More Pictures of Herodion
To the left in an artist's rendering of what Herod's palace-fortress at Herodion looked like. The park ranger at Herodion showed us this. It is interesting to take a look at the ruins and then at a picture of what might have been.




Below to the left is a picture of some of the excavated ruins of Herodion's palace-fortress. To the right is a picture of me with a M-16... because obviously, I need a picture of me holding an army gun. The same way that I needed a picture of me on a base, next to an Israeli soldier (see previous entry, my picture with Jon at army reserves).












Below and to the left is a picture of "Lower Herodion", which included a gigantic pool (70 by 45 meters), King Herod's memorial, and ancient gardens, among other ruins. To the right is a picture of Jon and I atop of the palace-fortress.









The interesting part of Herodion is that it was used both during Herod's time and as a part of the Bar-Kochbah rebellion. During this revolt, Bar-Kochbah, a famous semi-messianic Jewish military leader, and his followers used the Herodion hill as a secret base of operations, building a network of tunnels throughout the man-made hill. Of course, as the picture below and to the right shows, other famous people also hang around Herodion.








Much love to everyone. I hope to hear from you soon,
lauren

Shabbat (26-27 August 2005)

Thursday night I traveled to Ra'anana.
Like typical Israelis, Alon and I spent Friday morning and afternoon doing errands, seeing some friends and family, and relaxing a little. In the morning, we went to the mall; I picked up all of my school supplies for the next semester and other basic apartment supplies. Later, we went to yoga, watched Team America, had dinner with Alon's family, and saw our friends Chebo, Tal, and Lior.

Today, Saturday, Alon and I traveled into the depths of the West bank to visit our friend Jonathan, who is serving in reserves there. His base is situated just below Herodion, an artificial hill created by King Herod, which overlooks both the Dead Sea and Bethlehem. The palace-fortress was used throughout the early C.E. centuries by both the Romans and rebels such as Bar-Kochbah. The view from the hill is amazing; and it is even more mind-boggling to think that the view was very similar during Herod's time as well. For example, the following quote could apply to both 60 C.E. and 2005 C.E.: "Hey look, there's Bethlehem, some roads, and some out-laying villiages and farms. Oh, and in the distance over to the right, you can see the Dead Sea." (See the fourth picture down for this view.) Unbelievable.

The top-most picture is of a road block. It is in the middle of the West Bank and no longer used by the army here. The image below that, of the red sign that mentions mortal peril, is the entrance to Jon's base. The third image, to the right, is of me and Jon - who is in IDF uniform - in front of a tank and an armored bulldozer, of the kind that is being used in the Gaza strip to clear out the settlers' homes.

I will post more pictures a little later. This evening, Karen invited some of our friends over for Havdallah.

Much missing,
lauren

The Last Thursday Tiul (25 August 2005)

Next semester, our Israel seminar moves to Wednesdays. So, this week our class enjoyed our last Thursday Tiul (Trip). The first part of the trip, we traveled south of Jerusalem to the Soreq Cave. A part of the Israeli national park system, the cave was discovered in 1968 and contains a collection of stalactites and stalacmites. It was an interesting science trip and very beautiful.

After this sojourn into the depths of the earth, we spent some time in the sun. We drove a the beach just north of the Gaza strip. There is something interesting about being in your bathing suit with all of the people who are going to be your collegues for the rest of your life. I mean, do accountants in accountant school go to the beach together and then at a conference 10 years later remember the time that they were all mostly naked together? I'm just saying... Despite feeling slightly queezy about being in a bikini in front of all of my classmates, I will say this: it was a lot of fun. We all swam and talked and had a nice time. It was a great way to end the summer semester together.

Overwhelming Wednesday (24 August 2005)

My last ulpan test contained over 100 new words and several grammar concepts. It was difficult and exausting. A class-wide performance immediately followed our Hebrew final. It was funny and cute, but a little anxiety ridden. After this rather tiring combination, we began academic orientation for the Fall semester. This was exceptionally overwhelming. I will end up with about 11 different courses (there is one elective that I may or may not take), which is a frightening thought. I am not sure how I will balance everything - remember that we also are compelled to volunteer within the local community, required to be at certain weekend services, to run different t''fillot, and be on committees which help run the student community here.

It's a lot. That's all I'm saying.

The Idan Richel (or Raichel) Project

Late last night, many of my friends from HUC and I went to an Idan Richel concert. (You can also spell his name Raichel...) Alon also came into town for the event. It was held at the Israel Museum, in the sculpture garden, under the stars. It was amazing.

