NFTY, I'm shaking what?

Sukkot is a holiday that is really about joy. We are commanded to be happy. We build a booth outside in the elements of the weather to show God that we trust and depend on him. We are told to dwell in the booth/sukkah that we made. The rabbis interpreted this to mean that we eat and sleep in it.

So, great, I will build a booth, eat and sleep in it, and be happy. But we all know there is something else that has to do with Sukkah...the four species, or better known at the lulav and etrog. And we're suppose to shake it...

In Leviticus 23:40 the Torah names them these four plants:

• ets hadar (פרי עֵץ הָדָר ) magnificent trees
• tamar (כפות תמרים) palm trees
• ets avoth (עֵץ־עָבֹת) boughs of thick trees
• aravah (ערבי נחל) willows of the brook

The terms we are more familiar with now come from the Talmud:

• etrog (אתרוג) – the fruit of a citron tree
• lulav (לולב) – a ripe, green, closed frond from a date palm tree
• hadass (הדס) – boughs with leaves from the myrtle tree
• aravah (ערבה) – branches with leaves from the willow tree*

Why these specific four species of plants and why did God command us to gather them? One thing that is very cool, is that all the plants grow in the land of Israel. By gathering these plants God is taking us through our Jewish history. It's almost the same route that we took this summer on our NFTY in Israel trip. 

We were wandering in the desert, lost and following Moshe. I'm sure you can remember seeing from your bus window all the oases with palm trees in the middle of the desert. Those are the same date palms (lulav) that we use on sukkot. 

When Bnei-Israel (the Jewish people) entered the land of Israel that God gave them, they had to cross the Jordan River.  Not only did we cross the Jordan, we rafted down it. If you would have stopped paddling (or splashing your friends) and looked around, you were have seen willows lining the banks. The same willows (aravah) that we collect and use. 

In Jerusalem we talked about the first and second temples (the first built by Solomon and the second built by Herod.) All of Jewish life was centered around the Temple, and Jews would make pilgrimages to Jerusalem...I'm sure you're catching on by now. On the hilly country sides that surround Jerusalem, it's the perfect place for myrtle (Hadas) to grow.  

After the destruction of the Temple, Jews started to settle in other places. One of those places was the coastal plain region, all the way up and down the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. Can remember sitting at the Port of Yafo talking about the geography of the land? I'm sure your guide told you about the delicious oranges that are grown still to this day. But another famous citrus that is grown there is the etrog from the citron tree. 

I'm sure you're amazed! It's really awesome if you think about it. God is reminding us of how He brought us into the land of Israel and how we settled . Another interesting thing, is that all of these plants need a lot of water to grow. And as I'm sure you all remember from your rainless trip, Israel doesn't have a lot of water. So once again we are reminded about how we need God to provide rain for us. 

One last cool thing to think about when you're shaking away. All the four species come from different parts of Israel.

• etrog (אתרוג) – the west - along the Mediterranean Sea 
• lulav (לולב) – the south - in the Arava Desert
• hadass (הדס) – the east - in the Judean Hills 
• aravah (ערבה) – the north - along the Jordan River

Just like you did, in order to collect these plants, you have to go ALL over Israel. I hope you think a little more about Israel this year when you're holding your four species! HAPPY SHAKING!! 

Group 9 (Summer 2013) in Yafo - I'm sure there were etrogs near by! 

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_Species

A NFTY Gmar Chatima Tova (A good signing into the book of life.)

During Yom Kippur, we are commanded to "afflict ourselves." "עינוי נפש" The gemara has a very lengthy discussion of what this could mean. Does it mean we don't have sexual relations, does it mean we physically hurt ourselves? No, the gemara concludes, it means that we don't eat or drink. But how do we know that? 

One of the proofs the gemara brings is that we were also afflicted and starving in the desert and it's the same word עינוי (affliction.) And since we were starving before God brought the ma'an to feed us, we know that we don't eat and drink. (Maybe a stretch, but that's what the gemara says.) So how is the desert like fasting? Why do the rabbis in the gemara make this connection?

Any NFTY in Israel alumni knows that there is definitely affliction when someone wanders in the desert. In every NFTY in Israel trip, hike for three days in the Arava desert, we sleep outside, we complain, we moan...this desert is the same desert that Moshe and the Israelites wandered through. 

Why did God afflict us in the desert? God just brought us out of Egypt and out of slavery, isn't it a time to provide for us and take care of us? I want to suggest that the desert is where religious experience begins. We go to a place where you have no where to hide. It's an open, vast, and dangerous place. When we fast and don't have food and water, we become more like animals following instincts of survival. Fasting is about confronting your nefesh/self/soul. One is forced to face the physical side of being.  

The desert is about a journey and so is Yom Kippur. It's not just about the day, or the time in the desert. It's what we take from it and how we grow and become better. From this weak vulnerable state, how do we act, behave, and change? How do we come out of Yom Kippur? I know that all four of my NFTY groups came out of the desert as better people. They all overcame challenges. They were patient, strong, and helped others. I wish all of you the same for Yom Kippur, when you're tired, hunger, and cranky, that you all still have patience and love for one another. That you confront God from not just an emotional and mental place, but also a vulnerable and physical place. And ask God for forgiveness and for a wonderful future. 

