After the Chaggim: Post Prague, Mid Term Crunch, and Halloween?

Life in Israel follows the highs and lows of the Jewish calendar; the lows of Tisha B'av and Yom Kippur and the highs of Simchat Torah and Purim and everything in between. A commonly used phrase in Israel, that even my classmates and I began to adopt, is "After the Chaggim"-meaning after Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, and Simchat Torah. As my aunt and uncle pointed out, with all of these holidays it really is hard to get anything done during the months of September/October, or in the Jewish calendar, the month of Tishri. Somehow, this year, this Tishri, with all of its holidays both celebratory and reflective, really brought me into a new space. Maybe this was caused by the physical change in scenery. After all, I am living in Eretz Israel. Yom Kippur, a normal day in the states, is observed even by secular Jews in Israel (in their own way). The Jewish holidays take on a totally different shape in Israel.  On Yom Kippur all traffic stops. No one drives, and you can sit in the middle of the street. Although most secular Jews in Israel don't attend synagogue on Yom Kippur, it is often called by secular Jews, the Holiday of Bikes because instead of driving everyone takes their children outside to ride bikes. Sukkot is perhaps even more of an experience as sukkot (small hut like structures) can be spotted on just about every mirpeset (balcony) in Jerusalem, and when during Simchat Torah people take to dancing in the streets. What an odd and yet beautiful experience the HHDs (High Holy Days) are in Israel. There sure is nothing else like it.

In contrast to the high holidays in Israel, my trip with my aunt and uncle to Prague was more or less secular in contrast to the very Jewish space of Israel. There were no obvious signs of Jewish life--no sukkot, no giant Hebrew signs. It was odd to see signs not in Hebrew, most things were in English and Czech. In some ways it was refreshing to get away from school and to do be out of Israel. My trip gave me the first hint of fall! The leaves had begun to change in Prague. The air was cool, and it rained! Boy, did it rain. We had sprinkles during Sukkot in Israel (which is not the best of omens, but still beautiful for a rain lover like myself), but we had real rain in Prague. Prague sure knows its rain!  Prague, in addition to the simple existence of Fall, is by far the most beautiful city I have ever traveled to. I couldn't believe my eyes. The scenery was picturesque and the people were so kind, and oh the Jazz, and the meat and potatoes!

All of this relaxing, and eating, including a lovely reclusive shabbat following my travels, didn't quite prepare me for the onslaught of mid-terms. I am back to the grind of school, but I can't help but admit that I'm really looking forward to writing some of my first papers in months and to really dig deeper into my thoughts on prayer and God through our Mabat groups and Tefilah (Prayer) Journals.

Now, in contrast to midterms and the to-do lists that are piling up on my desk, we have this funny little thing that us silly Americans will be celebrating in Israel called Halloween-- filled with costumes (maybe even during our field trip to Qumran! Yes, we're going to where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered!), pumpkin flavored treats, and maybe even some candy corn. You can take the Americans out of the States, but Halloween stays. I think we're all looking forward to some time to let off a bit of steam in the wake of exams, and Halloween candy or whatever we can get our hands on in terms of candy will surely do the trick (pun intended). 

Here I am finally "After the Chaggim," and besides mid terms and looking forward to Halloween, I still really haven't figured out what this "After the Chaggim" means. What will my life look like in a few weeks when the year really gets into full swing? What more does this year have in store for me? All I know is I can't wait to find out.


Pictures of Prague coming soon!

Jew by Choice and Future Rabbi or Potential Threat?

I knew based on my aunt's experience after her conversion that my acceptance in some Jewish communities might be a slow process. I expected and accepted that orthodox and conservative Jews probably would not recognize me as Jewish because of my Reform conversion (even though I met with a beit din and immersed in a mikvah). I also came to terms with the fact that if I ever wanted to make aliyah it would be a daunting process to have my conversion recognized as legitimate. However, something I never expected was to go to Israel and then to be interrogated about the legitimacy of my Judaism, my conversion, and then to be searched in a special separate line, being singled out exclusively by my conversion. After attending a Jewish seminary, teaching Religious and Hebrew school, working at a JCC camp, getting into rabbinical school, getting a student visa for Israel, then moving to live in Israel for a year, I couldn't have imagined that I would be singled out for my conversion.

