Rachie's Adventures in Cape Town

Thanks South Africa!

2008-06-15T14:41:00.001-07:00

Today I am officially leaving South Africa. It does not feel as strange as I thought it would. Perhaps this reality has not fully hit me yet, but I honestly feel as though I am ready to go home. I do not mean ready in the sense that I have been waiting around to leave and I am finally getting the chance, I do not mean the kind of ready that a person forces upon themselves so that they can retain a shred of sanity in transitioning from one environment and set of circumstances to completely different ones. I think that this feeling is one produced from a healthy balance of acquiring knowledge and wanting to apply that knowledge in the life that follows the experience in which it was all attained.

I have been living in one of the most stunning cities in the world for the past five months. Yes I have enjoyed the traveling and the constant presence of mountains that dramatize and beautify every scene, but I think this experience has been defined by so much more than seeing a new place and acclimating to a new culture. My life in Cape Town has been an opportunity to confront issues that exist in my own life and in the world at large. I have read about this country, its traumatic history, its rich and ever-changing culture, its countless populations and the relationships between them that continue to foster an uneven hierarchy that was expected to be destroyed fourteen years ago, so that I could sincerely begin to understand the failures of this place and the simultaneous potential it has to be a beacon of reconciliation. I have immersed myself in the Cape Town Jewish community which has shed light upon the value of participating in a community for the sake of its survival, the difficulties and restrictions attached to being a Jewish woman and the true beauty of being a nomadic Jew who has the potential to find a home anywhere in the world. I have committed myself to my UCT experience that has provided me with a multi-dimensional academic understanding of my surroundings. I have continued conversations with so many different people and situations in my ‘normal life’ that have undergone significant changes and will allow me to merge my life in Cape Town with that which has happened in Elkins Park, PA and at Brandeis. This experience is so much more than a trip, a vacation, a break. Rather it has been an opportunity to learn about myself, about the world, and how I might possibly start going about fusing these two things together so that I can start to make a significant contribution to the world.

In an attempt to try to wrap this experience up with a nice red bow, though this seems like quite an impossible task, I would like to share a few specific lessons that I will definitely leave here with:

Though I feel as though I was aware of this before, I have learned to become extremely thankful for the amazing people in my life and those who continue to enter my life. To be surrounded by different people in different environments who expose me to new viewpoints and experiences and who challenge me, is something that I do not and hopefully will not ever take for granted. I am a product of my surroundings and thankfully I have so often been surrounded by people who, as a result of our relationships and interactions, never allow me to remain stagnant in who I am and in what I believe and who have supported me in the decisions I have made in attempting to explore these aspects of my being.

I have learned that in order to have a well-informed opinion about something it is necessary to not only understand the viewpoint with which you are aligning yourself, but that you must be acquainted with the ideas that you are opposing as well. There are 749 sides to every story, to every experience. It is not enough to acknowledge one opinion when the context of it is dependent upon so many others. It is easy to feel the freedom to have something to say about everything in the world, but the majority of us the majority of the time have so much more to learn about these topics. Yet we are so often content with the knowledge base we already possess, with the ideas we have heard third-hand and the brief headlines we read from one biased newspaper once or twice a week. Knowledge and explanation are endless. There is so much to learn in the world, we will never know everything and I have learned that I need to admit the limitations of my own ideas and beliefs and understand their lack of relevance to other people who have come from different backgrounds and circumstances. Admitting limits seems to reveal a strength in my opinion rather than a weakness, it demonstrates our capacity to allow each person to be entitled to their own experience without taking ownership over it ourselves.

I have learned that a much as I want to save the world and make a large impact, I am confined by a different set of restrictions that surround who I am and who I am not. Perhaps I may try to do so someday, but as a twenty year old, upper-middle class, white, American, college student, I have very little to offer little kids in impoverished Cape Townian townships, I have little to offer to people who look at me as someone who has monopolized resources that they have no access to. I can learn about different situations, I can empathize with various populations, but I have no voice in a community I am not a part of, I have no right to discuss problems and solutions that affect people who live in completely different circumstances. My identity is inherently tied up with a colonial past that has directly oppressed the people of South Africa. No I have not participated in this process, this dehumanization, but I reap the benefits offered by the people who did. At the same time, though if I am willing to put forth the effort, perhaps I can build the capacity to make a difference in small doses and in communities that are not only my own but ones that I commit myself to for a long period of time admitting that I can never determine the fate of someone whose circumstances I do not understand.