So NFTY, if you're sitting in services, and not feeling connected, think about the desert, think about how you grew and changed. You are a better person, probably for many challenges you faced this year, but also because of the times you were most vulnerable and came out triumphant. That's what Yom Kippur is about...going into a vulnerable state to become a better person. Be proud of yourself. 

I wish you all a meaning fast and Yom Kippur. Gmar chatima tova! גמר חתימה טובה! 

 Our not so afflicted selves in the desert this past summer! Happily overcoming challenges together!

Thirty Days of Tzitzit

The sunset this evening brought an end to my thirty days of wearing tzitzit. Like any Jewish ritual/mitzvah that I have taken on, I started out by "trying it out." So I thought this was a good approach to wearing tzitzit also. Thirty days, why not? They say that is how long it takes for something to become a habit.

Traditionally, only religious/observant men wear tzitzit. It is commanded in the Torah to wear fringes on your garments. And tzitzit is how it is been interpreted throughout the generations. Wikipedia says:

The Torah states in Numbers 15:38: "Speak to the children of Israel, and say to them, that they shall make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout their generations, and they shall put on the corner fringe a blue (tekhelet) thread." Wearing the tzitzit is also commanded in Deuteronomy 22:12: "You shall make yourself twisted threads, on the four corners of your garment with which you cover yourself."

Fringes, tzitziyot, today are attached to the tallit and tallit katan. The tallit katan itself is commonly referred to as tzitzit. According to the Torah, the purpose of wearing tzitzit is to remind Jews of their religious obligations. In addition, it serves as a reminder of the Exodus from Egypt (Numbers 15:40). The Talmud equates its observance with that of all the mitzvot. Maimonides (Commentary on Pirkei Avot 2:1) includes it as a major commandment along with circumcision and the Passover offering.

I wanted to see if I too would be reminded of my religious obligations, or as a reminder that I too was a slave freed from Egypt...if nothing else, maybe it would remind me to be nicer to other people.

So a month ago, I bought tzitzit...boy size, it was similar to a t-shirt...and I cut it so I could wear it under my clothes. I'm sure it would look weird to wear a t-shirt under a tanktop. It was right before Shabbat, so I wear them to my teacher's house where I was spending Shabbat. It was exciting! I felt like a had a special secret, that only my roommate and I knew about. I didn't wear them for Kabbalah Shabbat because you could see them under my dress, but I wore them Shabbat morning to pray and all day and that was really nice to have them on. I felt special, maybe it was like wearing a new piece of clothing that you just bought and wanted to show it off, (even though no one could see them, I knew I had them on.) 

I definitely learned that tzitzit are not designed to be hidden under women's clothing. One day, I wore shorts to school. I didn't think they were so "short" and anyone who knows me, knows that I don't wear very promiscuous clothing, but when I tried to tuck the tzitzit into the shorts, I realized that they would come out the bottom of the shorts...was I allowed to cut them? How long did they really have to be? 

Me wearing tzitzit...I get that you can't see them...that's the point.

I didn't want to have to change my entire wardrobe just to wear them. I asked my teacher at school, "if someone would wear tzitzit, how long do they have to be? Could they be cut shorter..." He said the strings have to be twice as long as the knot part. Fair...I asked, "but what if they really don't want anyone to see them, and they are longer than this person's shorts." Without batting an eye he said, "Andrea, wear longer skirts..." Hmm...

So, really, I wore a lot of skirts this past month. It was the easiest way to hide them. I know you may be thinking, "Why does she have to hide them?" Well, I don't like being stared at...it really is a male mitzvah traditionally. I don't know if Jerusalem is ready for girls walking around with tzitzit blowing in the wind. But it would be awesome if the Jewish world was ready for it. 

This past Sunday, my Hebrew birthday, Rosh Chodesh Tammuz...I went to the Kotel to pray with Women of the Wall like I do every month. Because of the violence the month before, when I put the tzitzit on in the morning, it really felt like a bullet proof vest. They were protecting me. Way deep down next to my skin. And at the kotel, I pulled them out. No one in that minyan would be judging me for my religious practices, I was sure of it. 

My favorite time wearing them was in my house when I just had them on and nothing covering them. They have big slits up the sides, so it's definitely not the most modest thing to wear, but in my house it was nice. They were relaxing. 

Most of my relationship with my tzitzit was trying to hide them. I would like someone to design tzitzit for women. Then half the battle of wearing them wouldn't exist because they would lay and fit nicely under clothes. 

Not sure what's going to happen tomorrow...if I will put them on or not. I have basketball in the morning, so I definitely won't wear them for that..but after? I may feel obligated tomorrow...we'll see what happens. 

Rosh Chodesh Sivan at the Kotel

Watch the actual video: here. 

