Year Course Blog

This past Simchat Torah was hands down the best Simchat Torah I have ever had the privilege of experiencing. Our celebrations started off snorkeling for a rare snail found in the Mediterranean Sea. This snail has been used for thousands of years to produce the blue dye (Tekhelet) that can be found on tzitzit of tallit. Learning about this ancient ritual was festinating enough, but actually having the hands on opportunity to observe these little critters in actions was a once in a life time experience.

After snorkeling we took a bus ride to one of the holiest cities in Israel, Tsfat. As soon as we arrived at the hostel the Hardie Jews who live in the city greeted us with open arms. They announced to us that we were about to have the time of our lives and to begin the celebrations; first, however, we needed to go up to our rooms and change into modest clothing. We did as we were told then came dressed, the girls in long skits and blouses, and the boys in shirts and trousers, ready to begin the evening service. Following the completion of the service, Manachim – the Shevet cordinator – enthusiastically described to us his own interpretation of Simchat Torah. Listening to Manachim is always a pleasure, and this evening was no exception.

After the service, we began to party… ‘Hardie style’. We first had Kiddush, to bring in Simchat Torah, consisting of berekkas, hummus, baba ghanoush, carrot salad, crackers, and wine… lots and lots of wine. We began to sing along with one rather enthusiastic man who past out beer to everyone and provided us with a great deal of entertainment. I later found out that he was the Rabbi of the Chabad in Tsfat! After Kiddush we continued the celebrations by heading downstairs to a room where the men and women had to split up. We all started dancing our little heads off and singing at the top of our lungs. We sang and danced for a good hour and a half until I had to take a break and step out for some fresh air. As I did Jason, my Madrich (leader) informed me that it was time to have dinner with my host family. A group of three friends and I met Lori, our host mother, who lead us to her house for the seder.

During the long and rather cold walk to her house, Lori pointed out all the main attractions of the town. The town is set up almost like the old city in Jerusalem, in the sense that all the same ancient stones were used to build the foundation of the city. On our arrival three adorable dogs greeted us. The family was generous and showed great interest in our year course program. The delicious food and the homely atmosphere brought me great comfort and joy.

The next day we took an official tour of the city, and joined city dwellers in there dancing celebrations in the streets. We then returned to the hostel only to continue to dance, sing, nosh on Hummus and crackers, and drink lots of alcohol, all the usual and appropriate Simchat Torah traditions.  After dancing around for a few hours we rested and began services, finishing the reading of the Torah and starting it all again. The service was short and following its conclusion many of us were able to tour different shuls within Tsfat. I left Tsfat with a full stomach and a satisfied mind. No doubt about it, best Simchat Torah ever!

–Ari Lazarow

I was a beach bum for the whole sukkot weekend. After being too lazy to bike around the kineret, I wondered around Tiberias with Simon Fink (another section oner).  Later that day we went to Haifa and spent the night on the beach with Dave Sher and Daniel Gore. The three boys went home on Friday and I met up with my roommates Shira Ness, Carly Karten, and Carrie Dienstman. We went to the Bahai temple. It was beautiful. From the top, I could see all of Haifa. We spent the night on the beach, freezing our butts off, under the stars.

–Gabriela Benjamin

Over the sukkot weekend, I went to Ranana to visit family friends that made aliya about a year ago. Being with them was like being with family. The father was actually in my hometown of Caracas, Venezuela while I was stayong with his three daughters and wife. I was so excited to work on the sukka and spend the night in it under the stars. Unfortunately… we were rained out. Luckily, it had dried enough the next day to enjoy breakfast within its three walls.

–Shira Ness

For the first days of sukkot, I ate with my cousins who actually live just down the street from Beit Ar-El. They had a huge sukka party with all of cousins and friends. Over the weekend, I went to Haifa with friends and spent our days lounging in the sun on the soft sand of the beach. We saw the Bahai Gardens, which were beautiful. I had never seen gardens that were set up according to a religion. The ways that the rivers flowed and the placement of each crafted plant, feng shuied their way all the way to the temple mount. After that, we headed down to the beach. It was already about six at night and freezing so we couldn’t go into the water but just laying out on the beach and looking up at the clear skies, which was a welcomed change from that of Jerusalem, was enough for me.

