Monday, September 26, 2011

The Security Post


This is a post that certain members of my family probably should skip. So if hearing about what it's really like on the ground in Israel will keep you up at night, stop reading.

You still there?

Oh good!

See, the truth is that we're perfectly safe. We live about a block away from my school, and Sarah is very familiar with the regulars on her buses. 

The purpose of this post is really more to give an update with an American-Living-In-Israel perspective, and also for posterity. A friend of mine recently reminded us that just 18 years ago, Clinton, Rabin, and Arafat shook hands on the White House lawn. That post inspired me to discuss what's going on currently, especially since the Palestinian Authority's presentation to the United Nations.

First, the Attack Outside Eilat (I meant to write about this subject shortly after it occurred, but a number of things got in the way.).

As a class, we first heard about the attack on the radio coming back from a historical site in the center of the country. Details were scarce but all we knew was that a bus was attacked near Eilat. My first call wasn't home (since it was the middle of the night and my personal security was not in question), it was to my friend Brad, who lives in Eilat. He filled me in on the details and he was perfectly fine. 

Then, the "what next" question came up: Sarah and I had plans to go to Tel Aviv that night. Usually, we take a bus from the Jerusalem bus station to the Tel Aviv bus station, traveling through very busy terminals and along a very busy road. Sarah and I had a long discussion about whether we should continue with our plans or stay in Tel Aviv. I sought counsel in one of my teachers. "Given the events of today," I asked, "would you have any pause about going to Tel Aviv tonight on a bus?" His response was quick and definitive. "To Tel Aviv? Not for a second." We ended up going to Tel Aviv and the experience was completely normal. We were checked before entering the terminal, there was some traffic getting out of the city, and we arrived safely and without incident. It was clear by that point that this attack, while coordinated, was a relatively random act of terror, and not something coordinated by a larger national or political entity.

The next night we had Shabbat dinner with some of Sarah's family. This was the first time that I had been in Israel during a terror attack, so I considered myself lucky to be able to get quick, first-hand reactions to the previous day's events to help me get a better picture of the Israeli mentality. I asked our family about what the previous day was like for them, what they did, and what went through their head. Sarah's cousin said that they heard about it, listened to the radio and watched the news for about an hour, and then went on with their day. To paraphrase her, "after an event like this, Israelis are in denial about the situation (and yes, since two people have already asked, that is the word she used). We can't think about it all the time because we would go insane. Instead, we carry on with our lives."

And that's Israel the day after an attack.

Now, some thoughts about the current situation.

The classic argument is "yes, things are fine, but you have to watch out for the crazies." Yes, that's true. As it is true in the US. Recently, I saw an article about a TSA agent who is on trail for murder. Will that stop you or me from going to the airport and getting screened by a TSA agent? Not so much. So I'm not really going to address the crazies. They're crazy. But security is really good. For example, shortly after the attack outside Eilat, there was a security alert in Jerusalem. We received a text message from our director of student services advising us to stay away from crowded areas. Some people decided to still go to an arts festival, and another group of us just went to dinner at a smaller, quieter restaurant. Nothing happened. Well, not nothing. The terrorist was captured. But we have an incredibly good system for being alerted when there is a security threat.

As for what will happen next, it's anyone's guess. The usual response on the news is B-roll of Palestinians throwing rocks at Israeli soldiers, and the soldiers responding accordingly, usually with non-lethal, crowd dispersal techniques that look like the soldiers are shooting children. Two new factors, though, may play into whether the Palestinians will respond: 1) the Arab Spring was predominantly peaceful and the world community really likes peaceful protests. It's clear that the world community got behind the Arab Spring largely because they were such peaceful protests. If the rebels (Libya notwithstanding) had been backed by guns and rockets, the world would have just seen it as a civil war. Instead, we have new governments in many of those places. Whether that will end up being a good or bad thing, and whether that will be good or bad for Israel is another issue, but the take away from the Arab Spring for the Palestinians is that peaceful protests work. 2) I know, it's another peaceful protest, but the world really liked the recent protests in Israel. While I may have some issues as to the pragmatic aspects of what the Israelis are fighting for, one cannot deny that nearly 500,000 people got together peacefully and there was only civil discourse. Again, world's view: peaceful protests are a good thing, especially when all you see of a country is soldiers firing at children.

