Shavua Tov/Chodesh Tov

For those of you who who don't know, "Shavua Tov" means "A good week" and "Chodesh Tov" translates to "A good month." This refers to the fact that we have just begun the Hebrew month of Elul, which involves the countdown to the High Holidays and the daily blowing of the shofar. I've been familiar with the phrase "Shavua Tov" for many years, thanks to the campy song by that title that we would sing at the end of every Shabbat at Cedar Lake Camp, where I went for many, many summers as a kid: 

"Shavua Tov, may you have a good week

May you find the happiness you seek.

Shavua Tov, may your week be fine.

May it be as sweet as the Sabbath wine..."

Before coming to Israel, I had never heard the phrase "Chodesh Tov." In fact, when I went to minyan yesterday morning, I was very confused as to why the hazzan said Hallel and Musaf (two additional parts of the service), until I realized that it was a "Rosh Chodesh," or the beginning of a new month. But around here, the greeting "Chodesh Tov" is as commonplace as Shalom. I wish I had a chance to make it over to the Kotel to celebrate the new moon, as I've heard that it's the one time each month where the women's side of the wall is full of Ruach (spirit) and action. But I've got about eight or nine more new months to celebrate in Israel, so hopefully I'll get to experience that soon. 

Thus begins my first real week of classes here in Jerusalem, and the end of my first Shabbat. Although I had initially been so excited to explore different minyanim (congregations) in Israel, my roommate Leslie and I hosted a Kabbalat Shabbat and dinner right in our own apartment. Our guests included many of her HUC classmates, plus my JTS classmate Rebecca. You can't get much more ruach than by putting together a group of future clergy and Jewish educators in one room, and while the service definitely skewed towards the Reform, I was happy to revisit some of my favorite campy melodies. All in all, it was a great beginning to my first Shabbat in Jerusalem -- not to mention the fact that Leslie is an AMAZING cook. I might actually learn a few tricks in the kitchen this year! :)

While most of my colleagues spent Saturday morning at Moreshet Yisrael, the synagogue attached to the Conservative Yeshiva, I ventured into new territory by attending services at a minyan called Kol Haneshama in the German Colony neighborhood of Jerusalem. My otherwise peaceful walk there was interrupted by many cabs honking at me, thinking I needed a ride -- perhaps my shortish skirt gave me away as someone who might not necessarily observe Shabbat. Once I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that what had been described to me as a Reform congregation in the style of New York City's B'nai Jeshurun was actually quite similar to the Conservative services at Tufts Hillel -- a strong community feel, lots of ruach and a good combination of traditional nusach and congregational melodies. The congregation was celebrating an auf ruf and a Bat Mitzvah that morning, and the highlight was most definitely an adorable speech given by the brother of the Bat Mitzvah girl, who must have been around eight years old or so. The girl had a beautiful voice, and her Hebrew was impeccable -- so good, in fact, that I had to keep reminding myself that she's reading Torah in her native language! I'll definitely be back to Kol Haneshama, even though I have a whole list of other Jerusalem synagogues that I'm curious to explore.

I haven't yet decided what I'm doing this coming Shabbat, but stay tuned for an update on that as well as details of the beginning of my Ulpan class (intensive Hebrew bootcamp) and my involvement with the Jerusalem Gilbert and Sullivan Society's production of Yeoman of the Guard! It's certainly shaping up to be a "Chodesh Tov," and I wish the same to all of you. 

Seen in Jerusalem

I'm three days into my journey and I'm already gaining insight into Israeli culture far beyond what I experienced during my two previous visits here.

Exhibit A: Law enforcement (or the lack thereof) 

As in every city, street parking in Jerusalem is at a premium -- not to mention the fact that Israeli drivers are insane! On my walk over to the Conservative Yeshiva this morning, I observed the following: a gigantic SUV wedged into a parking spot that was waaaaay too small, so the driver angled his car and popped the front wheel onto the sidewalk so that he could fit into the space diagonally! 

You can't tell this from the picture, but there were no tickets on his window -- probably because Israeli police have security issues much more pressing than enforcing parking regulations to attend to. But then again, while guards are stationed outside most restaurants and stores, they seem to be lost in their own worlds. I'd like to think that this nonchalant attitude is just an act, and that the security guards are really ready to pounce at any minute. However, I've come to discover that many of them are actually pretty clueless. When I asked the man stationed outside the Conservative Yeshiva if I was in the right place, his answer was "I don't know." And when I finally located my Ulpan, no one could tell me what floor I needed to go to. It's slightly unnerving, and I suspect that some of the confusion is because of the language barrier. This was a far cry from the intense security I experienced while traveling on Birthright just three years ago. It almost seems as if people are burnt out. But the good news is that I've felt pretty safe here for the most part, except for occasional cat calls from sketchy old men...