–Sarah Appel

I spent sukkot in a small town near Be’er Sheva visiting a friend that made aliya about four years ago. I took a bus down with Francesca Caulder Wednesday morning from the central bus station in Jerusalem. The trip could not have been better. Even the scenery during the half hour bus ride took our breaths away. When we got there, her mom picked us up a couple blocks away from the bus stop. Communications had gotten a bit crossed. We were on the wrong side of the street and about a half a block away from where she thought we would be. After a couple minutes of waiting we heard a loud but happy scream and we looked up to see her half out of the window, frantically waving her arms in the air and smiling. This was the tone of our whole weekend.

We had known our friend Rachel Brecher when she lived in America, before she had become Shomer Nagia and before her entire personality had become steeped in the Yemenite culture of her family–of which there were many and who seemed to become more numerous as the weekend progressed.

First, we drove to Rachel’s house to pick her up. We then continued to her savta’s house. When we got there, she proceeded to unpack a bag of clothes and toiletries. She looked up at us and asked where our bags were. We said that they were, of course, at her house. It had not occurred to us that we would not be leaving her savta’s house for the chag and it had not occurred to her to tell us. We quickly got over the lack of toothpaste or a change of clothes. We were with one of our best friends and were about to spend an amazing weekend in a place we had never been, experiencing a culture we had never known.

The weekend quickly turned into a procession of food, praying, napping, and walking. The best way to describe her stereotypical Yemenite, Israeli family is to tell of her savta, who did not speak a word of English and could not understand the little Hebrew we could speak because of our accents or lack there of. She came out on the second night just after we had finished eating dinner with a plate of shnitzel. She walked up to us and, in Hebrew, offered it to us. We were full by then and said that we didn’t want any but that was not an acceptable response. “Lama?” (Why?) she asked, astounded in a thick Hebrew accent. We said that we were fine and that we had already eaten. She persisted, saying that she couldn’t see our bellies and so we should eat it. She did not let up, even when Rachel stepped in, until we took some. Satisfied at that, she put the plate of chicken down and sat in silence at the head of the table for the rest of the night.

–Ari Kirsh

For Sukkot I went to the local orthadox synagogue, Yedidya. It was a really nice service and it was actually the first time I had been there. I was surprised to see a very modern building that looked quite new. The hazan had a beautiful voice and the shul was filled with ruach (spirit). I was delighted when a friend of mine from my section showed up that I had not expected to see. Having gone to the service alone, it was nice to see a familiar face. It was first time at an orthadox sukkot service and it made me happy to see the enthusiasm from all of the congregants, both male and female, both old and young.

For many people, the thought of spending a year away from home, away from friends and family and without the chance to see most of them for months, would be a daunting prospect. For many, the idea of participating in a programme knowing not a soul would be cause for nervousness. For many, the prospect of living with Americans would be impossible to stomach. I am one of these many people. In the beginning of September, I left Heathrow airport along with 5 others Brits I did not know, to begin my Year Course journey.

While I was initially frightened by my lack of friends, who, due to the fee rise, had all decided to go straight to university rather than take gap years, it was not long before I fell in love with my new life. The FZY group includes 4 English kids, two Scottish girls, a French girl, a Belgian girl, a Swiss girl and two Israelis, and after the three day orientation in Tel Aviv we quickly bonded as a close group. Being such a small collection has both its perks and its disadvantages. It was much easier getting to know everyone in a group of eleven than of a hundred, but on the other hand it was harder to get a weight allowance increase on the flights. These are troubles we all just have to deal with.

Meeting, living with and befriending the Americans (seventy of whom live with me on the Year Course campus in Jerusalem) has been an opportunity of which I consider myself extremely lucky to be able to take advantage. While they may call trousers ‘pants’ and their inability to understand football is, shockingly, played with the feet and not the hands in some wimpy version of rugby, the Americans on section one, and those I’ve met on the other sections, are amazing people. They are fun, outgoing, and passionate about Israel. Most surprisingly, the majority are not stereotypically unintelligent, and every class, lecture and trip involves eloquent and well-defended points of view.

Speaking of classes, lectures and trips, on Year Course we engage in the most fascinating programmes. On the Manhigut (leadership) track we listen to speakers from all walks of life and we have a real opportunity to have a positive effect on Israeli society. Ulpan (Ivrit) classes four times a week contrast Israel advocacy classes, Jewish concepts courses and weekly outings around the Jerusalem area, in which we examine the three monotheistic religions in the city.