So what happens now? If the Palestinians are smart, they will continue to engage in peaceful protests and demonstrations, they will allow the world community to facilitate peace talks, and when those talks are over, they will actually impose some sort of discipline on their own people so that some crazies don't try to disrupt everything. Now, the same can be said on Israel's end, since it was an Israeli, crazy, fucktard of a man that killed Rabin when so much seemed possible. 

As for the security situation, we will have to see. If the Palestinians start sending suicide bombers over, I would expect the world community to say, "see, this is why we shouldn't give you a state." And then we'll go back to the rhetoric of the last 20 years. However, if the security situation improves, Israel should take down the fence/wall/whatever-you-want-to-call-it, get out of the settlements (which they should stop building anyway), and be the first to recognize a legitimate Palestinian state.

In the meantime, we're all fine. As I mentioned, we have an incredible security system that alerts us of areas we should avoid. We know where we shouldn't go (i.e.: vacation in Gaza), and we know where it's perfectly safe to visit. We watch the news every day to keep up with the situation. 

For now, as we hope for the future, we have calm. 

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

My First HUC Service


On Monday, I led my first service with the HUC-JIR Jerusalem community. My peers -- including future Rabbis, Cantors, and Educators -- as well as faculty -- including my service mentor, Rabbi Shelly Donnell -- were present for our weekly Monday afternoon service, called "Minchah." Sarah's parents were also in town, which was a lovely connection to home. I was also extremely lucky to work with Cantorial Student Jay O'Brian, who has a beautiful, very natural, folk-style voice. Below is a point-by-point description of the service. While I didn't think to video the service, I hope you will be able to get a sense of what the service was like.

1) We opened the service with the following song, first as a niggun (wordless melody with "yai lai lai").

Sounds of Silence
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written in the Kotel walls
In Muerstein Hall" (the sanctuary)
And whispered in the sounds of silence

2) Iyun (teaching) delivered by me

My Rabbi in San Diego has begun High Holiday services with variations of the same one-liner for the past few years: "Welcome. We invite you to call on God today, but to the best of my knowledge, God will not be calling you on your cell phone, so please take this opportunity now to silence them."

How are we called to prayer?

There is a formal call to prayer in our morning and evening services in the form of the Bar'chu; yet there are many other times in our lives when we are called to prayer in some other way. In this Mincha, we will be exploring the idea of using sound to be called to prayer.

We began with the song "The Sounds of Silence." Sometimes, it is this silence that gets us ready for prayer. Some people explore prayer through meditation, usually beginning in silence before engaging with God. Sometimes, the silence itself allows us the space to pray. For our purposes, we wanted to use a familiar, yet unimposing sound to call you to prayer.

As I mentioned, we use the Bar'chu as a functional call to prayer, but if you look at the text, all it literally says is "Praise Adonai to whom praise is due; Praised be Adonai to whom praise is due, now and forever." The text doesn't say "Alright! Let's get ready to daven!" Instead, it's the call and response sounds of the text that invite us to prayer.

Over the break, some of us visited Turkey, and I was truly inspired by the sounds of the calls to prayer from the Mosques. So today, after the Chatzi Kaddish, Jay will be calling us to prayer, using the cantilation style of the Muslim tradition and the words of "Adonai s'fatai tiftach u'fi yagid t'hilatecha." Just as the Bar'chu praises God, so too does this line address God. It is our plea that we be able to pray. It may sound weird, foreign, and or maybe just plain wrong. But I invite you to allow yourself to be called to the Amidah with a different kind of sound, and then continue on with the Amidah so that you may have your own moment to connect through the texts and the words of your own heart. Also, if you are called to do so, feel free to change your location in our sanctuary. When we start singing “Yihiyu L’ratzon,” that will be our cue to return to our prayers together.