The first time I came to Israel there was a decent hullabaloo about my conversion process. I was traveling to  Israel for the first time on Birthright. I didn't know anyone on my trip, but boy was I excited. I'd been warned about the intimidating yet often gorgeous Israeli women who ask you questions before you get on an Israeli flight. I expected the intensity, and after that discussion my conversion and my Judaism were left alone. I was just another, albeit highly Jewishly educated, Jewish young person on a Birthright trip.

The way back to the US was another story. My trip went swimmingly, but my experience during the security process for my return to the states was something entirely new to me. I had been randomly selected once in the US for additional screening, but it wasn't a big deal. Now by additional I mean they put me in the "sniffer" (the drug sniffing machine) and then used the wand to detect any metal objects. Nothing out of the ordinary. In this case, on my way home from Israel, as soon as I told the mildly terrifying Israeli woman about my Jewish experience, she moved me to another line where they opened and explored my checked luggage, carry on, and purse. Because by this time an hour has passed, they zoomed me through to yet another security line where I was siphoned off yet again after dropping off my checked luggage. We did the whole process again with my purse and carry on. To be honest, that day, I was just ready to get home, and besides El Al's stupid rule about bringing water bottles on their planes (don't get my started), I didn't think anymore of the additional security I had to go through.

My experience with security at Ben Gurion before my flight to Prague was a very different day. When I told the woman who had begun my questioning that I had converted she asked more and more questions even going so far to ask for my conversion paperwork, which why on earth would I need to bring that with me to get to Prague? After calling a supervisor, she finally gave the three of us our passport stickers and we passed into the actual security line. Once at security, my aunt and uncle went ahead of me. I was told I needed to be in a different line and was escorted to a place where all of my bags were searched and wiped. I was humiliated. There was no doubt in my mind that all of this was caused by my admission that I was a Jew by Choice. After a while, I was told I could leave. My aunt and uncle asked where I'd gone. They hadn't even seen me leave. I was flustered and upset as I recounted what had happened. It wasn't a random search. It was absolutely intentional. After a cappuccino and a pastry, I felt a bit better, but still furious and confounded by the treatment I had received from the State of Israel, a place I love and hold close to my heart. When we got to our gate, I was  surprised again to be stopped, to be asked how long I would be in Prague and if I was returning to the U.S. They seemed okay with my responses but then took my ticket and only gave it back after a few minutes of explaining that I wouldn't know where my seat was. Before I got my ticket back, the woman with my ticket called someone.

   There is a definite and almost visceral sense of Jewish ethnocentricity in Israel, however, I never felt wholly outside of the Jewish people until now. I wasn't viewed as an American, as a student, or as a Jew, I was only seen as a convert, as somehow suspect of impersonating a Jew, and potential threat.

There have been some truly trying moments for my relationship with Israel this year. I've struggled, like so many others, to understand and to combat Israeli racism, intolerance and violence. I've struggled to see myself as Jewish enough for Israel, and as a proud progressive Jew. However, never for one minute was my conversion or my decision to become a rabbi questioned by my school or by my friends and colleagues.

What can I do about El Al's their terrible handling of this situation? I can complain. I can say how terrible it is that converts are treated this way. I can give them halakhic and social and religious reason why this is unjust, but what can I do about how disillusioned I am with Israel now? If all Jews are welcomed, where does that leave me? Guilty until proven innocent of really being Jewish? My new Jewish self, unlike the New Jew of the 20s and 30s isn't wanted. Where does all of this leave me?

First off, it leaves me (somehow) still with an interest in traveling despite how difficult it will likely continue to be to get out of and to re-enter Israel. Secondly, it leaves me in a complicated space where my relationship with Israel is on the rocks. What do I do about my future flights to Europe this year or to Israel in the future? I can't lie, and I don't want to. I'm proud to be a Jew by Choice, but it might just come down to that. Finally, it leaves me with a sense of loss, a loss of trust, of faith, but it also gives me a deeper commitment to breaking down racial and religious stereotypes that leave me and people like me open to scrutiny and judgement.