Yet more than the set activities, it is the spontaneous and unique events that make Year Course. Living five bus stops away from the Gilad Shalit tent enabled us to pop over to the celebrations on the day the deal confirming his release was announced, and the cameras were so taken by this large influx of screaming teenagers in Year Course shirts many of us, including myself, ended up in pictures in every Israeli newspaper. I spent my Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur with a friend in Yeshivat Netiv Aryeh, right by the Kotel, a once in a lifetime opportunity to witness what the High Holydays mean to people in the holiest city in Judaism. On top of these, Year Course is a chance to become a mature, independent and responsible adult. I’m learning to cook, to clean, to do laundry, and to sleep through the cacophonous snoring of my room mates.

I have only been in Israel for six weeks, but I could easily fill ten sides with stories of what we have done. I feel incredibly privileged to spend nine months in a country I love, with people I will remain friends with forever and in a setting and on a programme few people would find elsewhere in the world. If I, in my adolescent wisdom, could give one piece of advice to any teenager, it would be to take a gap year. If I could give one piece of advice to any British Jewish teenager, it would be to spend a year in Israel.

“Is this your first religious wedding?” asked the woman standing next to us. She was dressed head to toe in beautiful black lace, and her head was covered by a glossy brunette wig. She looked about 30 and had a kind, motherly face. I smiled coyly to my friends, feeling equal parts relief and anxiety that someone had found us out. We thought our ankle-length skirts and modest shirts disguised our secularity, but alas our obvious bewilderment and wonder at the activity around us betrayed our true identities.

“Yes, actually,” my friend Molly replied tentatively. The woman smiled kindly at us, sizing us up.

“Do you know the bride or the groom?” she asked us. We giggled nervously to ourselves until Molly finally answered. “We’re actually from a gap-year program. One of the services the program provides is optional religious exploration. We can be matched with a host family for Shabbat or attend a religious wedding, just to get the experience. So we all got invited to this wedding, even though we don’t know the couple.”

“That’s great!” the woman replied, “You should know, they’re an awesome couple. And they’re Americans who only became religious later in life.” For the rest of the chuppa ceremony, she explained to us the process and translated some of the Hebrew. We nodded along excitedly, observing a beautiful moment between two people who were total strangers to us. “Tonight, they’ll get to touch for the first time since they’ve met each other,” the woman explained to us. “It will be worth it a million times over.”

After the ceremony ended, a lot of our other friends started trickling in, just in time for an awesome celebration. We described to them the ceremony and our anxieties about being out of place. Now that there were about 15 of us, we were much less inconspicuous than before – but there is a power in numbers.

After some schmoozing with the other wedding guests and lots of stuffing our faces (Year Coursers are known to take advantage of free food and drink), it was time to party. Separated by a mechitza, the women and the men each grabbed hands to form circles around the bride and groom. We danced around them, limbs yanked in every direction by our friends. There was an indescribable joy felt by all – the joy of being a part of a simcha, but more than that. It was the joy of being a part of a community we didn’t even know we belonged to.

After what seemed like hours of dancing, there was a break in the action and it seemed like an appropriate time to start heading out. A few of us went to go meet the bride and thank her for having us to her wedding. We approached her and she really was glowing, ethereal almost. She greeted us with open arms, asking us who we were. We explained Year Course to her, and she nodded cheerfully, happy to include us in the most important day of her life.

“Girls, let me give you a blessing,” she told us. We looked at one another, unsure of what to ask for, unsure of the appropriate response. She sensed our hesitation. “Well, here’s what I want for you. I want you girls to be happy and healthy. May you meet the man of your dreams, maybe even in Jerusalem. Let all good things come to you; don’t force anything. If Hashem wills it, may you get everything you wish for. And of course, shana tova!” And after that, I wondered how I ever felt out of place at all.

Michael Einhorn blogs on running the full marathon to raise money for the Ethiopian Bar/Bat Mitzvah Fund

After waking up at 04.30 in the morning, throwing bananas in my face to get some energy and a 1.5 hour bus ride and a half hour warm-up, this guy from Stockholm Sweden was ready for his first Jerusalem marathon.

It really hit me at 06.59.30, “I’m going to run 42 kilometres and have only trained for one month”. 07.00.00 the race started and I kept a good pace, maybe a little too high. After 10 kilometres when I was inside the gates of the old city, it felt really good. I felt I could do this easily.

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This blog has been written by Ilana Grossmark about her volunteering semester in Bat Yam…

I am currently volunteering in Bat Yam as a first aid responder with MDA.  Prior to my placement I was informed of the busy, long and early days that it would entail.  But nothing could have prepared me for the day I had today.

As I heard the familiar call from the speakers at the station for my designated ambulance, I hopped on together with the three senior medics, and we headed to our destination.  As with all our calls we sung along to Galgalatz radio station which drowned out the noise of the siren.

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