Before then, though, the Ashrei serves as a warm-up to the Amidah so that we may be spiritually ready for our prayer offering. We join together on page 52 in joy.

3) Ashrei (52) - Jay led the responsive chant using the traditional nusach (melody)

4) Chatzi Kaddish - Jay led the chant using the traditional nusach (melody)

5) Jay then called us to prayer doing a Jewish "muazin," or Muslim call to prayer that is heard from the Mosques 5 times a day. 

6) We then continued with a silent Amidah (specific section of the service) with Jay’s guitar underneath.

7) We sang the campy style Yihiyu L’ratzon. Beautiful.

8) Aleinu - Jay led the chant using the traditional nusach (melody)

9) Iyun delivered by me

DIfferent sounds not only evoke different emotions, they can call us to pray different words. Hearing the sound of the air-raid siren throughout the city on a Friday night might inspire you to go light the Shabbat candles and say the b'rachot. Yet, hearing the same siren on Yom Hazikaron might call you to say a completely different prayer. Life-cycle events similarly bring about these differing emotions and prayers. "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!" Some might say "Mazal tov!" or "Baruch Hashem!" I would say to my in-laws, "savlatnut" (my in-laws will be there for this service).

Yet, there are also difficult sounds. And the more you think about them, the more they leave an impression on you. Last year, I heard the most difficult Hebrew sentences I had ever heard. Not because they used a binyan I had never used, but because of who was saying it. Sarah's grandmother was on her deathbed, and her brother called from Israel to say goodbye. Both of them were survivors of the Shoah. The rest of the family in Israel was also with him on the phone. They passed the phone around, and while I don't remember what was said, the following three lines will forever be ingrained in my memory:

Yeish harbeh ahavah bishvileich kan, Essie. (There is so much love for you here, Esther)

Through his cracking voice, I heard "Ani oheiv otach, achoti." (I love you, sister)

"Al tivkeh," she responded. "Al tivkeh." - Don’t cry.

Days later, we were called to Kaddish with the sounds of El Malei Rachamim. "Al tivki," I told Sarah's mom. "Al tivki." (Don't cry)

We remember those whom we have lost, and offer words of comfort to those in mourning as we join together on page 598.

10) Mourner's Kaddish

11) Closing Song - Hashmini
Chorus - Ti lai l’lai lai…
Verse - Hashmi’ini et kolech / Ki kolech arev umarech nave
Translation - Let me hear your voice for your voice is sweet and your countenance pleasant.

Some Thoughts

I think the service was really well received. Jay knocked the Muazin call to prayer out of the park. It was absolutely beautiful. When I had this idea in Turkey, I was really excited to hear Jay sing this piece, and he completely fulfilled my vision. I think people were truly called to their prayers in a different way, and one that hopefully got them to think more about how we are called to prayer. I know for me, hearing these different styles (secular with "Sounds of Silence," Jewish with traditional nusach, and Muslim with the Muazin) has opened my eyes to the words and sounds we use to call out to each other, to God, and to prayer, both communally and individually.

Of course, there were things we would do differently if we were to lead this service again. For example, my beginning piece felt a little long in its deliverance. I should have probably either shortened it or relied less on the written page. Further, Rabbi Donnell brought up the idea (and when he mentioned it, it was one of those, "how did we not think of that before!" moments) of including an aloud repetition of the Amidah, which would have perfectly tied in the theme and its application to the Amidah. Also, some people asked about the changes in "Sounds of Silence." We thought it would personalize the song and make it connect more to what we were talking about. Some people interpreted it differently than our intention. Oh well. Being a Monday Morning Quarterback is much easier than a better planner.