Exhibit B: The economy

After living in New York, you would think that anywhere else in the world would seem cheap in comparison. But aside from my rent, I've found things in Israel to be much more expensive. In my search to buy a hair dryer, I had difficulty finding one for less than 150 sheckels, which is equal to over $40 US dollars! Refusing to succumb to the cost, I feared that I'd have to walk around with matted wet hair for the next year -- although the humidity would probably cancel out any efforts to dry my hair straight anyway. Thankfully, I eventually found one that was on sale for 69 sheckels, or about $20 

Speaking of sales, almost everything is on sale in Israel. In New York, I'm a total sucker for things on sale, especially if they're from the Ann Taylor Loft across the street from my apartment! But in Israel, the "sales" reflect prices that are already jacked up. My friend Rebecca tried to buy a book that was marked "50% off," and the cashier claimed that the savings were already reflected on the sticker. The book was priced at 139 sheckels (about $40) and I HIGHLY doubt that the original going price for the book was twice that amount -- though, as you'll see below, EVERYTHING in the bookstore was marked 50% off. Could it be that they think us Jews are cheap or something? :)

Exhibit C: Other random tidbits

For a city in which a sizable percentage of the population wears suits or skirts each day, I've had a surprisingly difficult time finding skirt hangers! The ones I did find were really expensive, so I opted to drape my skirts over regular hangers, despite the fact that they'll wrinkle. I wonder if the religious Jews splurge for the hangers, compulsively iron their clothes, or just wear the same thing every day. Thoughts? 

Contact lenses are readily available in Israeli pharmacies, with no need for a prescription! 

I was so excited to find a little taste of NYC in Jerusalem -- AKA Max Brenner: Chocolate By the Bald Man, but then I remembered that Max is Israeli and that the chain first opened here! 

The Israeli equivalent to Starbucks is called Cup O' Joe, and yes, the Hebrew letters in the photo literally spell out the store's English name. Unlike most coffee places abroad, they don't bat an eye when you ask for your coffee to go. To me, this is evident of just how many Jerusalemites are actually transplanted Americans. 

Maybe one of these days I'll post pictures of slightly more significance, especially since I hear that Jerusalem has some pretty famous historical sites (insert sarcasm here). Seriously, though, I've already seen Jerusalem through the eyes of a tourist, and it's been fascinating to discover what it is like to like to actually live here. 

First Class Treatment

Thanks to my dad's generosity with his frequent flier miles and the schizophrenic nature of airline prices, I somehow wound up with a business class flight to Israel for less points than a coach itinerary would have cost. Let me explain: In peak times like the summer, Delta charges double miles for coach tickets. HOWEVER, their business class rates remain the same, and sometimes they even run specials if you're willing to fly one of their partners (in my case, Continental). I was lucky enough to book my flight during one of these promotions, and wound up with one of those magical reclining seats that enabled me to sleep for almost the entire duration of the flight. The only time I was actually awake was when the food was served, and I'm so glad I didn't miss that! A three course dinner paired with unlimited wine and champagne was followed by a two course breakfast (I was too tired for a mimosa, though). Because I'm a huge nerd (and because I just got a new camera), I took pictures of the food and of the first class lounge. It's not everyday that I get to experience such pampering,  so I wanted to document this once-in-a-lifetime experience! 

    

  

Now I'm in my Jerusalem apartment, which is palatial compared to the NYC studio that I left! I should be unpacking, but instead I'm procrastinating by blogging. My first obstacle was figuring out how to get the blogspot homepage to appear in English, since the wireless network here apparently defaults to Hebrew. Maybe someday my Hebrew will be good enough to figure out the commands. For now, it's back to unpacking -- and as soon as I get the place in some semblance of order, I'll post pix!

Miss you all already...

The Wedding Singer

Singing the Sheva Brachot (seven blessings traditionally chanted in Jewish wedding ceremonies) when my friends Amy and Josh got married last summer was one of the major factors that put the cantorial school bug in my head. I enjoyed using music as a means for celebrating a simcha (a joyous occasion) and found that it was in many ways more satisfying than performing operatically. 

Over the weekend, I took things one step further by serving as the cantor (alongside an ordained Rabbi) in my cousin Beth's wedding to Ben. In most of the previous weddings that I've participated in, I sat in the front row and was called up when it was time to sing. This was the first time that I actually got to walk down the aisle and stand under the chuppah from start to finish. It was an experience that I look forward to repeating many, many more times as a cantor, but hopefully only once as a bride! 

As a wedding guest, I often find myself craning my neck over an entire row of people to get a good view of the processional. The cameras flash like crazy, but the people pass by so quickly that it's difficult for anyone other than the professional photographers to capture this part of the ceremony on film. 

But things look different from the bimah. The Rabbi and I walked down the aisle first, which afforded us a birds-eye view as we waited for the rest of the wedding party to join us. I have to practice not getting teary -- I was thisclose to crying as the bridesmaids, groomsmen, and my family entered the synagogue.  Had the tears actually manifested, it would not have made for very pretty singing!