Friday morning was a blur. A scary blur. I didn’t wake up until 6:24 AM when my roommate screamed, “WIESE.” And I jumped out of bed, how could this happen, on a day that was so important to me? Never mind...we jumped in a taxi and I ran down to the women’s section with my bag. I couldn’t even get to the regular spot because there was a sea of light blue shirts of seminary girls from all over Israel. I quickly realized that they had been bussed in for the exact opposite reason I was there. I ran into my dear friend, and later saviour, Melissa. She was also lost. We didn’t know where “Women of the Wall” (WOW) was praying because there wasn’t space where they normally gather. (Smart thinking ultra-orthodox girls...if there isn’t space, maybe they can’t pray at the Kotel. Makes sense.) We went down together into the sea of blue, maybe they were there somewhere. They weren’t. But it was time to daven, so Melissa started pezukei dezimra (the “warm up” blessings, as I like to call them,) while I started to put on my tefillin. It was worse than the paparazzi that normally come to women of the wall. The girls thought they were seeing an alien or the devil...it was true what their rabbi told them, there are women who put on tefillin! They started taking pictures of my and then scuttled away, they didn’t want to be too close, maybe I could contaminate them. Many were already tisking at the action. But then, I pulled out my tallit (I know I should put on my tallit first and then tefillin, but there isn’t a lot of space and it’s difficult, so I reverse the order,) it was like poison. The girls backed away like if touching it would burn them, or something worse.  They started making this hissing noise, I have never heard such a frightening/bizarre noise in my life. No one wanted to talk to me, it was too shocking to them. And I was there alone with my tallit and tefillin. I still didn’t know where the other women were. Melissa had finished pezukei dezimra and she looked at me, we knew we had to get out of there. It wasn’t safe. I was already flustered. Melissa, calm and cool, took my hand and started leading me up. We realized the other women were by the flag pole, behind the mechitza (the wall that divided the men’s and women’s section.) I knew what they thought of me, I started feeling showers of spit pouring down on me from every direction. They really couldn’t have thought that I was human. I’m sure their rav (rabbi) told them that someone like me was the devil and desecrating HaShem (God.) But what did they think of Melissa, or us together? Melissa is, for one, a hero and role model of mine, and two, she is religious, and she dresses the part. As in, she wears long skirts, covers her arms, and since she is married, covers her head. She is what these girls would view as religious, more like them than like me. She was holding my hand and helping, saving, protecting me from them. After one girl spit on me I asked her in Hebrew, “Really, you think this is respectful to God? What are you doing?” She was so shocked, one that I knew Hebrew, and secondly, that I talked to her. She seemed really embarrassed and freighted. She hid her face from me, she didn’t want to talk to me and she didn’t want me to address her. But I hope I made her think.

Somehow, through the yelling and spitting, we made our way through the mass of girls. I realized that the Women of the Wall, had been barricaded in and there were police lining the barricade to protect them. There were men and women praying together (which was new) it was forced this way by the Haredim. This isn’t the mission statement of WOW. But I was so flustered by the previous events, it was hard to concentrate on praying. I didn’t want to go into the group of “regulars” from WOW that were praying together up at the front. I didn’t want to be in all the pictures and have cameras in my face. What was happening? We were surrounded by ultra-orthodox men and women throwing bottles, chairs, coffee grounds, throwing bags of excrement, blowing whistles to disrupt the prayers. And screaming. They would rush in mobs against the police is had to use all their might to hold them back.  

Throwing chairs

Police restraining - who knows what they would have done if they got through.

All of it was too much to take in. I found my friends (male and female), and even though I don’t prefer it, it was nice to stand next to them, I felt much safer. We sang Hallel, and I was next to a very dear Israeli friend of mine who is very secular, isn’t religious at all, but he really supports WOW. He didn’t know the prayers, so we shared a siddur, and it was such a wonderful moment for me to be there with him and to pray and praise God (I don’t know if he actually believes in God) together.  I glanced around and saw many smiling faces of my friends and people who I didn’t know, but recognized me, either from the street or the newspapers, or just smiled because we were all in this together. No one was going to let anything happen to someone else.

Me and my friend, Shai, after davening.

There was also a little girl, 12 years old, who read Torah and celebrated her Bat Mitzvah that took place only a week before. Her mother held her on her shoulders and everyone cheered and clapped and sang at the top of our lungs. Despite the disgusting situation, it was so easy to focus on this beauty. The first Bat Mitzvah at the Kotel...maybe ever?

Mazal tov, beautiful young lady, you fill my heart with such joy and hope...

The other amazing thing, four months ago, when I was terrified to put on my tefillin, the only one, the first...in every newspaper, noted in one headline as a “Crack in the Wall;” on Friday there were numerous women in tefillin! This is a common practice. Listen, world, women wear tefillin and tallitot, it’s not a novelty. It is real and happening and it’s happening in Israel, not just the United States.  