Overall, I am very proud of this service. I felt extremely nervous going into this service. While this was not my first rodeo, it was the first time leading services in front of this group. The standards of the students who came before me were extremely high. I hope I met those with my class. But beyond that, I hope I helped give future classmates the idea and permission to really think outside the box. I can't wait to see what my classmates come up with. Each one brings so much to the table and I can't wait to learn from each of them.

Lead Minchah: check.

Monday, September 12, 2011

For The Texts, They Are A Changing...

Yesterday during our afternoon prayer services (called Mincha in Hebrew), I found myself deeply connected to my experiences from 10 years ago. I sought out the ancient words in our siddur, prayerbook, for comfort and guidance. One selection in the Amidah, the 19 blessing central portion of Mincha, caught my eye (emphasis added):


And for wickedness, let there be no hope, / and may all the errant return to You, / and may the realm of wickedness be shattered. / Blessed are You, Adonai, whose will it is that the wicked vanish from the earth. -Mishkan T'filah
The idea of God eradicating wickedness from the world is a pretty awesome concept. I mean, let's face it: the world would be a much better place if all of the evil of the world, so much of it we felt 10 years ago, was gone.


Just because I know the Reform movement sometimes changes liturgy because of a slightly different, and more progressive, ideology than traditional Judaism, I decided to check the more traditional text of the same prayer (again, emphasis added):
For the slanderers let there be no hope, / and may all wickedness perish in an instant. / May all Your people's enemies swiftly be cut down. / May You swiftly uproot, crush, cast down / and humble the arrogant swiftly in our days. / Blessed are You, Lord, / who destroys enemies and humbles the arrogant. -Koren Siddur
The latter example is a much harsher text, but that is also because it is referring to something more specific than just eradicating the wicked. Curiously, this text originally was written as a response to the narrow-minded adherence to the ancient rites that split the Jewish world during the late Second Temple period. Further, it also suggests violent vengeance upon those who disagree with us.


One more time, just for fun-sies.


The text calls for God to "swiftly...crush" enemies and suggests violent vengeance upon those who disagree with us, specifically those who act out using God's name and teachings inappropriately.


One text invites God to get rid of wickedness. The other sub-textually invites us to use military force to enforce the word of God, more specifically, our accepted words of God the peaceful way we interpret them.


It's a challenging piece of text, no doubt. And I identify with the ideals of the first passage, no doubt. Yet it is important to acknowledge and embrace our historical tradition, even if we reject its ideals at the same time.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

My 9/11 Story (Sarah)

As some of you may know, I happened to be in Manhattan on September 11, 2001. My friend and I were visiting my grandma - one last trip before we headed to northern California to start our first year of college. Jeremy wanted us to each write about what we experienced on that day. I don't really like to think or talk about the events of that morning, but these are some thoughts I wrote down just a few days after the incident.

Reverance
Ballet class is over
I walk into the lobby
Gather around the radio
What happened?
Drops of sweat down my forehead transform to tears
The World Trade Centers have fallen
The world around me falls with them
Outside is 87th and Broadway
Hardly any cars on the street
I walk, downtown, alone
Millions of people trying to get home, uptown
A salmon moving upstream
Home is 64th and 1st
The walk is eternity
CNN and NBC replay the crash
I have to get away from the madness
The window offers an escape from the news, but not from life
Monday, I looked out and saw the New York skyline
Now I see smoke, clouds, debris
I move to the other window
Bridges are closed to traffic
Lanes are covered with people walking home
For me going home is impossible
Airports are closed for days
Friday morning I start driving
All flags at half mast
Cities are deserted
All marquis read God Bless America
Finally home Monday afternoon
I have left the city
The memory of the city will never leave me

My 9/11 Story


I woke up on Tuesday, September 11, 2001 at my usual wake-up time, 6:00 AM, in Scripps Ranch, San Diego. I had just started my 10th grade at Scripps Ranch High School, and my morning routine was pretty familiar by this point: wake up, walk down the hall a few minutes after my alarm, eat breakfast while watching CNN or some other news channel. When I was younger, it was ESPN, but around high school, I switched to CNN. Like everyone else that day, the images I saw when I walked down the hall were anything but normal.

