First Shabbat in Jerusalem

The weekend in Israel is Friday and Saturday, rather than Saturday and Sunday. Friday is for getting ready for Shabbat. I had a somewhat restless Thursday night, so I didn’t manage to get up until 10:30 am on Friday. Then I really had to scurry to get to hasuper for my groceries; they close at 2:30 on Fridays, which is about the latest any place seems to stay open.

My nearest super isn’t very super at all, at least in size. It’s bigger than the tiny hole-in the-wall shops called makoliot (I’m hoping I got the plural right on this), but very small by American supermarket standards. Crowded and expensive, too. Next week I hope to get organized to take the bus to Mahaneh Yehudah, Jerusalem’s fabulous market. (BTW, mahaneh does not, as I once supposed, mean market — it means camp.) However, in a pinch the Co-op Shop is a ten minute walk away, and while it is pricey, it has a good selection of veggies and fruits, nice breads and cheeses, and a bit of everything else you might need.

I managed to carry my groceries back in my backpack — a rolling cart, like the ones you see old ladies using in New York, is clearly on my list of necessities. Like a fool, I didn’t buy any of the pomegranates, which are currently in season — next time!

After my grocery foray, my landlady dropped by to bring me a duvet — not that I need it now, I am sleeping with the window open, the fan going and only a sheet, it’s in the low seventies at night. But it will come in handy later. Jill is great landlady. She showed me how to work the stovetop, the oven, and the curious little European washing machine (mechonat k’vissah). Then she stayed to chat for a little.

Then my middle grand daughter, Yochi, dropped by with her husband Yoni and their daughter Golan. I promise to get you an up to date picture of this extremely cute child soon, but in the meantime, here’s an older one:

This prodigy brought me two little round challot that she made in gan (kindergarten — a gan is literally a garden). She was a bit shy, and very anxious to listen to a particular song on her mother’s iPhone, which of course none of us could understand the title of — was she speaking English or Hebrew? Not sure. At least it wasn’t “Baby Shark” (you can ask my other grand daughter, Ariel, about that one…oy!)

As Shabbat approached, I showered and changed and set out for services at the Mizmor leDavid minyan. It was about a 35 minute walk, but a pleasant one — not too hilly, with lots of nice apartment buildings to look at as the sun sank slowly, gilding the already golden Jerusalem stone. Sweet scents wafted from the gardens around the apartment blocks. Most of what is growing here is probably not native — it all reminds me very much of things I’ve seen in Southern California (where it’s not native, either). The ring-necked parakeets are also not native, and aren’t very good for the local environment, but I must confess I enjoy seeing the flocks of big, green, long-tailed, screechy birds flying over, just as I do in California.

Mizmor leDavid was just what I’d hoped for — a romping, stomping Kabbalat Shabbat service of Carlebach tunes. There’s a mechitza (barrier between the men and the women), but it’s not a very imposing one. The guys were really rocking out — the women less so, although some of us did get up and dance to the niggun (wordless tune) after Lecha Dodi (the song that welcomes Shabbat as a beautiful bride). I sat next to another new student, named Rachel, who just finished her years in the army. She’s from Canada originally. She claims to be shy — she wasn’t singing much — but she moved here on her own at the age of sixteen, went to a boarding school, and made aliyah four years later. In the army she served in foreign relations, and also in the civilian police force.

Four of us Pardesniks left the services after Kab. Shab. and walked a few blocks to the home of Rabbi Meesh Hammer-Kossoy, where we were welcomed for a delicious Shabbat dinner. Rabbi Meesh and her husband (another Yoni) are in their late thirties/early forties I would guess. Yoni’s elderly father was also there, and Meesh and Yoni’s two teenage sons, who were models of decorum and actually joined in the conversation. The two other Pardes students were David, who arrived two months ago from London, and Alden Solovy (I suggest you look him up — he’s an interesting man!), who lives here. They were each quite entertaining, and Mees and Yoni provided not only a big spread of delicious food (chicken, roasted potatoes, many side dishes with vegetables and the seeds of a pomegranate from their own tree) but also a very stimulating conversation. Since it was Shabbat Rosh Chodesh Elul – -the beginning of the month of Elul, in which we prepare for the Days of Awe –Yoni gave us a poem to mull over after dinner (in English), and Meesh had us musing on the weekly parsha (Torah portion) and the theme of Tzedakah, looking ahead to the liturgy of the High Holy Days when we say that t’shuvah, t’filah, u’tzedakah ma’avirin at roa hagzera — return/repentance, prayer, and doing acts of social justice can avert the severity of God’s decree for our year ahead.

All in all, I had not had such a stimulating conversation in — I’m not sure how long! I walked most of the way home with Rachel, learning about her astonishing background. When we parted ways, I felt completely safe walking in the warm night air, with people out everywhere, mostly religious, chatting and singing and enjoying the Sabbath.

Today I attended a picnic for Pardes students in a park near the school, which was also enjoyable, although a bit of a deja vu to my time in seminary. There weren’t many folks there my age….but the potluck food was good, the company was pleasant, and it was fun to hang out and “talk Jewish”, as well as singing songs and blessings together.

After a nap, I walked over to the nearby San Simon Park, which has a Greek Orthodox Monastery in its midst. This is a very popular place — it was full of families and people of all ages enjoying the Shabbat afternoon, playing, picnicking, and checking out the books in the little free libraries (this idea has evidently made it here from the states). The books were in Hebrew, Russian, French, and English. Around me I heard French, Spanish, Russian, and a good deal of American English — and a little Hebrew, here and there. I will have my work cut out for me to really speak much Hebrew here –one Pardes student told me, “That’s why I went to Middlebury to study Hebrew this summer!” (oh, the irony…) But I’m determined to use my Hebrew whenever I can — and since I am in a very French neighborhood, perhaps I will dust off my French as well!

Shabbat Shalom and Shavua tov from Jerusalem!