Idan (because we are clearly now on a first name basis) is an Israeli who traveled around Africa for an extended period of time. He brought back with him Ethiopian artists, singers, and musical influence, all of which can be seen at his concerts. His songs and music are a blend of Israeli, Ethiopian, and Arabic words and melodies.

It was a great night and a ton of fun. Hopefully sometime soon, I will get around to buying his CD.

Time for naps.

love, lauren

This Last Week (not including today and last night)...

This past week contained numerous things of mention, including the following:
~ Shabbat dinner with in Ra'anana with Alon's family: one of my favorite ways to spend Shabbat
~ Karen and I hosted our Kitah for a Havdallah party
~ ARZA (Association of Reform Zionists of America) meetings: I got named chairperson of the committee! And our first meeting that I ran was actually successful (meaning got things done)! That was really exciting.
~ House-warming party at our friend Richter's: He just moved into a new apartment in Tel Aviv. It was super nice to see so many faces that I haven't seen in a while.
~ Kitah (Class) Gimel tiul: got to walk around, see new things, eat at a new cafe...
~ Saw "Walking on Water" with Lior Ashkenazi: I highly recommend it.
~ Went to the beach! I love the beach.
~ Painted a new painting
~ Said good-bye to the last of our orientation interns
~ Joined the FSU Pesach Project: it's an opportunity to go to the Former Soviet Union for a part of Passover and help once-oppressed Jews learn more and experience more about their Judaism by leading seders... Super cool and I am really excited to go to the FSU
~ Volunteered to help connect American college students and young adults visiting Israel to a place for High Holidays.
~ Picked my volunteer project for the year: I get to work with kids!
~ Started reading Harry Potter 6 for the second time... I am a dork

So, that is just a peek into this past week!
Hope to hear from you soon!
love
lauren

Two Shabbats Ago continued...
So, after we returned from the active part of the river, Roni, Alon, and I drove further into the desert, toward the second and most beautiful monastary on the pilgrims path. It sits deep in the canyon, jutting out of the cliff walls. The aquaduct continues past the monastary, on its way to Jerico.

Although extraordinarily lovely, it is a steep and long hike down to the monastary and out of the canyon again. (You can get an impression of it from the picture to the left.) I got over-heated during this part of the trip, and as a result, had to take it easy the next day.

There were one or two other interesting things which we saw during the day long hiking adventure. One included these weird onion things growing out of the ground (seen below and to the left). The other involved animals; the donkeys pictured in a previous blog and camels, one of which is shown below to the right.


That's really about it for this adventure... More about more recent stuff later...
Much love
lauren

Two Shabbats Ago... (13 August 2005)

Two Shabbats ago, Alon, Roni, and I drove out of Jerusalem, to the West Bank and its settlements. On the old pilgrims' path between Jerico and Jerusalem lay canyons, pilgrims' markers, and beautiful monastaries that jut out from rock walls.

We got lost on the way to the monastary and stumbled our way onto a trail near the site. The trail went through the desert into a canyon, carved by a running river. The river started as a natural spring which forms multiple deep pools in different parts. Years ago, someone also created an aquaduct above the natural-flowing water.

Where the river begins, Arab and Israeli families sat in the shade of the trees that flank the water, relaxing in the relative cool. Children splashed in the pools, chattering in Arabic or Hebrew. After walking through the dusty desert hills, I found myself in a place where Palestinians and Israels taught their children how to swim, ate meals, and bonded as families without conflict. It was an oasis of peace; I don't think that I have ever been in a place like it.

For much of our hike, Roni, Alon, and I decided to walk along the aquaduct. At a certain point, Roni decided to try our luck climbing up one of the many hills. After I got stuck in a "sniper bush" and numerous other pricker plants and Alon noticed that the rock lacked a certain amount of stability, we convinced Roni that returning to the car via the aquaduct was the best route.

After a while, we made it back to the car and drove to the hike point which included the monastary. Below on the left is a view of a part of the river valley, from the shade of the trees. Next to it is a picture of one of the rocky trails that Roni, Alon, and I tried to go up. It is rather steep, and I can tell you from experience, that all of those green-ish, yellow-ish plants are really pricker bushes loaded with stinging little briars.









I will write more about the monastary later, but this week is the last week of ulpan... and I have a test on Wednesday that includes over one hundred new words and about five confusing grammar points (that she just informed us all of today). So between that, dinner prep, the two meetings I had today, and trying to upload pictures, I must get going.

Hope to hear from you soon (remember I have that new Vonage number! It is cheap and easy to call as long as you remember the time difference!)
much love and missing
lauren

Concerning the Disengagement

Living in Israel during the Disengagement leaves me speachless. I am filled with feelings of sorrow for the removed settlers, sympathy for the soldiers who follow orders, understanding for the absolute necessity of this action, and worry for the future of a country that gives up land for nothing. One of the best descriptions for the whole situation I read is ironically written by someone who does not live here. I included it below.