As I walked into the living room, my mom informed me that it looked like a plane had hit a World Trade Center tower. Knowing a bit about aviation, I of course wanted to know about the plane - what kind was it? Who was flying it? And most importantly, what happened that it should hit the tower? These questions, though, were not answered right away, because as I sat down, at 6:03 AM PST, I watched the second plane hit the other tower. (The video below starts right around the time I walked out of the hallway) I assumed they were just showing a replay of the first plane. I remember turning to my mom and asking, "didn't you say only one plane hit?" We quickly learned that this was not a replay, but a second plane had actually hit the other tower of the World Trade Center.



"What's going on?"

Just like everyone else, that was the question that kept running through my head. 

I listened to the news while I was getting ready, and no one had concrete answers. Nearly everything at this point was speculation. Some sources said 3 planes had been hijacked, some said 5. My morning radio program -- Jeff & Jer, a comedic, light-hearted morning show -- were playing the audio from the television news while recapping the events and what they knew on top of the reporters. It created a cacophony of information, all the while trying desperately to answer "what's going on?" and "When will it stop?"

As my friend picked me up and drove me to school, we sat in the car numb to the news. "Was this really happening?" New York, the city that my friend would live in for school, was being attacked?

Of course, when we arrived at school, we didn't learn a single thing in class. We all huddled around the televisions, our teachers, too, were visibly shaken by these events. They, too, had no idea what was going on. We watched the first tower fall in first period. A little while later, we watched the second tower fall. Again, we asked, "Was this really happening?"

At lunch, everyone had different stories to tell. "I heard it's this group of people." "I'll bet it was this group of people." I had a bit of an advantage in making my prediction, though. The previous year, I had been a part of Junior Model United Nations. I knew all about Afghanistan, the Taliban, and Osama bin Laden. I remember hearing on the news, shortly before our lunch break, that the Taliban had made a statement expressing sorrow for the women and children. I remember thinking that it was odd for them to assume that all of the casualties would be men. But then my next thought, which I shared with my friend at lunch, was "Those fucking bastards. 10 bucks says they're behind it."

I was right. And I hated it.

Couldn't we have seen the writing on the walls after the bombing in the WTC parking structure? Couldn't we have done SOMETHING?!

I checked in with my family, and everyone was fine. They had come home from their offices and would see me when I got home.

I had math class right after lunch. I remember walking there shortly before lunch was over, just to keep watching the news and see if anything new had developed. I sat down and a filmmaker was showing his, and nearly the world's only, footage of the first plane hitting the tower. We later learned that he had been shooting a documentary about New York's firefighters, and eerily, the station that was the first to respond to the situation. As an aside, if you have not seen their documentary, it is worth checking out. Its sad irony is haunting. Yet, once class started, I remember my math teacher saying, "Look, I know this is all going on, but we've got a lesson. I'll keep the television on, but muted. When we get to the point in class where you can work individually, I'll turn the sound back on." We understood, and were not surprised. That was just the style of this math teacher. Of course, by this point in the day, nothing new was developing. The four planes were all down, and rescue and recovery operations were underway.

When I went home, I found my mom on the couch, watching the news. "I can't pull myself away," I remember her saying. As I sat down beside her, I had a similar sentiment. As we flipped through the channels, a number of them had placards saying that regular programming had been canceled as their thoughts and prayers were with the victims of this attack. I remember thinking it was interesting that a number of stations had the exact same placard, obviously because they were owned by the same media conglomerate. Truthfully, no one wanted to watch the Food Network that afternoon.

I don't remember much about what happened during the remainder of the day. I'm sure we continued watching a lot of news, checked in with family and friends, and shared our experiences from the day.

