Paul speakish well Hebrew

I thought after the rather heavy tones of my last post, I would put up something a little more easy going.

Having taken six days of language classes, I can now speak, in the present tense, about loving things, wanting things, studying things, speaking languages, drinking things (yet somehow in I still haven't learned how to eat things, which seems like it would be the first thing one would learn in the language of the Jews). Just last night I learned how to read and write things, like letters or books (write letters, read books).

This is a horrendously color balanced photo of my first composition in Hebrew. Here is a rough translation. Apologies to those who feel excluded, or that this misrepresents them. And, should you speak better Hebrew than I (which if you speak any Hebrew you likely do), The grammar has already been corrected several times by several people, I just didn't feel like uploading the photo of the page after the red pen attacked it. Loosely, it follows.

Paul Heckler

I am from New York. But I live in Portland Maine. I live with two women [Sorry Bre and Brax]. I live with Doran and Lauren. Lauren likes coffee. Doran likes chocolate. I like coffee and chocolate. Ian lives near us, he lives with Alice. Ian and Alice like wine. Ian and I have a great time at a restaurant."

We all like Margaritas, some of us like margaritas with salt, some like margaritas with no salt."

Shalom Alecheim I am NOT. but hopefully you enjoyed it!

concentric circles of conflict

This is the Al-Aqsa Mosque (toppish) and the Western Wall (bottomish)

The Al-Aqsa Mosque, along with the Dome of the Rock (or Qubbat, which is not pictured but you know what it looks like) is on what the Jews call the Temple Mount (Har Ha Bayit). It is where Abraham was supposed to have sacrificed Isaac. Later, the Israelites built their Temple on it. That Temple (the Bayit HaMiqdash). The Temple was destroyed, twice, once by the Babylonians in 586 BCE, and (after rebuilding) once by the Romans in 70 CE. 

It is also the place where the Prophet Mohamed is said to have ascended to Heaven (where he received revelation). That's why there are two Muslim shrines there now, the Dome of the Rock is over the rock from which Mohamed ascended. For the record, the Christians also think it's a holy site, for having been the location of the Temple in Jesus' time, the location where is said to have prayed, and the "House of his Father".

According to Jewish tradition, when the Messiah (Moshiac) comes, the Temple will be rebuilt on the Temple Mount. But there is a problem, there are two Mosques in the way! Many Jews don't worry about Moshiac coming anytime soon (there are some exceptions to that). And there is a mainstream Jewish idea that it isn't even such a good idea to rebuild the Temple.

I went as close to the Temple Mount as an American Jew can get today, which is to say the Western Wall (sometimes called the Wailing Wall). The Western Wall supports the platform where the Mosques are (and originally the Temple was). The part of me that never got over my love (as an eight year old) of ancient civilizations was so excited and happy to be there. Some of the stones that make up the wall (which go back about 2000 years) are massive, bigger than I could have imagined. Bigger than most of the bedrooms I've ever inhabited.

My school led (Jewish) prayer services and the students looked in wonder at the Wall.

But I couldn't relate. I was too troubled by a conversation I overheard on the bus on the way to the Wall. A very zealous Zionist in the group spoke in terms that I can only describe as racist about one of the three Holiest sites in Islam. She stopped short of discussing the destruction of the Mosques in order to rebuild the Temple. But the way she described what "they" (the Muslims) did to "us" (the Jews) felt very much like the language used by every segregationist or apartheid regime. Other conversations, including what the tour guides said to us, used similar language as if the conflict between Israel and Palestine did not have equal participation in Hamurabi eye poking from both sides.

And, should this Kvetch fall upon ears that are more committed to Zionism that my own, let me Kvetch equally about the Hamurabi eye poking of the WAQF (the Arab/Muslim trust which administers the Temple Mount through agreement with the Israeli government). I'm not going to get too far into it (because this is already about three times longer than I intended it to be or wanted to ever post on my blog). But the WAQF does not respect the Jewish views of the sacredness of the site, nor the Israeli and or Western Archaeological interests in the site.

True to form for a WebLog, these are all unprocessed thoughts. I have a lot more of them, and will probably post more as I think about it more.

Oh Yeah, and Barack was at the Wailing Wall too, I tried to go back Wednesday night when he was supposed to have been there, but they rescheduled at the last minute out of security concerns. He ended up being there about three hours after I left (following in my footsteps I guess!) I hope he has more polished and processed thoughts than I do about it all.

