Emigration

So I'm not sure if I've blogged about this before but since I have less than one week left in the country it seems like a fitting time to discuss why I'm a Zionist.

Ultimately it boils down two 2 reasons. The ideological and the practical. Lets start with the latter.

Practical reasons to make aliya.

Being an orthodox Jewess, a lot of the time it's simply more convenient for me to live in a Jewish state. Being able to eat in kosher restaurants really improves my quality of life. Being able to go to the super market without a kosher list is delightful. Having chaggim and erev chag off as public holidays is really necessary. Having many opportunities for left-wing learning and prayer and communal experiences is vital. Not having to constantly explain myself is lovely. I'm really grateful for the experience I had as an ethnic minority in Australia. It's given me a sensitivity to the needs of minorities everywhere. But do I actually enjoy being 'different'? Not very much at all. More than that the type of work I would like to do with my life is really only doable in Israel. I'd like to be a family lawyer in the rabbinic courts. That career is not an option for me anywhere else in the world. So yeah, practically, Israel is suited to my lifestyle and what I want to do with my life.

Furthermore ideologically I feel compelled to move to Israel. Not because of God or religion or national destiny. Far from it. Rather I see how many problems there are in the country. The poverty, the discrimination, the hatred and the unfairness. Coming from a western country with the sensitivity of having been an ethnic minority and part of the periphery of a society (being orthodox and female) I can see how much better things can work. How multiculturalism really adds to a country and how migrants and refugees, when given the right opportunities, can contribute to their adopted home. I can see how an education system should run. How social security could be improved. True, I won't be working on all these areas. I'm pretty sure that women's rights will be my chosen field. But simply being here, voting here, volunteering here should help a little. Or hopefully a lot.

So that's what I'm going to try and do. Help myself and help the middle east.

We'll see how that goes...

Mikveh

Today was a beautiful day in Zion.

I woke up late (10 am, a full 3.5 hours later than my normal Sunday morning wake up). The sky was clear and the sun was shining. We made french toast with leftover challah then went to the shuk for coffee. After that it was off to a mikva round table at the shatil offices. The meeting involved various organisations working with mikvaot around Israel. Specifically; dealing with the mikva workers rights and consumers rights.

I learnt many interesting things at this meeting. For example that women who work in these mikvaot (balanit - single, balaniot - plural) have no training and get paid minimum wage. They have no days off because mikvaot need to be open every day of the year (except for tisha b'av and yom kippur) and because they only work at night even if they work 5 hours every day of the week they are defined as part time workers and don't get full pension and healthcare benefits. The majority of the women are sephardi, come from very low socio-economic backgrounds, have low levels of education, have many children and are generally the sole providers for their large families. They provide for their households via this work. Furthermore these women are not unionised and do not have a representative on the council's religious matters board. Indeed when they sought help from rabbis for their working conditions they were told to leave the issue be because their reward will be in the world to come.

We also discussed religious coercion in the mikvaot. All Jewish women getting married in Israel have to visit the mikva before they are permitted to marry in this country. This means that no matter if you have blue hair, a million piercing and tattoos, eat bacon and eggs for breakfast and have already 3 children outside of marriage, if you want to get married in Israel you have to go the mikva. This is problematic enough. But there are lots of different ways to go to the mikva. There are different laws and practices regarding the preparation process. What if you would like to keep one practice but the balanit would prefer if you observed another? What if you'd prefer that she doesn't cut your nails for you? Or insist that you shave your legs? Or file away the callouses on your feet? Perhaps you'd prefer her to not watch you while you are naked at all? These are all legitimate concerns affecting many brides in Israel. How can we maintain their right to autonomy within this system where religion and state are still not separated? For one woman's experience see this.

Ultimately it was a really fascinating meeting with many of the movers and shakers of the feminist religious world (ie: Chaviva Ner-David). Yay!

After that, I was off to teach a class for a gap year program here, then to a shiur and then a reunion with my friends from sem. JOY!

Other than that the rest of this week will be spent at the Shalem Conference. Yes, you fellow pretentious pseudo-intellectual yidden, you may commence dying of jealousy now. Limmud-Oz eat my dirt.

With that, shavua tov, Little Miss.B

Mental Illness

I clearly must have some sort of mental illness that affects religious girls of my age. The sickness of my soul is as follows almost every night this week I dreamed about a wedding.

1) I dreamed that it was the day before my wedding and nothing was organised. I didn’t have a dress or a venue or caterers or photographers and nobody was invited yet. Then the groom rocked up with his mother. Only then did I discover that I was marrying a Thailandi migrant worker. His very old and wrinkled mother was very happy that he was marrying a white girl. I however was very confused how any of this came to be.