My favorite part of every wedding is that moment right after the groom kisses his parents and stands under the chuppah to await the imminent arrival of his bride. This time, the music crescendoed as Aunt Ellen, beaming with pride, escorted Beth down the aisle. As is traditional in a Jewish wedding ceremony, Beth circled Ben seven times, sporting a uniquely tentative yet exuberant look on her face. 

The singing itself went pretty much as well as I could have hoped for. Wedding liturgy is incredibly beautiful, and there is much more of it out there that I look forward to exploring. Overall, it was a tremendous honor to play such an important role in this very special occasion. 

Speaking of weddings, Mazel Tov to Natalie and Chris -- they got engaged this weekend! :)

Tisporet

I never thought I would be able to trust a straight man in the fine art of cutting and styling hair, but Ruby is an exception. He also happens to be Israeli, and - as I learned on Friday - the Hebrew word for haircut is "tisporet." 

From the outside, Ruby's salon looks like a tiny hole in the wall - it's probably even smaller than my 450 sq foot studio apartment, which I vacated just yesterday (sad!) I remember being a bit skeptical when my mom first suggested I check him out, but his rates are reasonable and he happens to do great work. 

When I arrived for my 5:30 appointment on Friday, the shop was bustling with people rushing to get their hair styled before Shabbat. A man in a kippah seemed disgruntled to have the 6pm appointment immediately following mine; he was worried that he would not be finished before sundown. He arrived early and asked Ruby to please call him on his cell phone if by some miracle he finished early. 

The customers and staff chatted noisily in Hebrew, with the occasional snippet of Farsi, thanks to the sizable Persian population in Great Neck. In my attempts to translate the conversation around me, I managed to make out exactly three words: "Hamishim" (Fifty -- aka the going rate for a cut at Ruby); "Yom Rishon" (Sunday); and "haval al ha'zman" (an idiom that literally translates to "a waste of time"). Today the phrase is commonly used in referring to something that is totally awesome -- it's sort of like the Hebrew equivalent to "off the hook." I have Leat (the teacher of the Hebrew class I took at the Y) to thank for my cursory understanding of very basic "street Hebrew," but my overall knowledge of the language is, to say the least, beyond pathetic. I'm admittedly quite worried about battling the language barrier, but I'm hoping that a few solid months of Ulpan will have me chatting away like a pro. 

In other news, I'm quite pleased with my new tisporet!

The Sadder But "Y"-ser Girl

"In New York, they say you’re always looking for a job, a boyfriend, or an apartment – so lets say you have two out of three and they’re fabulous. Why do we let the one thing we don’t have affect how we feel about all the things we do have?" –Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

Up until Friday, I very happily had two out of the three – the fabulous job and the fabulous apartment. The only thing missing was the boyfriend. As of next Friday, when my sublettor moves into my apartment, I’ll have none of them. 

I would be terrified, except for the fact that I just realized that I was actually lucky enough to have all three things at this point last summer, yet I still managed to find plenty to complain about. Such is life.

Carrie would probably think I’m crazy for leaving behind a life that I’m perfectly content with to spend a year in a foreign country. Sometimes even I think I’m a little meshuggah for embarking on this journey, but the reality is that if I don’t try it, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Besides, even Carrie escaped to Paris with Aleksander Petrovsky, leaving her apartment and her column – the thing that defined her most – while keeping only the boyfriend. And when Aleks turned out to be a jerk, she was promptly rescued by Big and realized that the thing she needed most was right in front of her all along. Please note, however, that this does not mean that I approve of Big's subsequent behavior in the movie, but that's a whole other story...

Along similar lines, entering the cantorate may seem like an obvious way for me to combine my passions for the arts and Judaism while maintaining my constant need for intellectual stimulation; however, it took me many, many years to come to this conclusion for myself.

And so, 08/08/08 – a lucky triple date – marked not only my birthday and the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics, but also my last day of work at the 92nd Street Y. After spending the past year and a half promoting the Y’s programs as a publicist, I’d like to share some of the wonderful things I learned while working for this dynamic institution.  

Let’s start with this blog itself, which probably wouldn’t even be here had it not been for the Y. So much of PR these days centers around the blogosphere, especially since postings have the potential to be viewed by many, many more people than a story that appears in a print publication. I never used to pay much attention to blogs, but sharing an office with the Y’s web team and creating pretty paste-ups of the Y's blog coverage exposed me to the never-ending wealth of information that gets posted to the Internet by the second.

Outside of the office, I had many opportunities to attend programs at the Y.  Sometimes I actually sat in the beautiful Kaufmann Concert Hall, but other times I caught the simulcast of whatever lecture/concert was happening on a given night while running on the elliptical at the gym. Of course, I always felt weird wearing my sweaty gym clothes as I made my way through the well-dressed crowd in the lobby after the show, but otherwise it was certainly a wonderful way to multitask.