Much love
lauren

By ELIE WIESEL
Published: August 21, 2005, New York Times
IN 1991, when Saddam Hussein's Scud missiles fell in a deafening din on Tel Aviv, some Palestinians danced in the streets and on the roofs of their houses. I saw them. I was in Jerusalem, and I could see what was happening in the Arab quarter of the Old City. It happened again later, each time a suicide terrorist set off a bomb on a bus or in a restaurant. I evoke these scenes with sadness, and for a reason: we have just seen them repeated in Gaza.
The images of the evacuation itself are heart-rending. Some of them are unbearable. Angry men, crying women. Children, led away on foot or in the arms of soldiers who are sobbing themselves.
Let's not forget: these men and women lived in Gaza for 38 years. Successive governments, from the left and the right, encouraged them to settle there. In the eyes of their families, they were pioneers, whose idealism was to be celebrated.
And here they are, obliged to uproot themselves, to take their holy and precious belongings, their memories and their prayers, their dreams and their dead, to go off in search of a bed to sleep in, a table to eat on, a new home, a future among strangers.
From far away, we watch them on television screens and in the pages of newspapers. Some have behaved in an offensive and undignified manner. They insulted and wounded soldiers; they spat on officers - including some who are decorated heroes, all of them ready to give their lives for their country. But the majority have responded in a dignified way: with tears. As though united in the same despair, soldiers and evacuees cried together, even to such an extent that certain commentators have reproached them, saying: our warriors of yesterday and tomorrow shouldn't give way to easy emotion.
On a strictly military level, the operation is a success. For that, and for his brave decision to pursue future peace even at present political cost, Prime Minister Ariel Sharon deserves praise. But starting now, Israelis and Palestinians must face the question: What next?
And here I am obliged to take a step back. In the tradition I claim, the Jew is ordered by King Solomon "not to rejoice when the enemy falls." I don't know whether the Koran suggests the same.
I know only that in my opinion, what is missing from the chapter now closing is a collective gesture that ought to be made, but that hasn't been made, by the Palestinians.
Let's imagine it, if you will. Let's imagine that, faced with the tears and suffering of the evacuees, the Palestinians had chosen to silence their joy and their pride, rather than to organize military parades with masked fighters, machine guns in hand, shooting in the air as though celebrating a great battlefield victory. Yes, imagine that President Mahmoud Abbas and his colleagues, in advising their followers, extolled moderation, restraint, respect and a little understanding for the Jews who felt themselves struck by an unhappy fate. They would have won general admiration.
I will perhaps be told that when the Palestinians cried at the loss of their homes, few Israelis were moved. That's possible. But how many Israelis rejoiced?
And now, where are we? A lull is imperative. The tears must be allowed to dry and the wounds to heal. Haste, in this delicate moment, is dangerous. Any pressure from outside risks being counterproductive.
Why these words of warning? Because last May, at an official dinner offered by King Abdullah II of Jordan, I spoke with the Palestinian prime minister, Ahmed Qurei. When I asked him what he thought of Mr. Sharon's courageous decision regarding Gaza, it was with a wave of the hand that he objected, adding with disdain: "All that is worth nothing, means nothing. If Sharon doesn't begin right away to negotiate definitive borders, a great catastrophe will be the result." He repeated those words: "right away" and "a great catastrophe."
The optimist in me wants very much to believe that those were just words. Gaza, after all, is but one chapter in a book that must ultimately be about peace.

On Blues and Oranges
Today, Monday the 15th of August, marks the beginning of the Hitnatkut, or Disengagement. For those of you who have not read the paper lately, Israeli citizens protest for or against the Hitnatkut almost continuously. Each side has chosen colors: orange represents those who are against the Hitnatkut and blue is worn by those supporting the Disengagement. Both sides are exceptionally stubborn in their stances, to the point of agression. The only thing that I really have to say about the situation is this: I feel that both sides are acting like... well, take a look at the pictures.

(I took these pictures while I visited the West Bank this weekend. But more on that adventure later...)

Thanks to Grammie and Grampie - I just got my birthday card in the mail.

For weeks, friend Rachel and I talked about buying tallitot (plural of tallis, or prayer shawl). This past week, after much discussion, both Rachel and I decided to buy Gabrielli tallitot. Gabrielli are the last major Israeli fabric weavers who still hand-weave their tallitot. They are expensive, but they are also supposed to last a lifetime.