My story isn't terribly unique. Yet my purpose in sharing it is for posterity. When our kids ask, "Dad, what was it like for you on 9/11, this day that everyone talks about but a day to which I have no personal connection?" (of course, our kids will have impeccable grammar) I will have this story written down to share with them. 

It's easy to say that everything changed on 9/11. And it did. But what we should say is that everyONE changed. Everyone in a America felt the horror, sorrow, fear, and sense of purpose that Israelis feel on an unfortunately regular basis. Fortunately, America has not been hit with another attack on this scale. And God help us, and those that try to carry out such an event, if we do. 

As we remember September 11, 10 years later, in a foreign country, I'm reminded of one of the heroes of the day: Gregg Gerson, my friend who spent the evening of September 11 and the following days in the rubble, volunteering to save and find people. I'm reminded of the days that followed: the memorial services, the stirring speeches, hearing from my rabbi in New York that he lost a half-dozen congregants.

May the memories of those we lost be for a blessing. 

And may our memories of the day not paralyze us as we move on.

Friday, September 9, 2011

The Epic Tofurkey Adventure of 2011 - Day 3 (Part 4 of 12)


Day 3 – Saturday, August 27, 2011 – Istanbul

The next morning we got up early, had our breakfast, and walked the few blocks to the Blue Mosque. After waiting in a short line in the incredible courtyard, we were able to enter the mosque itself. The Sultan Ahmed Mosque, known also as the Blue Mosque for the blue tiles adorning the walls of its interior, was built in 1609 and is still used as a mosque today. The inside of the mosque is absolutely stunning, boasting more than 20,000 hand painted ceramic tiles and more than 200 stained glass windows. Though crowded with tourists, there was such a sense of peace inside the mosque. There were a few men praying, but the majority of the prayer area was empty. Words just cannot capture the incredible beauty of this house of worship. Hopefully our pictures below can give you a sense of what it was like inside. Across a small courtyard and park from the Blue Mosque sits the Aya Sofia, the next stop on our journey. The Aya Sofia was originally an orthodox patriarchal basilica, which was later turned into a mosque and even later into a museum. It was originally dedicated in 304, and used as a cathedral until 1453, when it was dedicated as a mosque. In 1935, it was opened as a museum. Unlike the traditional blues and whites of the inside of the Blue Mosque, Aya Sofia is decorated in a very ornate gilded style. The interior is covered in mosaics and paintings of angels, saints, and patriarchs of the church. From the upstairs balcony, we were able to really take in the grandeur of the space and appreciate both its history as a cathedral and a mosque – both traditions are equally present in the current architecture and decoration.

Following our morning of mosques we had a quick lunch in the square across from the Aya Sofia, then went down into the Basilica Cistern. This cistern is the largest of many cisterns that lie under the city of Istanbul (105,000 square feet), and was built in the 6th century. Once you go underground, there is an amazing array of columns holding the roof above the water that still collects in the cistern (complete with fish). Of note are two columns that have medusa heads as their bases, and another column covered in ornate teardrops. The cistern was lit in an incredibly beautiful way, making you feel like you're back 1500 years ago underground, exploring these pillars and pathways.

From the Basilica Cistern, we walked over to the Grand Bazaar. All six of us had really been looking forward to visiting the Bazaar, and after our visit to the spice market the day before, were expecting something like that, but on a larger scale. Boy were we wrong. The Grand Bazaar was lovely – clean, not too crowded, tons of shops, and easier to navigate than we were expecting. We entered the bazaar in what must have been the leather section, and slowly made our way into the center of the bazaar. We ambled along, turning when another small side street looked interesting, and just exploring all of the things that the bazaar has to offer. Since all 6 of us were interested in taking a Turkish lamp home with us, we spent some time looking in lamp shops. We weren't finding much that interested us, until we can across a small shop right in the center of the bazaar. Daniel and Leah went in first, and found beautiful lampshades that they put together in different colors to make a five-lamp hanging lamp. Abram and Leah found a copper lamp that they loved, and Jeremy and I found five lamps that we put together into a hanging piece for ourselves. The shop owners couldn't have been nicer. After a rocky start where one of the men electrocuted himself while trying to plug a lamp in, everything calmed down, the owners brought us tea, and we all found exactly what we were looking for. Our lamp is a collection of glass lamps, in blue, green, purple, red, and white. I can't wait to hang them when we get back to the states. Lamps in hand, we continued to explore the bazaar and Jeremy and I found a set of tea glasses we had been eyeing in the spice market, I found a beautiful scarf, Leah J. found a romper and beautiful earrings, and Leah and Abram found an incredible wall hanging with embroidered pomegranates.