Some of the speakers I heard included Steve Colbert, Laura and Jenna Bush, Andy Borowitz (giving one of the most HILARIOUS lectures I have heard in my life – I could not stop laughing), Jeff Koons, and Tim Gunn. I also enjoyed the Lyrics and Lyrics concerts, one of which – the 1959 Broadway Songbook – was probably the best cabaret revue show I’ve ever seen – and I’m no easy critic! It incorporated the perfect blend of well-known classics and rare gems, making for an evening that was simultaneously educational and entertaining. I even had the chance to take the Y stage for myself, both in a master class with Broadway's Victoria Clark and in a solo recital for the 60+ program. 

Many of the luminaries who speak at the Y come as part of book tours, which means that sifting through the Y’s catalogue almost always yields an incredible reading list. I discovered writers like Calvin Trillin and Alex Witchel, and especially enjoyed A.J. Jacobs’ The Year of Living Biblically – a satire based on the notion that it is impossible to take the Bible completely literally in this day and age.

Then there were the personal growth and food programs, which fell into my own portfolio of PR responsibilities. In working on the publicity for these programs, I got to meet with experts on two of my favorite procrastination pastimes: crossword puzzles and Scrabble. As a result, my success rate at both increased tremendously! I also attended many, many incredible food and wine tastings, where I discovered delicacies like pesto goat cheese and strawberry rhubarb truffles – yum!

While I will most certainly go through Y withdrawal while I’m in Israel, I fully intend to return for lectures, concerts, and special events when I get back to NYC next summer. I especially look forward to visiting 92YTribeca, the new facility scheduled to open downtown this fall with programs geared especially towards the 20s/30s demographic.

My wonderful coworkers gave me the most perfect send-off gift – a yad, or a Torah pointer, which Torah readers use to keep their place while chanting. My tenure at the Y helped me realize how much I love working within the context of the Jewish community, and I’m excited that this gift from my Y colleagues will continue to guide me on my journey.

Did you guys get all that for the quote bank?

Oh, and props to anyone who can guess the musical theater reference in the title of this post…

Together But Not Equal

From today's New York Times Metropolitan Diary:

Dear Diary:

In a sweltering August more than 25 years ago, on a long subway ride with no seat available, I stood holding onto a rail. With my free hand I held up my Hebrew Torah text.

In the early ’80s it was still somewhat novel for women to chant from the Torah. My husband, then a young rabbi, had recruited me to chant all the Torah readings for the High Holy Day pulpit he had signed on for in Texas. And, indeed, preparing all that chanting was a Texas-size task!

As I mumbled along, singsonging the ancient words, I glanced up and saw an Orthodox Jewish man doing precisely the same thing. Our nanosecond of bonding was followed by the fellow’s look of extreme confusion, as he quickly refocused his eyes on his text.

The poor guy. I often wonder: Did he tell anyone of this moment of worlds colliding?

I know it's a long shot, but part of me hopes that the Orthodox man in question reads this column and writes a response. I'm curious to hear his side of the story -- according to Orthodox tradition, a man isn't technically supposed to listen to a woman sing, let alone read Torah. On the other hand, what if that woman was the only one in her congregation who could handle learning the entire High Holiday Torah reading? Which would the man find worse -- a woman reading Torah or no Torah reading at all?

Unfortunately, there remain several ultra-religious Jews who believe that congregations are better off with the latter. There are even a handful of non-egalitarian Conservative congregations in which women are not permitted on the bimah, such as the one I visited this past weekend for an auf ruf. It seems almost hypocritical for a synagogue that allows mixed seating -- ie, men and women davening together as equals -- to not have both men and women read from the Torah. It's kind of like the "separate but equal" policy in place during the civil rights movement, but in reverse: Together, but not equal. 

From my understanding, it seems that some modern Orthodox communities have begun to relax the restrictions placed on women. Women's minyans are emerging in which women are permitted to read Torah and daven for one another. They're still separate, but at least they get to experience what it feels like to lead a congregation. I am reminded of how I felt when I visited the Western Wall on Shabbat during my Birthright trip: The men were singing and dancing and having a grand ol' time on their side of the wall, while the women were more mellow and plaintive. The men seemed to be having all the fun, and I felt like I was missing out.

Despite the obstacles, Jewish women have nevertheless come a long way in the 25 years since the female Torah reader and the Orthodox man met on the subway. Women have taken on a much more significant role in Jewish leadership, as evidenced by the fact that the majority of my future JTS classmates are female. It is no longer a novelty for women to read from the Torah, and I think that even the most Orthodox Jews are beginning to realize that increasing the role of women in prayer is a step in the right direction for Jewish continuity.