Later that day my mom sent me a text message saying that she and my cousin were going to a Women of the Wall demonstration in Chicago. I felt so much pride and courage. My mom doesn’t know so much about Judaism, even though she is very involved in our Temple where I grew up. But there has always been something in her that pushed her to be Jewish. She wanted us to be Jewish even though she couldn’t/didn’t know how to raise us with so much Jewish tradition in our home. So maybe I inspired her as much as she has inspired me. I wish we could have been physically together, either in Jerusalem or Chicago, but maybe in some way we were. I could never be the woman I am without her. She is with me everywhere and in everything I do. Even though she has never worn tallit or tefillin in her life, I know she gives me the courage to do it myself.

Something that I’m still thinking about, and I don’t totally know how I feel about it is how extraordinary it was that thousands of young women came to a protest. I understand that they are on the opposite side and maybe they feel like they are only listening to their rav. And maybe they think I am the devil and that I’m going to hell.  But I see this as an important step. These young women are taking a stand, someone is empowering them. I know this isn’t their rabbis intention, but I KNOW that some of them were thinking for themselves. Some of them realized how different this was. Some of them had to think, maybe there is another way to pray. Maybe there are other ways to be Jewish. Maybe I can also read Torah, maybe I can pray out loud, maybe I could come here by myself. I don’t agree with the spitting, but I do agree with standing up for what you believe in. (maybe they were just following blindly,) but even this is okay. Some of them will get it, something will click inside of them. Women are smart, even if they have been brainwashed their whole lives.

Suddenly, I realized that I had to somehow get out and go home. But how? Surrounded by thousands of ultra-orthodox, the police told me I should wait and not go out yet. It wasn’t safe. Eventually, after much contemplation, I just went for it. My roommate, who is 6’7” was with me. I assumed nothing could go wrong. We encountered more yelling and more spitting, but nothing too serious. Before I knew it, we were at the gate. There, to my delight was my favorite policeman, who just a few months earlier, was instructed to take my tallit away from me. That day he had said that he didn’t want to take it from me and that he really liked when we came and sang. And now, we embraced. I joked with him, “Why are you out here, all the action is inside?” He smiled, I knew his post was near the metal detector. He told me how excited it was that things are changing, “Kol Hakavod, it’s happening!” The police behind him was also excited and said make sure you come back next month, the time is now, the Haredim can’t win! The women have to be strong.

We got into a taxi and drove home, out away from the surrealism that just occurred in our lives. I went to play basketball for three years and ran out all the adrenaline that had built up from fear, joy, terror, and hope. I have to say that I played horribly. But I will use the excuse that there were other things on my mind, there was still human spit on my body. But life goes on, and there will be next month, and the month after. There will be more tallitot, their will be more tefillin, their will be more women, and there will be more prayers. And I know God will answer them.  

A heavy responsibility.

This is my fourth summer working for NFTY in Israel. The past three summers I have been in charge of my group and logistics, but this summer I am also going to be the tour guide.  I have been in a course for the past few months going around Israel to learn about the different sites that we take the participants. Our trip also includes a week in Europe at the beginning (and then 4 weeks in Israel.) The trip is called L'dor v'dor, from generation to generation. We also had a trip with the other guides to Europe, to Prague, Krakow, and Warsaw. This was the fifth time in my life I have been to these locations, so the shock-factor wasn't part of my experience. But I did feel a new sense of responsibility, more than just keeping my group safe and on time, I felt a sense of Jewish history and continuity on my shoulders. It is now my responsibility to teach about the Jewish life that was lost and inspire the Jewish life that we have an obligation to continue.

I am guiding in the "Secret Synagogue" at the Terezin concentration camp which is located outside of Prague, Czech Republic. Jews risked their lives every time they snuck into pray. The synagogue was kept such a secret that it wasn't discovered until many years after the war. 

Evalina and me at Auschwitz I. She was our guide at the site. She was born very near the camp in Poland and expressed that she feels it is her responsibility to teach about what happened here. She also feels sad that her country is defined by six years of history, '39-'45, when really there is 700 years of Polish history. She is a very inspiring woman. 

I am excited to meet my participants in June in Prague. I know we will have quite the journey together. 

Gefilta fish making!

I am in the US and today with my mom and my great great aunt Eki, we made (homemade) gefilta fish!  I always have a hesitation when coming home because I have become more observant over the past four years in Israel, but today, I felt very Jewish and really proud of my family's Jewish identity. 

This bowl is famous and massive. There is about 15 to 20 pounds of fish in here! 

Me and Eki! You are no idea how bad is actually smells in the kitchen! 

Lots of generations. There is a true Litvak recipe passed down many generations. 

My cousin Larry let us use his kitchen! He helped a lot too! 

It's really gross, when you boil the fish, you use this broth that we made...you can see the fish bones in there...this isn't for the faint of heart. 

Today I really felt a strong connection to my Jewish roots, and it happened in Chicago. It was a great feeling. And of course, wonderful to be with family. I hope you have a wonderful Pesach! With lots of gefilta fish! 