On a more practical level, I have learned a great deal about a country and a continent that is often ignored and simplified as the heart of darkness. I do not remember what I though of South Africa and Africa in general before I arrived, but I now know that this country and is an intensely complex conglomeration of malleable social structures that continues to grow and that, if set on the right track, has the potential to be a true light unto other nations in which so many different people, lifestyles, cultures and beliefs may one day all live side by side in harmony. I have learned that while Africa is often clumped into one entire continent by the Western world, each country within it fosters different circumstances and identities that must be seen independently from each other (and yes I admit that I can really only say I know a little about south Africa and a smidge about a few other countries nearby). This understanding is seems to me to be strongly influenced by the line between civilized and barbarian that is often very clear cut in the Western world. Yet this polarized understanding is not only incorrect in its elitist assessment of a twisted world order, it is extremely detrimental to the people who reside in each society. Westerners often elevate themselves and dismiss all Africans as static, traditional and wild which justifies colonization and infusing their civilization within societies that have rich cultures, rituals and beliefs that are in turn compromised and sometimes destroyed completely. This is a colossal problem, for once more, the world is not as set and as black and white as we are taught. It is complicated, it is layered, thus we need to recognize these different layers and not perceive them through the lenses of other social systems. Therefore I think that the solution reverts back to the acquisition of knowledge and the need to obliterate the prism that has polarized the world and the discourse surrounding all its problems into the two categories of good and evil.

Something else that I have discovered for myself is that I need to be in a place, a land, among a people that I sincerely care for and whose value system I am both in agreement with and can be inspired by. South Africa is in need of immense repair, it is sodden with problems and leadership who often fail to acknowledge them, but it is a country that understands its need to rebuild, it is a country that acknowledges its incompleteness and continues to strive for the democratic and equal objectives preached in 1994 when the beautiful ideal of the Rainbow Nation emanated throughout the country infusing a hope that has fluttered into the background recently. Yet amidst all these problems, this country is still proceeding, is still pushing forward to desperately attempt to better the lives of all of its citizens by admitting its faults and implementing new plans that, though they are often more damaging than helpful, are manifest recognition of this rebuilding process. Throughout my time here, I have developed a genuine concern for the future of this country and the well-being of those who inhabit it because I am in awe of the efforts made by South Africa to create a democratic society for all. When the black majority was handed power, they sought to reconcile with their oppressors who remained their neighbors, they did not take revenge, they did not enforce a plan of retribution. This country is currently at an extremely important stage in which each individuals decisions and actions toward each other represent something much bigger. I think that this reality is truly amazing, for it compels each person to consider the consequences of their choices, it amplifies the importance of each person.

I am extremely appreciative of my upbringing in America, I know that the resources that I had access to throughout my life are the product of my surroundings, so I do not mean to bash my motherland, however, I think that the individualism, consumerism and elitism that permeate so many different aspects of American life are forces that perhaps may collide with the ideals that I hope to base my future community, my family life and my occupation upon. When I say individualism I refer to the lack of responsibility we often feel toward one another and when I say consumerism I mean the discontentment that forces people to constantly be focusing on what can fill the voids we have been conditioned to constantly pinpoint. This is not necessarily a reference to purchasing material objects, but constantly feeling as though we need more than what we actually need in order to make us happy while so many others have so much less than what they need. And when I say elitism, I mean a mentality that seems to me to have been cultivated in the education of every American child that promotes an Ameri-centrism that justifies unjust acts and beliefs about other groups of people and ways of thinking. Therefore it seems quite easy to live a life in America that does not motivate us to care for each other and to feel as though our actions as individuals serve a greater purpose.

I know that I sound very idealistic and “I-went-abroad-and-now-everything-has changed-and -I-hate-capitalism-and-America,” but at this specific point in time I see an alternative that, for me, has the potential to offer the meaning, the value system and the opportunities that trample upon these forces that often blur our vision and complicate our capacity to care for each other on a micro and macro level. As of now, I think I want to live in Israel. That is not to say that Israel is devoid of its problems, in fact it may have more than the U.S., but they are problems that align with the same issues I have in my own head and heart, they surround faith, conflicting realities and truths and the seeming incapacity to coexist. The conversations that must take place surrounding these issues are ones in which I have begun to participate and ones that need to progress and evolve. While at times the state of Israel seems to doomed into eternal turmoil, I feel as though the constant fight to put an end to it and at times to keep it going, is one to which I have a responsibility, is one to which I am bound. To live in a country that’s inherent existence is entangled in discussions of a conflict of this nature is something that seems to add a new significant dimension to life, is something that elevates ones being into a collective that has a higher purpose. The diversity, the calamity and the uncertainty of both South Africa and Israel have produced an intrinsic value that ties each South African, each Israeli, and his or her actions together, that attaches meaning to every decision made and every war waged. Though I have benefited more than words can describe from growing up in America, I do not feel as though my existence as an American provides me with this same significance.