Motzei Shabbat (at the end of Shabbat)

My first Shabbat in Israel ended about two hours ago. Here are some first impressions of that Shabbat.

Almost everything in Jerusalem shuts down early on friday afternoon. Before that though, everything is at the highest hustle and bustle as people get ready for Shabbat. I bought groceries at the Shuk, which is one of the covered markets. Delicious food, and even though the exchange rate isn't what it used to be (I'm told), the prices were pretty good. I'll post more about the Shuk, with photos at some point.

As it gets closer to sunset, shops close up, and the streets empty out. There's a mass migration of orthodox Jews, going to Synagogue and Shabbat dinner with families. And then the streets are empty again.

A few clubs stay open, a few restaurants too, but as I walked back from my own Shabbat dinner and peered into these clubs and restaurants, for the first time since my arrival in Israel, there is not a yarmulke in sight. Thursday night the clubs are packed full of people who go through all kinds of security to enter and then can't move an inch in any direction once they get in. Friday night, just a few people somberly nursing beers.

Saturday morning it continues, empty roads, a few taxis, and a few cars, but no buses, no hustle and bustle, just a bunch of men in yarmulkes and prayer shawls running late to services. I don't know where the secular part of the population is, maybe sleeping in.

By Saturday evening (but before Shabbat ends) there is more traffic, and more people out and about. There is one last migration of orthodox Jews, families this time, not just the men. Then, as soon as Havdolah (the official end of Shabbat, about an hour after sunset on Saturday) happens, the streets fill up. Vendors open their stores, the Felafel stands open back up, Hasidic Jews come out onto the street to have their first cigarette in 25 hours (There is no lighting of fires on Shabbat, therefor there is no smoking). The smoking Hasids have an interesting look on their faces as they finish that cigarette. I can't quite tell what it is. Maybe relief? Maybe something else, stress about the upcoming week perhaps.

And now, at eleven at night the place is bustling again.

My own Shabbat was quite nice. Services were at the Synagogue that is loosely affiliated with the School I'll be at. The Rabbi had a good presence and the people who led the prayers had beautiful voices. Following the evening services we had a welcome dinner with the School, and I met a few of the people from my program. I didn't really get an impression of anyone as I was very tired and feeling a bit over-stimulated by all the new sights, sounds, smells, of Jerusalem.


Tomorrow will be the first day of my program, and my first Hebrew lesson. I'm in the absolute beginner level. It'll be good.

Pomegranates grow here

I arrived in Jerusalem on Thursday (I promptly had a felafel, it was delicious). I've spent a lot of time walking around since then, and happened upon this pomegranate tree.

The tree was growing in the garden of a house in the neighborhood adjacent to my school. I was lucky enough to stumble upon a walking tour of the neighborhood. That walking tour got me access to the beautiful garden that contained this tree. I had never seen a pomegranate growing before.

More to come after Shabbat ends tomorrow night!

the world's smallest police car

Never in my life have I thought of a police car as "cute," I guess there's always a first...

I hoped more than anything that the police who drove this tiny car would be proportional, but alas they were full sized.

Vienna's architecture is really diverse and beautiful. It runs the gambit of neo-classical to neo-renaissance to bauhaus to contemporary. And the public transportation makes me swoon.

I went to a neat exhibition at one of the the contemporary art museums, the movement as expressed in art, music and fashion. Now, those of you who knew me in college might (but hopefully don't) remember the three months I tried very hard (and failed miserably) to be a punk. I had a crush on someone and I was hoping that being punk would lead to some kind of resolution. It didn't. I just wasn't very convincing as a punk.

Nonetheless, the exhibition was a lot of fun. It was a great many photographs, drawings, installations, record collections, short films, commentary etc. It also drove home just how lousy a punk I was.

so i guess i'm travelling!

Strangely, it didn't even occur to me that I was leaving until my father dropped me off at JFK.

I hopped out of the car and gave him a hug, grabbed my baggage, and went into terminal 1 at JFK. Then it hit me, being at the airport means getting on a plane and going somewhere. It's very strange that although I've been through all of these motions, starting with renewing my passport, followed by moving out of portland, putting all my crap in my mom's attic, and packing 36 kilograms (so luftansa tells me) of clothing, books, electronic equipment and pottery (yes i'm bringing pottery, a gift for Kilian in vienna). When does it hit me that I'm leaving? as i walk into the airport.

well, that's me in a nutshell. going through the motions without realizing what's going on.

I'll post more from Vienna, where, apparently, I'm headed.