Dvar Torah

I wrote a Dvar Torah for school. It can be read here!

http://theseandthose.pardes.org/2013/03/06/pcje-dvar-torah-midrashic-messages-by-andrea-wiese/

Enjoy and Shabbat shalom!

Rosh Hodesh Adar at the Kotel

We went to the Kotel (Western Wall) to pray this morning for Rosh Hodesh Adar. It started last night organizing taxis for everyone from Pardes who wanted to go. This morning, I woke up at 5:30...I made the decision to wrap my arm tefillin and wear my coat over it. I wrapped it until my wrist, so under my coat it couldn't be seen going through security.  I put my Rosh (head) tefillin in my inside jacket pocket.  

I met three other people from Pardes at 6:30am to get a taxi to the Kotel. We waited in line at security. They took my tallit and wouldn't let me enter with it. They also took my empty tefillin bag. They didn't know that it was already on my body. Honestly, I didn't want them for protesting. I lay tefillin every morning, and it's difficult for me to daven shacharit (the morning prayers) without tefillin now. There is a connection that comes with the tefillin. There is also a connection with the tallit, but as I told the reporters after they took my tallit, I want to pray at the Kotel, that's why I came, so I'm willing to give up my tallit to be able to pray there on Rosh Hodesh. 

This picture was taken from Rabbi Jason Miller's blog. 

In the picture above, I am in the green coat with my kippah and tefillin.  I didn't put it on right away. I did pesuki (the "warm up" prayers) but by the time we got to the Shema, I just felt like I couldn't keep praying without it. So I was holding it in my hands, and before the Amida, I put it on my head. I was really scared. I thought at any moment the police would come and take me away. But nothing happened. Nothing at all, it was amazing. 

So when we got to Hallel (an added part of the holiday that is joyous.) it was time to dance! I asked a couple of girls next to me, who were a little nervous, but then I took their hands and led them to the front, and instantly, tons of women were dancing and singing and praising God at the Kotel. It always feels so good to dance during Hallel. 

This was just a bit of dancing at the end. We were all dancing in during Hallel!! It was beautiful. 

As soon as Hallel was over, I took off the Rosh Tefillin. This picture was in the Haaretz newspaper. There were many cameras in my face, so I prayed mostly with my eyes closed because it's very difficult to have good intention with so much distraction.  I was really nervous the whole time I had my tefillin on, but I felt so proud. I also have a spot at the Kotel, I am a Jew, it's also for me. And everyday I pray with my tefillin, so why shouldn't I be able to also practice how I practice at the Kotel? I should be able to! 

In the end, 10 women got arrested. Including Sarah Silverman's sister, who is a rabbi. They were held for a longer time than usual because they didn't agree to not come back to the Kotel for 30 days which is the normal punishment. Also, paratroops who liberated the Kotel in 1967 went to the wall to support the women, it was really amazing to see them there. 

I am proud of the women who went to the Kotel today.  I am confident that the laws of the Kotel are going to change. And it's going to change soon. 

Azkara for Janet Robbin

One thing that is very real lately at Pardes is the Jewish life cycle, particularly, the end. Last week many students traveled to Alon Shvut to support Zvi Hirschfield at the funeral of his father. And just last night, many students are people from the community gathered in the Beit Midrash for an azkara or a type of “remembering” of Janet Robbin.

Janet Robbin was the mother of Sheryl Robbin, Rav Daniel Landes, wife. Rav Landes is the Rosh Yishiva at Pardes. Janet Robbin was also the grandmother of Hannah and Isaac Landes who I have become close with over the past year and a half at Pardes because the Landes’ always invite students to their home for Shabbat and holidays. If you have never met anyone of the Landes’, all I can say is that they are all lovely and unique, each with their own wonderful qualities.

Not that remember someone isn’t important, but my love for this family is the real reason that I attended the gathering last night. It was very simple and elegant. Rav Landes welcomed everyone and introduced Janet and who she was and he talked about her very fondly.

Hannah read Psalm 128 which had a special meaning to the family. For Janet’s 35 wedding anniversary the family had a piece of art work made as a gift. In a ל and ה, which is the gematria for 35, this psalm had been written.

Cheryl talked in great detail about her mother and how her health had deteriorated over the past years, yet she still called her at least five times a week at 4:30 Chicago time. Also, she described how hard her sister, who still lives in Chicago, worked to take such wonderful care of their mother. It was evident that it was difficult for Cheryl to live such a great distance from her mother, but that it was obvious that her life, family, and home are in Israel.  I cried the most when Cheryl talked about how much she loved spending time with her grandchildren, even one day. When Janet knew she wouldn’t like the planned activity, it didn’t matter because it was one more day she got to be with her family, specifically her grandchildren.

One story I really thought was amazing was that WWII, Janet’s husband was stuck in a POW camp. One of his postcards was the only correspondence that made it out during the war and he had written the names of other men who were alive in the camp with him. With this information, Janet wrote to the war department and to all the wives/families of the men whose names were on the postcard to let them know that their loved one was alive.

