The Jerusalem Wedding

Back in September I had the privilege of attending a wedding in Jerusalem. I jumped at the opportunity, because what's more cultural than a Jewish Wedding in Jerusalem? I arrived promptly at 6, expecting the ceremony to start at 630, as was advertised on the invitation. That was lesson one...this is the middle east and apparently these events just kind of have a life of their own. They'll start when they are good & ready. I found that after a solid 2+ hours of mingling, family pictures, eating tasty catered food (kosher no doubt), meeting more friends & family, the ceremony still hadn't started. This was not like a southern protestant wedding at all.

Eventually, the night unfolded and I was exposed to several Jewish traditions that were, well, quite foreign to me. Here are just a few examples:

1)The signing of the Ketubah (קתובה) before the ceremony. This is a jewish marriage contract. It basically spells out the rights of the bride in the event of a divorce. The Talmud states that purpose of this contract is to make it difficult for a man to divorce his wife. Pictured below are the groom, his father, & the father-of-the-bride.

2)Praying- Following the signing of the Ketubah, there was a lot of praying. This all took place in a room full of men only before the ceremony. This appeared rather impromptu and disorganized, but then again, everybody seemed to know what direction to face & what to say. Kind of like everyone doing their own thing, but all at the same time and in the same place. Then, all of the sudden, dancing/singing/clapping broke out, a band materialized, and everyone paraded up to where the ceremony was to be held. It was crazy--with clapping, jumping and dancing the whole way. This was a weird, fun, energetic, lively, and surprisingly contagious way to start nuptials.

3) Ceremony- Here, things were a bit more like I expected. The bride walked down the isle, blessings were said, ring exchanged (actually, only the bride got one), and the band was much more chill at this point. One interesting thing I saw was that the bride walked around the groom 7 times, showing that this particular couple is more orthodox in their practices. In this ritual the groom symbolizes Jerusalem. Another custom common to Jewish wedding is the crushing of a glass under the groom's heel. This symbolizes the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. So, even in times of joy and celebration, Jews are always looking back to the past while placing hope in the future.

One stark contrast in general between an Israeli event, even a wedding, and it's US counterpart is the overall 'do-your-own-thing' informality of everyone in attendance. So, while all these parts of the ceremony are taking place, some guests are watching while others are chatting, mingling or walking around. I'm not sure if this is normal for every Jewish wedding ceremony, but I know you wouldn't dream of trying something so informal in the American South.

After all was said & done, the newlyweds disappeared while all the guests went to the banquet hall to hang out & wait for their arrival. Wait & wait & wait...until the marriage is officially consummated . Now this part I found hard to believe; and I'm pretty sure that a male thought of this tradition. I thought it was something only found in Yentl. That being said, if I had known of this particular tradition when I was 22, I definitely would have petitioned for that to be part of our nuptials. Oh well...

Finally, the bride & groom appear and dancing begins: WOW.

I knew that there would be festivities afterwards to celebrate the marriage occasion, but I really had no idea what to expect. Needless to say, I was not disappointed. This was a celebration in every sense of the word. At first I felt like a spectator not only because I'm not Jewish, but I'm also the only male there not wearing a head covering, I barely understand what is going on with my beginner Hebrew, and Lord knows that I can't grow a beard. Before I knew it, my friend Nahum, the father-of-the-groom, dances up to me and pushes me in to this swirling vortex of happy dancing Jew men. I've never danced with so many dudes in my life! Good times:)

More than anything else I felt that the guests dancing were truly happy for the young couple, and it fostered a real sense of community right there in the banquet hall. This not uncommon for any good wedding--its a big party. The segregation between the sexes may seem strange or archaic at first, but I came to see this tradition in a more positive light. It gave the chance for all the men to dance together, and basically be free of the pressures that inevitably go with mixed company. It also was a chance for the bride to have some time dancing & chatting with her friends--something that I know Elizabeth would have enjoyed at our wedding.

Pictured below are some wonderful folks that I met there--family of the bride. We hung out, talked, they explained the order of the events, and they graciously suffered my Hebrew all night. Later on that month, they invited our whole family for shabbat dinner (kids & all). Very generous...

All-in-all, it was an wonderful experience, and I met some really great people along the way. For an explanation as to how I was invited in the first place, that is a story for another blog.

I want to extend a personal, special thanks to Nahum & his dear family for the generous invitation, and מזל טוב! to the young bride & groom.

Shalom y'all, Stew

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**CORRECTION**- As it turns out, the bride & groom don't actually consummate the marriage immediately after the ceremony while hundreds of guests wait while eating wine & cheese (as I had previously deduced). They just get to spend a little time together, eat something since the groom has fasted all day, and get a chance to chill before the big party. Yet another classic example of cultural misunderstandings, or what Elizabeth likes to call, me being a big idiot. How was I supposed to know?!?

Happy Belated Turkey Day!

Happy Late Thanksgiving Everyone!

We hope everyone enjoyed their fill of feasting and family dysfunction! Over here in the middle East, we had a delightful American Thanksgiving all our own. It was a bit of a labor of love, but in the end it was absolutely worth it.

See this face of utter bewilderment? This was halfway through the day, just after taking Will to the doctor for an acute ear infection that surfaced around noon. Guests were due at 6 pm.