Shopping for a tallit in Gabrielli's is a unique experience. We walked into the store, the proprietor looked at us, talked to us for a few minutes, and then began pulling out different tallitot for us to try. After the first tallit, he refused to let us really try on others that he did not think fit our personalities. "Take that one off, I do not like it on you," he said. Amazingly, throughout the entire process, he was right. Although both of us entered the store with very similar requirements, Rachel and I bought very different tallitot. Each tallit somehow fits our personalities, and both of us could not be more pleased. It was an excellent adventure and I am thrilled with the results.

Above, to the right is a picture of me in the apartment, showing off the new tallit in its full glory. I wanted a large, traditional tallit with a feminine, but not girly touch. I will post pictures of Rachel and I shopping, if she will ever send them to me. And yes, I am sweaty. It is hot here.

New Painting

I painted a new picture on Tuesday while I was studying. It is a pomegranate. It now hangs in my living room. I tried to take a better picture, but my hand has the shakes.

More to come sometime soon...

More Pictures from Nachal Zavitan.

This picture to the left was the third or fourth waterfall.
Below in the center(ish), is a slightly blurry picture of Roni, Naomi, and Nir resting up for the next waterfall. To the right is a picture of the typical "path" by which we had to make our way towards and away from the river and its waterfalls.

Below is a picture of the very end of the trail, after we climbed out of the canyon, away from the river. The North is fairly dry and yellow in the middle of the summer, as it is so dry. The last one, to the right, is of Alon and I at the very end of the adventure.

The other day I discovered that if you double click on any of the pictures, the image will enlarge.

Hope all is well at home.
Much love,
lauren

It has been one heck of a week in the Perolman/Pack residence. Check out Karen's blog by clicking here to see what we have been facing.

Nachal Zavitan (6 August 2005)

Throughout last year, Alon and I spent most of our Shabbats climbing and hiking through God’s great creation. These experiences helped me to learn to love the land of Israel more than anything else. This weekend, with our friends in toe, we continued our tradition.

Naomi, Shachar, Artem, Roni, Alon, and I spent the night in Haifa at Shachar's parents' place. Joined by Shachar's younger brother Nir, we drove up to Nachal Zavitan early Saturday morning. It is about a half hour hike into the Black Canyon, which contains the Zavitan and numerous waterfalls that the river carved in the dark rock.

The river is surrounded by lush vegetation, and the pathway down the canyon is difficult. Nonetheless, the experience and scenery is exceptionally rewarding.

There are several waterfalls, most of which are so high that we needed to rappell down them. Usually, we rappelled into a deep pool of water. There are places to climb and boulder while one is waiting. Above and to the right is a picture I took of the first waterfall on the trail - all of us jumped down it, instead of rappelling. (It was only about 15 to 20 feet high.)

It took about seven hours to hike in, through, and out of the canyon. I do not feel like I can fully describe the experience in words, so I am posting pictures that I took along the way, with some desciptions and explinations.

Above and to the left is a picture of the whole group who went. Alon and I are to the left, Artem is behind us. Shachar and Naomi are giving strong man poses in the middle. Roni is in the black shirt to the left, and Nir is holding the map. The next picture, in the center, is of me climbing down the path to the waterfalls. The picture to the left is of Roni jumping down the first small waterfall. The object in Roni's hand - which is almost out of the picture - is a large plastic toy axe. We carried it throughout the entire trip.

The image to the left was the second waterfall. We actually rappelled down a different, much taller way, but none of those pictures came out nearly as nice. The picture on the right is of the canyon at the third waterfall, before we rappelled into the large pool of water that lays below. Dry land lies just beyond that curve.

I will put up more pictures later on. I got sick after this trip and do not yet feel better.

I hope that everyone at home is well and happy.

There are parts of Jerusalem in which only extreme Orthodox live. Called haradi, meaning "shaker [before God]" or dosim, meaning "religious", they are the extreme right-wingers of Israel. They dress in the manner of the Baal Shem Tov, who died in the 1700s, or other favored Enlightenment-era, usually Polish rabbis. They are the yeshiva-niks, they are the producers of many yiddish speaking children. And the most extreme live in a neighborhood called Meah Shearim. (Above is a picture of the entrance to the neighborhood.)

Do not get me wrong. I do not think that there is anything wrong with being Orthodox. It is a valid way of practicing Judaism that is exceptionally meaningful to many people. I just have strong ideological differences with some of the things that they say.