My favorite part of her stories about her mother, was that they mostly took place in Chicago, or Highland Park. (I am from northwest Indiana, but my mom’s family is all still living on the north side of Chicago) I was thrilled to recognize the names of the streets that she drove on with her mom, the area of the lake that they would visit, or where they took Janet for an outdoor concert. It sounds silly, but I was really happy to have some sort of connection to their family, even if it was insignificant. To me, I felt like I could have been in the same Dunkin Donuts, or the same beach.

To close, Isaac, taught part of Mishnah Bikorim, Zeraim. I learned last week that something people do in remembrance of someone is to learn Mishnah. I really love this custom. Isaac talked about how during the times of the Beit HaMikdash, people would bring their first fruits to the Temple. It was a big to-do, even the cow was dressed up with a crown of olive leaves and gold ribbons hanging from the horns. It was a celebration. Just as the bikorim was a celebration, the azkara felt like a celebration of life as well.

Although I have spent time with Rav Landes and his family. This was really a beautiful evening because they all showed and demonstrated so much support for each other. Each had their own role in the azkara, but every part was from the heart. I really look up to Rav Landes as the Rosh Yeshiva of my school, but now even more, I look up to him as a husband and a father, and a more complete role model.

I am saddened that I have to learn about Judaism through someone else’s pain. But I am grateful to be learning and witnessing how Judaism has set a system to guide people through their most difficult (and also most joyous) times. Everyday I am more amazed by what I am learning and how I am growing.

Voting in Israel

This morning on the street was quite like a chag/holiday. No one was working because it was election day. Most of the people who were out were on their way to vote, just like me! I didn't actually know where the place was that I was suppose to vote, but when I arrived, I knew that I was in the right spot.

There were banners from most of the parties hanging outside and there were reporters setting up their spots. 

I went in, everyone has a number. My number was 965. It really just directed me to a room. And probably to this list, below.

They found my name on this list... אנדריאה לאה וייס. I told them it was my first time and I didn't know what to do. Everyone (there were three men and one woman sitting at the table) was very excited that it was my first time. I gave the first man my ID card. I brought my Israeli passport, driver's license, and ID. I was too excited. I really wanted to be prepared. I just needed one of them. The second man found my name on the list. They gave me an envelope and told me to put only one piece of paper into it. 

These are all the slips of paper that were available to choose from.  I picked mine, put it in my envelope and came back to the main table. I said shehechiyanu (a prayer you say when you do a new thing) and the people at the table really liked that. The third man offered to take my picture.

 Obviously, I said yes!  This is me voting!! =) 

It was a really wonderful moment in my life to be able to vote in Israel. I have lived here for almost four years. I am so proud of living in Israel and being part of a Jewish democratic state. It was a very emotional experience for me. 

Now...it actually gets exciting, we'll see who makes a coalition. 

a new struggle i didn't see coming

“An individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.

I know this sounds naive, but I really didn't see this one coming.

Just some clarifications before I start. I love being Jewish. I love not using electricity on Shabbat, I love keeping mitzvot, I love davening, I LOVE Torah. I choose to believe Torah is from Sinai. I like dressing conservatively, although I don’t always wear skirts. I often think about being orthodox and marrying an orthodox man.

I grew up in a place that I didn’t have anyone to raise me Jewish, to answer my questions, or help me become the Jew I wanted to be.  I grew up in a predominantly farming community in Indiana, where there weren’t any other Jews. My dad is Catholic. My Jewish education is also about survival. At this point in my life, I wouldn’t choose to raise my family there, because I want to them grow up more Jewishly observant, but I did grow up there, and there weren’t people who could teach me. But what if someone had taught my mom how to read Torah, lead davening, to have a Jewish home, etc. She is also a woman, (I see the flaw in my argument, that she should have married a Jewish man, but that’s not what happened, and my dad isn’t Jewish, but I am.) Woman today must be educated fully in all aspects of Judaism and must have equal rights in Israel and abroad. I must be prepared to give my children a Jewish education even if my husband can’t do it. (I also see the flaw in this, I find my Judaism to be very important and I will marry a man who can help educate our children. It’s only hypothetical.)

I was brought up to be strong. Maybe too strong. My mom grew up playing sports, usually with boys, because there weren’t other girls to play with. She grew up when not all schools had sports for girls, or where they only let girls play basketball on half the court, because obviously they weren’t strong enough to play full court. She went to university and played volleyball and badminton. When she raised me and my sister, we played all the sports we wanted to. I was younger, and my dad didn’t get a boy, so I also grew up playing football, (not on an actually team, just in our yard) and I was in karate, softball, tennis, golf, basketball, swimming, volleyball, and I did shot put on the track team. By the time I got to high school, I focused just on tennis and golf. I wasn’t just raised to be strong, I was raised to be better, to perfect what I was doing.  When I beat all the girls in the school, I started to play against the boys, and when I beat all the boys, we went to another state to play.