Wait, let me back up a bit and start at the beginning.

The first dilemma of Thanksgiving abroad is: to have or not to have. We could have skipped it altogether. We could have prepared a simple meal. We could have even eaten out at the one American Restaurant in Tel Aviv hosting their Thanksgiving plate special. However, once the Embassy advertised their "feather free" butterballs for sale at the handsome price of $60 per 10-12 lb. bird, we decided to go for it. We invited three sets of neighbors to join us, and the planning began.

Now, procuring grocery items for a traditional American Thanksgiving in Israel is not the easiest task. Here's a few unavailable items:

• stuffing
• cream of mushroom or chicken soup
• chicken broth
• marshmallows
• salted butter
• fried onions
• apple cider
• pumpkin
• condensed milk or evaporated milk
• cranberries of any variety: canned, fresh, frozen, dried

Thankfully, between our dry goods shipment, care packages from friends and family, and a little online Netgrocer shopping, I had most of these items on hand. Except marshmallows. Which is why our sweet potato casserole was topped with these:

Israeli banana flavored and shaped marshmallows. It was either these or strawberry. Weird, but Stewart insisted on marshmallows, so there you go.

I digress; back to the bird. So, it turns out that a "feather free" turkey isn't necessarily "quill free." Or "neck and innards free." Stewart was my absolute hero and knight in shining armor. He offered to de-quill and clean our little avian friend for me. I think he knew that if I were left to the job, there might not be a turkey come next year. So, he pulled out some pliers and worked on the gobble gobble for over an hour.

Check out those quills! They were all over every inch of that sucker.

One by one.

Gross... but that's how it's done.

The next hurdle was fitting our bird in our oven. Our oven is a little on the small side. Like more similar to a microwave than an oven, really. It only fits up to one 13 x 9 size dish in at a time. Thankfully, by placing the rack on the lowest setting, we were able to just barely fit the turkey inside. Whew!

After all was said and done, the turkey cooked beautifully and turned out to be the most scrumptious one we've prepared yet. Will had a nice long nap, and the antibiotics kicked in, so he was in the clear. Lydia finally dropped her fever the day before (yes, we truly have been chronically ill for the last two months), so she too was good to go.

Out of the neighbors that joined us, only one couple had ever partaken of a thanksgiving meal and even then it was only one time. They were all very curious and excited about the event. They kept saying things like, "We've only seen this in the movies!" & "We've always wanted to see a Thanksgiving meal and try the food." With eager, grateful company, good wine and good food, we had a wonderful meal and evening. We also took time to introduce our traditions of reading scripture, saying grace, and going around and sharing the things for which we are thankful. We learned a lot about each other, and relationships were forged a little deeper. Of course, I said I was thankful for my family and the chance to be living in Israel, but what I really wanted to say was, "I'm so thankful I didn't ruin the food and the turkey isn't full of quills and feathers!"

"Happy Thanks Holiday"

Shalom Y'all!

Don't Mess With the Zohan

Remember that Adam Sandler flick...Don't Mess With the Zohan? You know, the one about the ex-IDF (Israeli military) officer who wants to become a hair dresser? I always thought the Zohan was one of those crazy, random Adam Sandler characters, but it turns out he may have found his inspiration in Israel.

Every salon or beauty shop I have passed on the streets here has an all-male staff.

I'm sure that Israel has female hair stylists. They have to, right? However, I have yet to lay eyes on one. I was even warned by other expats that the IDF-trained male stylists might come off as overly "flirtatious."

But, what do you do when your hair looks like this?

After months of sun, wind, sizzling heat and humidity, my hair was looking....well....rough.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

One day I had had enough. I dropped the kids off at school, walked to the nearest hair salon and in Henglish asked for the next available appointment. I was told to come back that evening at 5 pm.

So, I returned promptly at 5 pm. I said I had an appointment for a haircut (or at least I thought I did), and then the gentleman behind the counter started showing me samples of hair extensions. At this point I realize one of two things has happened. Either I have miscommunicated (highly possible), or I really look so bad and desperate that he is going to try to push the latest product on me. I was hoping it was option A, so I switched to all English.

Me: "Ifshar ledeber be Anglit bevakashah?" (May we speak in English please?)

Zohan: OK

Me: I think I have an appointment for a haircut. Just a haircut.

Zohan: Aaaaah. Ok, it's with me. "Boi."(come with me)

And that is how my first Zohan experience started. I learned that this gentleman studied at the Paul Mitchell Salon in New York years ago, his English was good enough, and he was fantastic at cutting and styling hair. My hair was washed, cut and styled within 20 minutes, and it was one of the best haircuts I have ever received. AND....it wasn't more expensive than an American haircut. Score!

If you're wondering about the flirtatious part, there was no hanky panky or improper innuendos whatsoever. He was a true gentleman. This may have had something to do with my overall appearance upon entering the salon, you never know. You could say that I don't exactly blend in with the Tel Aviv locals in the fashion department. In fact, I more or less stick out like an Amish woman in SoHo. Regardless, he was kind and professional...

....even if he did jam out to GNR's Paradise City while cutting my hair.

Shalom Y'all,

E