2) I dreamed that my friend and I had to pretend to be married to allow him to stay in the country. In order to fool the authorities we decided that throwing a sheva brachot party is the way to convince them that we are a real married couple. However the only couple we could find to throw a party for were Druze. This presented its own problems since the Druze women wouldn’t sit at the same table as the men. Just as we were trying to settle this, the authorities came and we had to pretend that the party was going really well while all around us the Druzim were fighting and yelling at eachtoher. Very strange indeed.

3) I dreamed that I was at an Ethiopian wedding and I was trying to get a tremp (lift) back to Jerusalem. But I don’t peak Amharic so it was impossible to communicate with the guests. There were also many many guests and being quite little, I was feeling very crushed by the masses.

4) I dreamed that I was marrying a boy from my home town. There were once again lots of logistical problems with the wedding – the venue didn’t have any tables or chairs and the chupa was too short for us to stand under. So I met up with him to discuss these problems but then Igot really upset that this was going to ruin my bedeken.

What we see from these dreams is that I clearly have anxiety about marriage/weddings since none of these dreams were positive or happy. They were all stressfull and overwhelming. I think this makes sense since many of my friends are married or are getting married and sometimes I suppose I feel super overwhelmed by this, hence the dreams. Thanks Freud. Oh and I have penis envy and mother issues.

In other news the yomim noraim zionim were wonderful – I went to a tekes at kikar rabin – there were like 10,000 people there, it felt like I was there with the entire nation. The next day I went to Har Herzl. The night of yom haatzmaut was spent dancing rikudei am in kikar safra and watching the many concerts around the centre of town. In traditional style the day was spend at a barbeque in gan sacher. It was different however because ours was vegetarian.

All in all it was a beautiful Zionist experience. Golda would have been proud.

The Parentals

Miss me?

So my parents arrived the Thursday before Pesach. I met them at 7am at Ben Gurion airport. Yes, 7am. It hurt. A lot.

We then picked up the hire car (which at no point was I permitted to drive) and went to the namal of Tel Aviv for a quiet port side breakfast. After that we popped into Yafo for the flea market, we then drove through Florentine and did some more window shopping in Neve Tzedek.

Following these escapades we drove north to Kibbutz Shefayim where we were staying that night. We went out for dinner with a friend of my parents in Herzliya. My parents went dancing that night and I reveled in the joys of Israeli TV. I can say, that having lived 9 months in Israel without a TV that I really haven't been missing out.

Friday included a brief shop in the Herzliya mall before driving further north to Zichron Yaakov. Conveniently, since it was Friday afternoon we did not see the first aliya museum, or the aaronson museum or visit any wineries. Which meant there was nothing to do in Zichron. The place however was otherwise adorable. The buildings are old, the restaurants have very nice food and the shops are all artsy and craftsy. We spent shabbat in a very small hotel there and on motzash my parents went dancing again and I returned to my beloved TV (this time to bask in the glories of Gilmore Girls).

Sunday we drove down the number 6 tollway (= best road in the middle east), I once again was not permitted to drive to Jerusalem. I then sent my parents to the Israel museum so I could spend over 4 hours cleaning the kitchen for Pesach. Fun times.

That night I took my parents to the best Italian restaurant in Israel - Topolino. We got stuffed artichoke hearts, stuffed sardines, Lasagna, beetroot gnocchi and chestnut gnocchi. H.E.A.V.E.N.

Seder was hilarious. It was my parents, myself and two of my Australian friends PLUS my dearest darling German Lutheran Pastor. He asked really good questions and even answered some of ours. But it was a bit awkies when we were asking the lord almighty to pour out his wrath to the nations of the world (ie: our enemies).

Post-chag we went back to Yafo to eat at Dr.Shakshuka and to window shop at HaTachana - the gentrified old train station between Yafo and Neve Tzedek. Highly recommended.

The next day was at the dead sea.

Back again to Tel Aviv for the Nachalat Binyamin street craft markets.

Shabbat and more Chol HaMoed in Jlem. Last day of Pesach I took my folks to the old city (which used to be my old stomping ground). In addition to the usual places, I showed my parents around the Holy Sepulchre just in time for Easter. It's a really beautiful church, more than a bit unfortunate that I don't really understand all the artwork n the like within it.

The next day my parents were leaving so we did some last minute shopping, I took them out for kubeh and french ice cream (mmmm basil ice cream) then off to the airport for their week in an airplane to arrive in Australia.

Things that I learnt while my parents were in Zion include the following;

- Jerusalem is nuts, everybody here is slightly mad/disturbed.

- There is such a thing as caramel spread, it's like chocolate spread but better

- One day I will have a degree and a job and will no longer be poor (but until then - thanks parents!)

- Cars are amazing, seriously superior to all other forms of transport. Other than unicorn. OBVZ.

Thus ends a summary of my parents visitation to Jewland.

Stay turned for a post on the following topics; my tiyul in Ein Karem (warning: contains nudity), my trip to a friend's tekes kumta, my sailing and sabbatical adventures.

Apart from that on Sunday I return to university. Sob.