"). I turned around and told him to go away. It appeared that he did.
Then he spit on me.
My calm state was gone. I screamed at him to leave, and he screamed right back at me. I screamed for him to go away, although in the least polite words possible, and he screamed again right back at me. Then he retreated again. I sighed.
A rock hit me in the shin.
About as large as my palm. Large enough to sting. And enough to see where it had come from. The same young man who I had been confronting for the past 5 minutes. I snapped. Any sap of calmness or restraint in me left. I screamed at him, and he spat again. I screamed for madrichim, while several of the other kids near me held me back from stepping off the bus. Finally, the bus driver closed the back door in their faces. The three men moved to the front door, and I paced their steps. Our madrichim told them to go away, and to leave us alone. They called them ugly and prostitutes. Before they left for the last time, they did something that I hadn't noticed before in the heat of the moment:
The man said that I wasn't a Jew.
Shaking, I finally sat down as the bus pulled away and took film of the three men to remember their faces. I was so angry that tears welled up in my eyes, and my fists refused to unclench. Shortly, Ariella and Tom both came up and spoke to me. They too had seen or been in situations like that, and tried to explain what had happened and why. The answer appalled me.
In Israel, there is a large rift. Not between Arabs and Jews, but between Jews and Jews. There are those Jews who slap on a kippah and consider themselves "religious", while others are content to fit into the "secular" category. These "religious" Jews evidently feel they have the right to tell all other Jews how to live their lives. By getting onto a bus wearing a kippah, I was breaking the Sabbath in their eyes. And that, in their eyes, was enough reason to curse, spit, and throw rocks. Tom compared them to Palestinians in the way they hate. They hate because of religious differences, and will pick a fight to be in a sort of Jihad, only of Jews vs. Jews. According to them, I was not a Jew. And they wanted to make it known.
This country has its share of problems. I know that much. People are killed everyday because of religious differences, Muslims and Jews, as well as Christians, all being murdered in the name of a G-d. I never thought, though, that I would have to experience the hate of one Jew to another Jew.
This reality check--severe reality check--not only put a damper on, but pretty much ruined, my evening. I had been so happy up to this point. And even now, almost two hours later, I can still hear, feel, and see it happening. "You are not a Jew".
At the moment, I'm not sure that I want to go to T'fillah tomorrow morning. I still have a lot of processing to do. I'm not questioning my Judaism by any means. And if nothing else, this event has actually strengthened my Jewish identity. For now, though, I just want to sit and think, and contemplate the state of things and why it is that in this world of ours, hate can infiltrate into every facet of humanity, right down to the level of brother vs. brother.
I could use some nice e-mails and letters, if anyone would be so inclined.
Shabbat Shalom,
--Aron
PS-my next update will be concerning this topic as well, since we're leaving Sunday to go up north to study the wars and effects on Israel of said wars/conflicts. Expect to hear from me again Tuesday or Wednesday. And start your countdowns, only one month left...*tear*
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.”
After a very nice kosher Thanksgiving dinner on good old Turkey Day, we commenced a long week of hardcore learning. Our lessons covered all the wars Israel has fought from the 1948 War of Independence to the 1st Intifada (not a war, technically, but covers up to 1991). Also, I had two mivchanim (quizzes) in Hebrew, as well as some other academic catch-up to play with.
Tonight was a special night, though. For this Shabbat, our madrichim arranged for us to have T'fillah at Tzuba, and then travel to Beit Shemesh to have dinner with host families. These families ranged from secular Jews all the way to full-on Orthodox Jews, and our group of 28 (now down after another two participants leaving) was split up into pairs and singles. I was paired up with Tom, our Israeli madrich (counselor), and we went to the house of Omri and Itai for our Shabbat meal.
They own a nice apartment on the 4th floor of an apartment complex near the center of Beit Shemesh, and we were welcomed in with warmth. Tom put down his rifle (he also serves as security for us), I put down my camera bag and we were ushered to the dinner table. One thing about Israelis is that they don't just have dinner on Shabbat. They go all out. After saying Motzi and Kiddush (the blessings for bread and wine), the patriarch of the family tore up a half dozen loaves of bread, poured wine for all, and the food began flowing. First, there was tuna, bread, and salads. Then, soup and bread, more salads. After that, two separate dishes of chicken and potatoes, as well as shnitzel, accompanied by more salads. To top off the whole meal, we were served tea with nana (mint) and four different trays of nuts along with fruits of all kinds.
Over the course of the meal, which lasted a good two hours, Tom and I spoke with the family at length about all manner of things, which was fun with my somewhat limited Hebrew and their inability to understand and speak English. Thank G-d for Tom. They asked me about America, about Alabama, about American Jews, about Jews in general, about politics, about Jewish girls, about hobbies, about American Jewish girls vs. Israeli girls, and otehr important matters of international priority.