I have learned that as much as I may have tried to convince myself otherwise by initially embarking on this journey, Judaism is my core. I came hear knowing that I would acquaint myself with the Jewish community in order to have places to travel to on Shabbat and friends to go with, but I figured that my general abroad experience would be of a primarily secular nature. This is not to say that Judaism would not be a constant presence but that it would be more a personal dimension of my life here that would compel me to make decisions independently and allow myself the opportunity to analyze and place the religious transformation I had experienced before this. I would not have imagined that being here would in itself activate a completely new transition process within my Judaism. I would not have though that my exposure the Jewish community would have prompted me to shift from such a personal Jewish identity to one that is very much intertwined with the community at large and the need to participate in its maintenance. Ultimately, Judaism is in everything that I do and it allows me to constantly contextualize and justify the decisions that I make. It is my conscience and it what I crave. I continue to want to learn more, to attend shiurim, to talk about it, to battle with it. It is my defining feature, my essence and I feel so lucky to be able to say that. I feel so lucky to be committed to something that constantly forces me to question myself and my actions, to something that protects me, to something that allows me to understand how to live in a way that I feel is meaningful.

Along that same topic, I have learned to fully appreciate the insight and leadership of Rabbis. I think prior to this experience I had been quite hostile in my head toward Orthodox, authority figures, but being exposed to such intelligent, dynamic rabbis here who sincerely care about the welfare of their communities and who embrace the importance of their role in a shrinking Jewish population has allowed me to cultivate a sincere sense of gratitude toward them. I will forever be amazed by the ability of many of the rabbis here to work together toward a common goal and recognize the value that lies in combining their different beliefs and mindsets with the intention of accommodating different types of Jews who have different needs and may be turned off by one authority who is the sole voice in his community. Quality leadership has so much potential to generate excitement, a newfound meaning within individuals and collectives and an underrated connection between the ideals and traditions of Judaism and the world at large in which we all function.

Speaking of cool Rabbis, this past Thursday night I went to hear Rabbi Akiva Tatz, a well-known rabbi who has authored a bunch of books, speak at a shul in Sea Point. Wow, his discussion of happiness in a troubled world (which seems quite cliché I know) was just one more incredible opportunity to consume new ideas and beliefs that I can continue to relate to my own life. He said that being in a constant state of joy is about knowing that there is always something you can be doing in order to grow. Even in situations where it seems as though sorrow would consume you, like mourning, we are given guidelines and rules that allow us to do something meaningful by helping the soul of the person who has passed on continue to rise to new spiritual levels since there is no longer a physical body to do so for the soul itself. As long as we have something that continues to bestow meaning upon us we are able to be in a state of joy, of spiritual progress, because it confirms our hunch that there is something higher that we are working towards. It confirms that though we experience pain and negativity, we are constantly working toward something greater, something founded upon a great deal of meaning that can perhaps be propelled forward by both the good and the seemingly bad.

He elaborated on this point by saying that being happy during the journey is dependant upon the anticipation of getting to the destination. Being happy when you arrive is dependant upon the accomplishment you feel from the journey being so difficult. The meeting point of journey and destination is thus the pinnacle of joy because it brings these two states of happiness together. This is a reflection of olam habah, for it strips us down to what we have accomplished in this world. In the next world, we are confronted with the versions of ourselves that have reached their full potential and are then face to face with the gap between what we were and what we could have been. The world that will be is a repeat of what was without all of the other gashmiut to hide what we have become or what we have failed to become. He beautifully related this to what purpose Shabbat truly serves. It is not a time of rest from the hard work that we have been engaging in for the week that preceded it, rather it is a stoppage in the process of development, of progress, so that instead of focusing on what will be, we are able to find the joy in what already exists. This day provides us with an opportunity truly relish in all that we have been given and what we have helped create. This is why the root of Shabbat, shev, means to sit (this same root is also found in the word yeshiva), because though sitting is often perceived negatively as a halt in progress, we are allowed to remain stagnant to sit, in a place of Torah and of avodat Hashem because though physically we may not be moving forward, spiritually, we are clearly elevating ourselves. (Wow, I have become so frum, I just keep reiterating shiurim, you must think that all I do is go hear Rabbis speak. I promise while I have done my fair share of that I have also taken complete advantage of all that this experience had to offer.)