While we could have spent another half a day just walking around the bazaar, we headed back to the hostel to drop things off and headed back out and across the river to the area of Beyoglu for dinner. We again took the light rail, followed by a funicular up the hill and past Abram's tower (also known as the Galata Tower). Beyoglu was a really cute young neighborhood on the northern part of the European side of Istanbul were we again climbed up to the top of a building to have dinner with a view of the bustling streets below. After yet another good meal, the six of us walked around the area for a little while and made our way to a hotel rooftop bar known for its amazing view of the city. Well, Lonely Planet guide to Turkey, you did not disappoint. From the roof of the hotel we had a 360 degree panorama of Istanbul. Looking around, we could see the financial district, residential parts of the city, bridges all the way up the river, many mosques, the palace, and the waterfront areas. Being able to see all of these places where the old meets the new and east meets west was truly breathtaking. 

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Epic Tofurkey Adventure of 2011 - Day 2 (Part 3 of 12)


Day 2 – Friday, August 26, 2011 – Istanbul

After a night of restless sleep due to our roommate we've dubbed "snorey-magoo," the six of us moved our things into our private room and headed up to the roof for breakfast. The meal included with our hostel consisted of tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, a hard-boiled egg, cheese, and some bread. After we picked at the plate of food for a while and caffeinated ourselves, we headed out for a full day of Istanbul sight seeing. We started our morning at Topkapi Palace, just a short walk from our hostel. Topkapi Palace, built in 1465, was the primary residence of the Ottoman Sultans for 400 years. We started at the Imperial Gate and worked our way through the first courtyard, the Gate of Salutation, and the second courtyard. From there, we visited the Imperial Council Hall, ornately decorated with frescos and panted tiles. Next came the Harem, which was room after room of amazing tile-work and architecture. We also visited the Imperial treasury where we were able to see jewelry, clothes, and furniture from the Ottoman Empire and the surrounding regions, including the second largest diamond in the world. After exploring the third and fourth circles of the palace and taking in some incredible views of the Bosphorus, we walked outside the palace gates to find some lunch. Just across the street we found Montana, with our first incredible waiter, 50 Cent (the name of a famous rapper). This guy was amazing – not only did we have a great meal, but it came with nicknames for all of us and arm wrestling with Jeremy and Leah J (neither of them won, by the way). If you’re interested in knowing, because I’m sure you are, my nickname was Madonna and Jeremy was Christiano Renaldo (a famous soccer player).

After lunch, the six of us walked down to the water where we boarded a ferryboat for a 2 hour cruise (go ahead, sing the song) along the Bosphorus River. This river divides Istanbul’s European and Asian parts – a true east meets west. The cruise took us up the European shore, turned around, and then took us down the Asian shore back to the harbor. It was so nice to be on the boat and enjoy the wind and the water, and we got a chance to see a lot of the palaces, fortresses, and homes along the banks of the river. When we got back to shore we stopped for a quick fish sandwich (being made with fish caught in the water about 10 feet away), then headed a few blocks away to the Spice Market. The Spice Market was awesome, and extremely reminiscent of the shuk in Jerusalem with lots of shopkeepers hoping to sell you their wares. My favorite stalls were the ones with the mounds of spices in every shape and color, though there were just as many stalls selling scarves, lamps, tea sets, and chachkas galore. We spent about an hour and a half exploring the market before returning to the hostel for some much needed nap time. When everyone woke up, we walked down the street to a cute little restaurant and had dinner on their top floor, overlooking the city and Aya Sofia. After a delicious dinner and another very friendly yet cheeky waiter, we walked over to the Ramadan art festival we had discovered the night before and enjoyed being immersed in the local flavor. There were vendors selling everything from roasted corn to chestnuts to cotton candy to freshly created candies, and artists with woodworking, glass blowing, marbling, jewelry, textiles, and everything in between.


Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Epic Tofurkey Adventure of 2011 - Day 1 (Part 2 of 12)


Day 1 – Thursday, August 25, 2011 – Tel Aviv to Istanbul

The six of us left Israel on Thursday afternoon, just a few hours after Jeremy, Daniel, and Abram finished their final class of the summer semester. We got into a sheirut (shared cab) right outside our house, then headed off to Ussishkin (street in Jerusalem) to pick up the Goodsteins and the Reisephs (note: Reiseph = Reiser + Joseph, as I have affectionately titled the Daniel + Leah pair). We arrived at the airport with plenty of time, and after a pre-flight snack – McDonalds because Jeremy really wanted to try the Israeli salad there (and he was very pleasantly surprised!) – boarded our Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul.

The airplane was surprisingly lovely and new. The plane’s first flight was in April of this year and entered into Turkish’s service in late May, meaning it had only been flown regularly for about 3 months. I’d say that’s the newest plane we’ve ever flown. The interior and seats were, of course, immaculate. Not just because they were new, but Turkish Airlines really takes the Turkish ideals of hospitality to the skies. The seats were all leather and very comfortable. We sat down to a wonderfully large touchscreen with a wealth of programming that could be accessed as soon as we sat down.  Options included a ton of movies, TV shows, documentaries, music, and the “flight show,” or flight path on a moving map. Throughout the flight, we watched some episodes of our favorite shows including The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother and Modern Family. The personal service was great including a pretty good meal served with real flatware and a fresh roll. Oh, and they had scotch. Jeremy indulged. After dinner service we were offered tea, which was, of course, delicious. Our arrival was slightly delayed because of traffic, which forced us into a holding pattern in the air and then a long inbound taxi. Yet, all in all, it was a wonderful 2 and a half hour flight experience.

We arrived in Istanbul, got our visas, and went through passport control. It turns out that you need a $20 tourist visa if you're on an American passport, but you don't need a visa at all if you travel on an Israeli passport. So while I normally travel outside of Israel on my American passport, I decided to save $20 and enter Turkey on my Israeli passport. Once outside the airport we easily found the light-rail train, and navigated our way through one change of lines to the Sultanahmet area of Istanbul. On our walk from the light rail to the Istanbul Hostel we walked through a huge art festival for Ramadan, which took us on a path right between the Blue Mosque and Aya Sofia. When we reached the hostel and checked in, the six of us headed up to the rooftop bar, where we could hear the sounds of the festival while overlooking the city, the river, and a lit-up Aya Sofia. While we were getting ready for bed, Jeremy cut his thumb open. Lesson learned: pack your razor in its own pocket so you don’t reach your hand into the big pocket and cut your thumb open. You’ll appreciate that when it’s late.


Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The Epic Tofurkey Adventure of 2011 - Introduction (Part 1 of 12)

Written by Sarah Gimbel, with additions from Jeremy Gimbel

August 25-September 3, 2011

Introduction

One Wednesday morning while the HUC YII 2011-12 significant others were sitting in a café and having coffee, Leah Goodstein, Leah Joseph, and I all realized that we were planning on traveling to Turkey during the semester break. It wasn't hard to decide that we should all plan a trip together. So, with the internet flight search skills of one Jeremy Gimbel and the cruise director prowess of one Leah Joseph we got our flights, set an amazing itinerary to see 4 cities in 9 days, and off we went!