Sitting around the table afterward, there was a general attitude of "happy-camper"-ness. It was also quite cool that Omri took interest in my musical interests and revealed to me that he does similar hobbies as I do, including composing music. So I now have a CD of his, and we're hoping to see each other again on during Chanukah. Eventually, it was time to get back on the bus, so Tom and I said goodbye and thanks to the family, and they said they wanted me to come stay a weekend sometime, so who knows...Israelis are pretty cool.
As we walked to the bus, I noticed that everyone in Beit Shemesh under the age of 30 was walking around, generally just hanging out and having fun. That's another cool thing: it's perfectly legal and encouraged to loiter in public places until dawn on Friday evenings here. Anyway, back to the story.
About 10 meters from the back door to our bus, a young man said something in Hebrew about wearing kippot (head coverings), and I didn't really take note. A second or two later, someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around to find a young man in his late teen's, early 20's standing in front of me. He then asked me if I was getting on the bus. *Note: this entire discourse happened in Hebrew.* I of course replied 'Yes'. He asked, "with a kippa?" 'Yes.' And I continued walking.
At the door to the bus, he again turned me around. But this time, he began yelling at me, asking me how I can get on a bus while wearing a kippa, and that I was breaking the Sabbath. I replied that it's none of his business and that I'm okay with it.
"Atah ben zonah!" was the next thing I heard from his mouth as I was getting on the bus. Then, for the second time, he screamed at me, again calling me a "son of a whore" (Hebrew slang for "son-of-a-bitch"). I turned around and told him to go away. It appeared that he did.
Then he spit on me.
My calm state was gone. I screamed at him to leave, and he screamed right back at me. I screamed for him to go away, although in the least polite words possible, and he screamed again right back at me. Then he retreated again. I sighed.
A rock hit me in the shin.
About as large as my palm. Large enough to sting. And enough to see where it had come from. The same young man who I had been confronting for the past 5 minutes. I snapped. Any sap of calmness or restraint in me left. I screamed at him, and he spat again. I screamed for madrichim, while several of the other kids near me held me back from stepping off the bus. Finally, the bus driver closed the back door in their faces. The three men moved to the front door, and I paced their steps. Our madrichim told them to go away, and to leave us alone. They called them ugly and prostitutes. Before they left for the last time, they did something that I hadn't noticed before in the heat of the moment:
The man said that I wasn't a Jew.
Shaking, I finally sat down as the bus pulled away and took film of the three men to remember their faces. I was so angry that tears welled up in my eyes, and my fists refused to unclench. Shortly, Ariella and Tom both came up and spoke to me. They too had seen or been in situations like that, and tried to explain what had happened and why. The answer appalled me.
In Israel, there is a large rift. Not between Arabs and Jews, but between Jews and Jews. There are those Jews who slap on a kippah and consider themselves "religious", while others are content to fit into the "secular" category. These "religious" Jews evidently feel they have the right to tell all other Jews how to live their lives. By getting onto a bus wearing a kippah, I was breaking the Sabbath in their eyes. And that, in their eyes, was enough reason to curse, spit, and throw rocks. Tom compared them to Palestinians in the way they hate. They hate because of religious differences, and will pick a fight to be in a sort of Jihad, only of Jews vs. Jews. According to them, I was not a Jew. And they wanted to make it known.
This country has its share of problems. I know that much. People are killed everyday because of religious differences, Muslims and Jews, as well as Christians, all being murdered in the name of a G-d. I never thought, though, that I would have to experience the hate of one Jew to another Jew.
This reality check--severe reality check--not only put a damper on, but pretty much ruined, my evening. I had been so happy up to this point. And even now, almost two hours later, I can still hear, feel, and see it happening. "You are not a Jew".
At the moment, I'm not sure that I want to go to T'fillah tomorrow morning. I still have a lot of processing to do. I'm not questioning my Judaism by any means. And if nothing else, this event has actually strengthened my Jewish identity. For now, though, I just want to sit and think, and contemplate the state of things and why it is that in this world of ours, hate can infiltrate into every facet of humanity, right down to the level of brother vs. brother.
I could use some nice e-mails and letters, if anyone would be so inclined.
Shabbat Shalom,
--Aron
PS-my next update will be concerning this topic as well, since we're leaving Sunday to go up north to study the wars and effects on Israel of said wars/conflicts. Expect to hear from me again Tuesday or Wednesday. And start your countdowns, only one month left...*tear*
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.”
posted by aron at 2:49 PM
1 Comments:
Aaron, dude, your moms a Jew, your a Jew, thats how this game works. That's not my decree, that's what the Torah says, thats what the rabbis say and its accepted fact.
Whether you choose to follow mitzvot is your perogative, but don't let a bunch of punks push you away from the greatest gift on Earth, which is our wonderful tradition. My suggestion to you is to keep searching, there's more truth in our tradition than in any other science or philosophy. You've got a place in Jerusalem if you ever need and are certainly welcome for shabbats.
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