I have also learned empirically through this blog that writing is a necessary outlet for expressing my emotions and understanding my own experiences in a greater context. I have not bought much while being here and I have also not taken very many pictures. Perhaps this is because I am cheap and lazy, but I like to give myself a little bit more credit, I think another reason may be because this blog is my primary memento of this experience. I will forever be able to read this and look at the few pictures I took and the others which I stole from online (legally…I promise), for I have encapsulated my life here in a way that would be belittled and simplified by a little statue of a giraffe. I don’t know if I will continue it, but I know that this specific avenue of expression is something that will always be a huge part of my life. If I do choose to continue, I think I might keep the title and the context. While I clearly will not physically be in Cape Town anymore, I think that I can shift my understanding of this place to a state of mind that allows me to analyze so many different experiences and set of circumstances at once in conjunction with one another. So perhaps this specific alley of communication with my own mind and other people in my life has not seen its end just yet.

I think that in the end one of the most important things that I have learned is that I am content with who I am. I think I have felt this in some way for a while, but being here alone with no real roots present to hold me up, I have had to make decisions completely independently of every other force in my life and I am extremely happy with the decisions that I made and with the things that I committed myself to here. I am excited to see how I can build off of all of what I have learned here and all the lessons that I have acquired.

Study abroad experiences are often seen as a pause from a person’s normal life. While at times I did feel as though this experience took on that identity, I think that I was ultimately able to use this time constructively in dealing with identity issues, understanding of my surroundings, relationships, religious struggles and so much more; I was able to live my life in Cape Town in conjunction with my life on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. I am not returning to a world that was stagnant while I was away, I am going back to a world that has grown, that has become more complex, and I feel as though I am departing having undergone the same transformations. I have been forced to develop an awareness that must be applied to everything here, an awareness that will continue to force me to ask questions about where I am, who else is here, who is not here and why perhaps that is the case. I don’t think that can stem from simply being in a new place, rather it is the product of submitting to a much more multifarious experience that has challenged me in countless ways. Yes, I am a little apprehensive about transitioning back into American culture, remembering which side of the road to look at when I cross the street, not taking half hour naps in between surfing from one internet site to another, but I think that I am leaving with more than what I am leaving behind. I am bringing back lessons and ideas that I am eager to incorporate into the future that awaits me.

Thanks for joining me on my journey. Cheers!

A few important lessons..

2008-06-11T04:00:00.000-07:00

I hope everyone feels spiritually renewed after a meaningful Shavuot. I had quite a good experience at my favorite shul in Cape Town. It was a very nice way to bid farewell to the wonderful community of Sea Point and to have an opportunity to really reflect on what I have gained in a Jewish context while being abroad, to once more appreciate the amazing hospitality of the people I have met and to begin to think about how all of this has been internalized and perhaps changed my perspective on certain things, on both a micro and macro scale.

I would like to share a few of the interesting ideas that I learned over Shavuot that somehow have factored into this whole process. One of the shiurim I went to explored the identity of Moshe through the lens of his forgotten name. His name which refers to having been drawn out of the water by Pharaoh’s daughter was only bestowed upon him when he was incorporated into the royal family of the Egyptians. So then what was the Jewish name (which reflects the true essence of he or she who possesses it) of this most famous leader of the B’nei Yisrael? The midrash says that the answer can be found in the pasuk that states that when the child was born, he was seen as “good.” There is further discussion about what this means (either in the midrash or in the gemarah, I don’t remember) that relates this statement back to the days of creation when God would use the same word to describe what was created on each day. That interpretation of good had a dimension of perfection attached to it. So was this good here, this tov that perhaps may have been his name, implying the same features of Moshe’s identity? The Rabbi discussed that this was a different good, a good that was not necessarily inherent but rather one that was bestowed upon Moshe by God, a good that did not stand on its own but was rather the result of a specific decision made by God to make this being good and allow that good to develop through a relationship with God. Thus Moshe’s name was not tov, rather it was tuvia, which means “good of God.” Moshe was not a being whose goodness could be separated from God but was rather dependant upon this link which teaches the lesson that our inherent qualities do not define what we are but can rather be improved upon and transformed so that we can utilize them correctly through a relationship with God. If this is the case in the development of Moshe, than kal va’chomer, all the more so, we can channel our qualities into some sort of spirituality that can strengthen and transform the characteristics that make up who we are.