This isn’t really the point, but the issue is equality, and being raised to believe and feel that I am equal at anything I choose to be equal at. And this is my dilemna. As much as I would love to be orthodox, I don’t believe there is real equality. Even though I don’t believe that “separate is equal,” for the sake of prayer and kavannah/concentration, I really prefer not sitting with men. (I will be the first to tell you that I get easily distracted by the opposite sex.) It’s rare that a prayer space is equally divided. Sometimes women are in the back, or squished on the side. When the spaces are more equally distributed, women aren’t allowed to participate, and definitely not allowed full participation rights. There are some unique minyanim in Jerusalem that allow women to lead/participate in parts of the davening.

I truly believe that God thinks I am equal to any man. He/She/It created us. How can one voice be more than another? How can a small biological difference make this large of a difference? This Shabbat, when I was in one of the most beautiful communities in Israel, with a group of people I have the utmost respect for and truly love; only men participate. Only men read Torah, only men can lead shachrit, musaf, mincha, maariv, etc. Because women sit up stairs, they can’t even touch the Torah. Do they think the Torah will become impure if a woman touches it? (I’m not being sarcastic, if this is the reason, I want to know.)

I also study at an institution that employs the most knowledgeable female Talmud/Torah scholars. These women blow my mind. Their love of Judaism, Torah, Talmud, mitzvot, is simply beautiful. They are women who even being in their presence makes me feel like a better person because they are truly following Torah and God’s commandments. But they don’t seem to have the same struggle that I am facing. Do they also not want to read Torah, and lead davening? Do they believe that their voice isn’t equal?? Do they think that a man isn’t fulfilling his mitzvah if he heard her voice instead of another man’s? They teach men Talmud, but they don’t participate in an orthodox service. I don’t know the answer to these questions.

A more concerning issue for me is the kotel. The closest wall that Jews can pray at to the Holy of Holies. It’s a hot political issue in Israel right now. I love the kotel. I get chills when I go there. I love praying there, I think so much Jewish history, worship, prayer, took place there. I am part of this. There is a permanent separation barrier at the wall, woman on the right, and men on the left.  There is even a covered section for the men so they can be even closer to the spot.  Not only do women only have about a fourth of the space at the wall, it’s farther away. Also, women aren’t allowed to have their own minyan. And it’s impossible to be close enough to a man’s minyan to hear a Torah reading. So a women couldn’t fulfill this mitzvah at the wall even if she wanted to, since it was deemed illegal for a woman to touch a Torah scroll, let alone read from one. How can someone think that this is normal? I know this is completely vulgar, I apologize in advance, but how can the difference between a penis and vagina, create such immense divisions? Because men were the people writing the rules? Do orthodox men/women see their children differently? Why do the boys get to do certain things that their daughters aren’t allowed? I don’t have answers and I don’t understand.

I really didn't see this struggle with a desire to keep more mitzvot and live a more observant life would come with such a struggle for equality, trying to find a voice and a place where I feel comfortable. I truly have no desire to insult anyone’s way of life, I only desire to understand, do more mitzvot, and to be closer to God.  B’ezrat Hashem, I will raise my daughters (and sons) in the same way.

Snow day = best day of my life.

We were all awake long before we finally received the email from Pardes to tell us that school was canceled. We all knew, there was a blizzard coming down outside our windows! The city had already shut down the afternoon before because of some hail. We quickly rallied and got a group together to head to the kotel. We were told that we couldn't miss a white kotel. 

We trudged down Derech Hevron all the way to the Old City...actually, it was sunny and we were throwing snow balls at each other! We went to the overview where the following picture was taken. Then we went to the kotel. 

Our brave and AWESOME group! 

My friend, Ilan, so excited to be praying at the kotel in the snow! 

Dome of the Rock...I know many people don't like your location, but you're still gorgeous. 

Two soldiers taking pictures of each other as I walked down to the men's side. Yes, you heard correctly. I asked my friend AdAm, what he thought if I would just walk all the way down on the men's side of the kotel. Obviously it was an exceptional day, and there weren't guards at the kotel at 9am in a blizzard. And most off the men were inside for the Torah reading, since it was too wet to bring the Torah's outside. I asked him if I liked like a girl because I had a hood on and a scarf covering most of my face. He laughed and said yes, but if you keep your head down, no one can see your face anyway.

So I slowly made my way to the men's side. I stopped and watched men dancing, then once I felt that AdAm was close to me. I headed for the wall. My heart was beating fast and my legs started to shake, but then, I was there. My lips and forehead on the wall and...it was amazing. Prayer easier flowed from my mouth, and then I heard a nigun (song without words) start a little down the wall...obviously men were singing, but I felt like God was singing for me, and so happy that I was there at the wall. The nigum was beautiful, and I heard AdAm chime in and I saw my roommate Joseph close on my left from the corner of my eye. I relaxed a little, knowing I was surrounded by my friends. I prayed a little more, took in the nigum, held back some tears, felt the snow falling heavily on my shoulders. I felt the world was perfect in this moment. And so not to overdue it, or take the moment for granted, I lifted my head just enough to see AdAm, and we walked out together. It was by far one of the most amazing moments of my life. 

