Z, D, G and Jenka
When my family and I decided to come to Israel this December, one of the deal makers was the recent passing of my grandmother Lilly and how it might be a nice chance to see her last remaining sister, Jenka, who lives on a kibbutz in Mishmar-ha-Negev. A great opportunity to touch that last remaining link from her generation. Granted I had already met Jenka at my bris but my hope was that this time would afford me a more memorable (and clothed) experience.
As her daughter Jubilee held court and served us a delicious meal of cheeses, vegetables, yogurts, dates and wine I kept peeking at the old woman, to see if I could pick up subtle reminders of our recently passed grandmother. I’m not going to pretend that it was like having my her right in front of me but the similarities were unmistakable. The furrowed brow when questioned, the finger placed diagonally over the lip when she listened, the quizzical requests in that hodgepodge of languages and even the glasses that she carefully placed above her nose when one had her attention. Things that Lilly did she did as well, and while they lived the last 50 years nearly 4,000 miles away from one another, these little quirks were hard-coded. I found that deeply comforting.
Some observations that I’ve picked up on in the 18 hours I’ve been in this country:
- Do not mess with the Shabbos elevator! The hotel we’re staying is playing host to 8 weddings this weekend and I believe we are the only unaffiliated group staying on site. Having never really spent much time in a heavy Jewish community (except for my occasional travels to Long Island and the Upper West Side), I have never seen a Shabbos elevator. As observant Jews celebrate the Shabbos, they cannot use technology so the elevator buttons come pre-pressed letting them get to their floor without having to push anything. I’m not very clear on this as the use of the elevator outright has to be considered use of technology unless they’ve replaced the working motor with gerbils running on a wheel for power. Anyway, it’s akin to taking the 6 when the 4/5 is readily available as there are other elevators that can be used “normally”. After experiencing a pretty substantial fit of sleeplessness/jet lag I thought it would be a good idea around 4:30am to take said shabbos elevator fully expecting no one to be in it. I hop in on the 12th floor and as expected it heads down to 11 opens and closes. I start to giggle with glee (I know I can be a little immature at times but this may be a new high or low…I blame the jet lag). I head down to 10 and the elevator door opens and of course, there is a hotel attendant there cleaning the floor. In my shorts and t-shirt, with a laughing fit to boot, I remove myself from the elevator to the rather apparent consternation of the worker who I’m sure was not too pleased. I have yet to be paid a visit from some angry Rabbi but what is clearer is that there are definitely rules/traditions in this country that don’t exist at home. As I am a guest here, it is for me to respect these rules and not break them.
- There’s a warning in the room that reads: “Please note that it is absolutely forbidden to light a fire in the rooms!” I don’t know if this is meant as a potential warning to smokers, candle lighters or goat sacrificers but the repercussions here seem pretty severe.