Nonetheless, I went to visit Meah Shearim about a week ago, on a trip lead by one of HUC's rabbis. It was a truly interesting experience. The area is painfully poor, as most study or care for children instead of work. Walking into the streets feels like entering another world; all of the men dress in long black robes, tall dark hats, and peh-as. The women work in floor-length skirts, long-sleeves, and are topped with either caps or wigs. Frankly, I don't know how anyone stands the heat.

The commercial streets are filled with Judaica and book shops and a few small food markets. The people are mostly unfriendly, hurrying from one place to another with occasional angry glares. I was only able to snap one quick picture inside of the neighborhood; no one likes tourists in this part of town. (It is to the right.)

All in all, I do not think that I will return to this little corner of Jerusalem. Even though I was appropriately dressed, I felt exceptionally uncomfortable and very shut out from the community in this part of town. None of this is terribly surprising, as the fact that I am both a woman and want to become a rabbi (nevermind how I dress) makes me close to heretical. Ce la vie.

More on Thursdays

I also go shopping at the shuk, or market, on Thursdays. The shuk is fabulous, as it contains every food and spice you could ever want. For all of us here, the shuk is a weekly visit, where we collect the week's groceries. For those who have never been, it is an almost overwhelming journey. But we will talk more about the shuk-related adventures some other time. Right now, just revel in the fact that I use a shuk cart.

Thursday Ti'ulim, continued...

This past week's trip, the 4th of August, was a walking trip through parts of the Old City of Jerusalem. We started off the day with morning prayers, overlooking the wall that Suleymon the Magnificent built around Jerusalem, in the days of the Ottoman Empire.

After the end of morning prayers, we split into our respective tour groups. My group gathered at the Jaffa Gate and headed into the Old City. We wandered through the Armenian quarter to a variety of archeological sites buried deep underneith Jerusalem's modern streets and buildings. Throughout the ages, people simply built on top of the ruins of the past. Thus, digging under modern foundation stones yields returns of amazing historical significance.

After this, we walked outside of Emperor Suleymon's walls, onto Mount Zion. This area tends to have more elements of Christian and Crusader architecture, with Muslim impositions. (See picture I took of the walk onto Mount Zion to the left.) It is in interesting contrast to other parts of the city. We also visited the fabled location of David's tomb. Named King David's tomb sometime in the Middle Ages, the modern-day synagogue resembles a nicely tiled cave more than anything else.

We spend a lot of time in text study on these tours, and we spent some time studying texts there.
The picture to the right contains my entire tour group.


We also visited the once-church, once-mosque, now tourist attraction, room where Jesus had his last meal, the Passover seder. It is white and mostly empty, but surprisingly contains a golden flowering tree and lovely stained glass windows.

During the final leg of Thursday's ti'ul, we walked down to a place called guy ben-yanom. Before and during the early First Temple Period, it served as a sacrifice site to a local god. Pointedly near Mount Moriah - the place where Abraham almost sacrificed Isaac - guy ben-yanom was the location of all of the area's child sacrifices. When the Bible talks about heretical kings sending their sons through the fire, it refers to this place. Additionally, during the Second Temple period and the time of Jesus, ancient Jerusalemites used guy ben-yanom as a trash pit. It was constantly aflame, in an attempt to destroy the garbage. When Jesus saw the fiery gulf, he called it the epitomy of hell (at least so I am told). Today, it is a pleasant, grassy park that leads to my climbing cliff and some Arab villages further down the ravine. All of this is a twenty minute walk from my apartment.
To the left is one of the stained glass windows at the room of the Last Supper. To the right is a picture that I took near the outside of King David's tomb.

I just really liked both of them, so I thought that I would share. That's all for now.

Much love to all,
lauren

Thursday Ti'ulim

Each Thursday, my whole class, future rabbis, cantors, and educators alike, take a ti'ul, or trip. On the Wednesday evening before yom ti'ul, we gather together with our tour guide to discuss the place's history and some of the texts which surround that history. The subject of King David and his decendants consumed much of the ti'ulim the past two Thursdays.

The first week, we walked through the ancient City of David. (Sadly, all of my pictures of this trip were deleted accidentally.) Dating back to the beginning of the Patriarchal period (19th cent. BCE), the city consists of an almost overwhelming number of archeological digs and discoveries. This includes "area G", a site containing the personal library of one of the Biblical scribes, and Hezekiah's tunnel. Hezekiah's tunnel is particularly exciting both for historical Biblical reasons and as it has been turned into a half mile long water hike. It starts at the Gihon spring, one of the most abundant water sources in the Judean hills and ends at the Shiloach pool. The tunnel itself was built by Hezekiah, king of Judah, in 701 BCE as a part of preparations against a seige of the King of Assyria. It is mentioned in Chronicles II.

To be continued when I don't have to make dinner...