I am so happy living in Jerusalem, studying Torah, and loving life! 

Cousins!

My cousin, Hannah, came to Jerusalem on a Birthright group! Our grandfathers are twins. Do we look alike?

We just might Saturday night for an hour. We have only seen each other a few times in my whole life, the last time was at my sister's wedding. But I can tell that she is a beautiful young woman who is going to do great things! I love when family is in Israel!

Rain in the holy land

There has been more rain in Israel in the past three days than my entire four years in Israel. I am so grateful for my rain boots. And warm smiles from everyone who is miserable being wet and cold, but understanding that we need the rain.

Women of the Wall Rosh Chodesh Tevet

I recently learned about Women of the Wall and their struggle for equality at the Kotel, the Western Wall, the most significant religious site for Jews. http://womenofthewall.org.il/ Every Rosh Chodesh they go to the Kotel to pray together in a minyan (technically, a group of 10 Jewish men, but for them, 10 Jewish women.) They have been facing a lot of hostility from police/government. The rabbinut, Orthodox rabbis, controls the Kotel and what is allowed to happen there. So this morning, was Friday and we didn't have school, so I wanted to go and show my support...

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10100937694240228&set=vb.20718182&type=2&theater

I came early before the other women entered and filmed a little of the men's side. They get to read Torah, dance, wear tallit and tefillin. All things the women aren't allowed to do at the Kotel yet. 

A woman who refused to take off her tallit (prayer shawl) at the Western Wall was arrested. Clearly she didn't do anything wrong. 

The Kotel at sunrise with rain, really beautiful. 

The men praying on their side, reading Torah peacefully. The Chanukia is there for Hanukkah! 

She is giving us instructions on entering. They will take our tallits, if we don't let them, they will arrest us. I gave them mine, they held it at the gate until I exited much later. When they took it, I told them it was really important to me, I asked the head officer if he used a tallit when he prayed and he said yes. I told him that I wanted to use it to use my tallit to pray. He told me that there is a law in Israel against women using them. And I said, "who's law? HaShem's law?!?! No way." The officer laughed and smiled, but I still didn't get to take my tallit with me. 

The police put an extra barrier so the men who prayed in support couldn't stand too closely to us. This police man was really nice to me and said good morning to me after I said boker tov with a smile. I think he liked me, why wouldn't he? =) 

One thing that was upsetting to me was seeing Orthodox Jewish women come up to us and tell us to be quiet and that what we were doing was horrible. But there were other women who just happened to be there and saw us gave us huge smiles and thumbs up! 

Derek came to support the women at the wall. He prayed on the other side of the barrier next to us! It really made me feel great to see him there. (At school he is Naomi's chevruta in Gemara, what a lucky lady!) 

This girl was arrested for not taking off her tallit. I talked to this guard. His name is Lior, he is SO nice! I asked him when I was leaving if he really cared about praying at the wall. And he said, of course I don't care, I enjoyed it! (He had come into the Kotel to watch us pray too.) I feel bad for the police men, they don't really want to be doing this. 

During Hallel, special prayers we say on extra special days like Rosh Chodesh (the first of the Jewish month) Hanukkah, and other holidays. I really had an urge to dance. Most of the service, I was standing in the back on a bench. I had a good view. But when Hallel started, it was so exciting! It was time to celebrate, and Rosh Chodesh is really a women's holiday. So it's really important to me. Jewish women really should own it. Anyway, I was excited, and I felt like our group of 100 women was a little afraid, as they should have been because four women had already gotten arrested. But I came down off my bench and walked around the front to where Naomi and Mary Brett (two of my great girlfriends from Pardes) were praying. Some other women were swaying, almost dancing. I grabbed Mary Brett's hand and another woman who I didn't know and we formed a circle and away we went. We were dancing at the Kotel! Immediately more women joined! It was so exciting and for a short time I forgot we should have been nervous and just danced for God and out of joy. It's so wonderful to dance with women, it's so strong and carefree. But within a few seconds (less than 30) police game and told us to settle down. We were being too loud and rowdy. But it was too late. We did it, and it was amazing. The chazzan changed tunes and we went back to being quieter. At the end of hallel during Song of the Sea we danced one more time. I was a little more nervous this time. I knew the police would come. When we stopped my legs were shaking, but it was so worth it. The women left the regular Kotel area and went to Robinson's Arch to finish the Torah service. 

I was very happy too because a year ago I wouldn't have been able to daven/pray with them. I didn't know how, and now after being at Pardes, I felt very confident in my abilities and really felt a strong connection to what was going on and I really wanted to be there to pray, to give thanks and praise and rejoice. All things I didn't know how to do in a traditional, productive way not a very long time ago. 

The whole thing was inspiring to me. I'm sure for others it was depressing, but it gave me hope. Everyone knows I like a good fight. I felt like I really belonged in that moment at exactly that time. With exactly those people. Doing exactly what I was doing, and that was a great feeling.