In the end...

י״ז אדר, תשס״ו

Not that anyone here provided any suggestions, but I managed to come up with a reasonably clever Purim costume (if I do say so myself). I was the soothsayer from Julius Caesar, sort of. I wore a bedsheet toga, a wreath of fake leaves & flowers on my head, and carried a sign that said, "Beware the Ides of Adar."

Huh?

Well, I was looking at the calendar a couple of nights earlier, and realized that the 15th of March fell this year on the 15th of Adar, just when I happen to be living in Jerusalem where Purim is celebrated on the 15th rather than the 14th. And so, with a little assistance from Aviel in the research of ancient Roman garb, I entered the spirit of "v'nahafoch hu" [Literally, "and he/it was changed/switched/flipped; the concept that on Purim, both in the original story and hence at this time every year, things are turned on their heads. Irony and poetic justice reign.]

The funniest costume idea I've heard of recently, though, is from a commenter to the Renegade Rebbetzin: "One year I made a crown, and had a picture of a turkey in one hand (I couldn't find a rubber/toy turkey) with a Koosh ball in the other: ha-molech mei-Hodu v'ad Kush..."

Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!! I wish I'd read that before Purim!

Request for Ideas

י״ב אדר, תשס״ו

OK, so Purim is in a very few days, and for the first time in many years I am in a place where everyone I'm with will be dressing up, and I will be expected to do the same...and I don't have a clue what to be. Ideas, preferably clever and easily implementable ones, would be extremely welcome!

Helpful, Aren't They?

י׳ אדר, תשס״ו

Yesterday I was the recipient of a couple of comments that were bizarre enough on their own, but together had me a bit bewildered.

I was in the supermarket on the way home to pick up a couple of things that I needed. Once inside I realized it was foolish of me to have had the cab drop me by the big store just to get onions and chumus, when the smaller store was still open and closer to my apartment. Especially since it generally takes about 15 minutes to get through checkout at the big stores. Between the absence of baggers in this country and huge amount of food people seem to always be buying (I'm serious -- it's uncanny, and it's not only on Thursday nights!), there is no such thing as a short line, even if there's only two people ahead of you.

Anyway, I looked for an express line, but since there didn't seem to be one, I hedged my bets on one that had more people who each had somewhat fewer items, and settled down to wait. A passing store employee, seeing me standing there with my onions and chumus, said, "This isn't an express line."

Prepared to be pleasantly surprised, I asked, "Is there an express line?"

"No." And she continued on her way.

The guy ahead of me seemed as baffled as I was, looked around, and moved to another line that must have seemed to him likely to move faster. I stayed where I was.

Later on in the evening, I attended a recreational event organized for young-ish (25-42) religious singles and marrieds (but mostly singles), both English- and Hebrew-speakers. The group rented out a bowling alley for a couple of hours for open play on the lanes and on the pool tables at the back, and served some refreshments. Having had an urge to go bowling only a few weeks back, I decided I was going to go this time, even if no one would come with me (which no one did).

I had fun. We were assigned to lanes when we signed in & paid, and I was with three Israeli guys...all of whom I beat in the first game. The second game, I was with the same three plus one woman who joined us...and I beat them all again. I must admit I did play fairly well, according to my own standard, but I had to keep reminding myself that I grew up with the game, taking tips from my parents and from my bowling-league grandfather, whereas these Israelis had played 0-3 times each.

In any case, I also had a nice time chatting with them, even though we were just making small-talk. They were nice enough, it forced me to speak in Hebrew (which I love, but don't do enough), and I supposed there was always the option of one of them deciding I was worth getting to know...

The lanes shut down on our games at exactly 11pm, after which we hung around for a bit watching the end of some pool games. At the point when I decided it would be awkward to stay any longer, I went up to two of the men I had bowled with (who were from the same area and had come together) and said it had been nice to meet them, etc, etc. They responded in kind, and then one said (and I translate/paraphrase here), "I think you should find a chatan and stay here in Israel."

Somewhat taken aback, I hesitated a moment, then put on a quizzical face and replied, "Er...thanks for the the advice." After a pause, I added, "Do you have any suggestions?"

If he was trying to flirt, I figure I gave him the perfect opening to ask me out. But apparently he either wasn't trying to flirt, or he was too shy to follow up on it, because his response was to glance at his buddy and say, "No...all our friends are married."

Now, how exactly is a woman supposed to take that, from a single guy who presumably was attending a social event to meet women??

And furthermore, what is it about these Israelis who seem to want very much to be helpful, but can't quite manage it?!

Shabbat shalom, all...

Eilat

ח׳ אדר, תשס״ו

My trip to Eilat, a little over a week ago, was a very welcome change of pace & change of scenery. Even when you love where you are and what you're doing, it's good to have some variety, and even with the winter as mild as it's been, an end-of-winter excursion to the warm and sunny mountains, desert & beaches of Eilat was glorious. We hiked for about six hours in Nachal Gishron, a rift between mountain ranges that runs through Egypt, Israel & Jordan. The views were awesome -- and I mean that in the original sense of the word. They inspired awe. To think that Hashem created these vast, stunning landscapes, these brilliant colors...and to think that this land is ours! The next day we relaxed a bit on a rocky beach, dipping our legs in the crystal-clear waters of the Gulf of Aqaba, then rode jeeps through the desert. Shabbat wasn't particularly special in our little hostel in the middle of the secular town (although the yeshiva boys dancing outside shul after davening on Friday night belied this state of affairs), but we created our own ruach and enjoyed each other's company. Besides, it was well worth it for the two previous days.

Here are a couple of previews to encourage you to click here to see all the photos I can share (that is, all the ones I took that don't have people in them):

Doubts, Doubts, Go Away

ב' אדר, תשס״ו

My t'fila teacher started class on Monday evening with the pasuk we've been singing all week:

"משנכנס אדר מרבים בשמחה"
Roughly translated: From the entrance of [the month of] Adar, we increase happiness

Basically, it's a mitzva to be happy this month (even more than usually...we'll leave that other pasuk alone for now). And happiness, she tells us, is the unraveling, the nullification, the alleviation of doubt. She's right. I have no problem being happy until it's corrupted by either loneliness or doubt. Thanks, I say, for pointing that out. But HOW to get rid of it???

She hasn't answered me yet...