Wow I feel like I have started to sound so frum from all this Jewspeak. I suppose I am ok with that. Continuing on a similar vain, another really interesting topic that was discussed was the reason why Har Sinai, the mountain at which the Jewish people received the ten commandments, possesses that name. The Gemarah records a conversation pertaining to this question. One rabbi says that perhaps it is because the word Sinai is similar to nisim, miracles, which refers to the great miracles that God performed for the Jewish people at this location. But this idea is rejected because for the generations that followed those physically present for z’man matan torateinu, (though we were all spirituall present apparently), this is not a name to which we can relate, for we did not experience those miracles first-hand. So another rabbi suggests that perhaps it is called Sinai to reflect the siman tov, the good sign, that this event represented for the future of the Jewish people. This suggestion is also rejected because the receiving the Torah was not just a good sign for the Jewish people, but is an ethical system that has the potential to benefit the entire world. The dismissal of these two ideas hints at the Gemerah’s purpose to create a system of law and legend to which every generation of Jews can understand and incorporate into their lives. The Torah and all of the processes that followed its giving, are supposed to construct a framework that continually provide guidelines for how to operate in a changing world. In the spirit of this idea, the final suggestion of the root of the name Har Sinai is found in the word sina, hatred. This seems quite strange since hatred is negative and receiving the Torah is one of the defining highlights of Jewish history. Rashi elaborates on this idea by saying that Har Sinai is the place where the non-Jewish hatred of the Jews was born. Still this seems quite negative, but the Rabbi said that the hatred is a result of the goodness and wonder of the Torah. All of the other nations of the world, which all supposedly rejected the Torah, developed a jealousy directed toward the Jews for possessing such an invaluable, remarkable system of rules. Thus the sina that developed at Sinai both communicates the morality that the Torah can potentially create for each generation as well as dictate how it can, and needs to, be used to activate these ethics in relationship to the rest of the world and implement the torah in all parts of life, both Jewish and secular, to transform this hatred into appreciation and demonstrate how this system can benefit other nations instead of being a source of hatred and conflict. This idea is at once an affirmation of Jewish life, a suggested explanation for the constant threats that confront Jewish life and maintenance and a challenge to positively implement it within the world at large.

While I suppose this idea is linked with a Jewish elitism (that has the potential to generate other issues) I personally often find very problematic, I think that this dialogue, accompanied by an extensive summary of the Talmudic process by the Rabbi, really reflected the various positive dimensions of torah study. Engaging in this activity is not just maintaining a link with our past but it is allowing that past to be relevant to the present and understanding the true timelessness of the amazing gift of the torah; an entity that offers necessary meaning, accountability and connection. Both of these discussions really expose the Jewish value placed upon the practice of looking deeper, elevating the profane to a level a sacred, and understanding the complicated nature of identity. Throughout Shavuot these were three themes that continued to present themselves which allowed me to start developing a deeper understanding of why tradition and the texts related to it are so necessary to preserving the wonders of Judaism. I say all of this a little hesitantly because I personally am extremely confused and conflicted over the balance between stagnancy and fluidity within Jewish law, text and life. I constantly ask myself, is it necessary to feel the need to uphold all of these things for the sake of Jewish endurance if they do not comply with a code of ethics that I feel committed to? However I have become more and more optimistic that the only way to explore and perhaps answer this question is by continuing to learn and to struggle.

The three themes listed above that I believe are intrinsically linked with Torah study also happen to be important lessons that have extended into so many other parts of this experience and ways of thinking. Looking deeper, elevating the profane to a level a sacred, and understanding the complicated nature of identity, are three practices that I believe are necessary to a variety of different experiences. As you may have noticed, I have tried to incorporate these into my classes, volunteering, general exposure to South Africa and the people who inhabit this wonderful, complicated and troubled country, developing a relationship with the Cape Town Jewish community and general exploration of how all of these things can influence my own identity. In doing so I have often, made mistakes, contradicted and confused myself, but I have also discovered significant truths about myself and the world that I never knew. And the most valuable lesson I have learned is to continue to learn (cliché number 623). I like to think that I have always been an avid consumer of the different resources that the world has to offer, but looking back on my introduction to the practical context of my surroundings, I admit is something I have only begun to develop since being here. I think this new process perhaps can explain why I have jumped from topic to topic, opinion to opinion overwhelming myself and perhaps you. I have been wrong about things, I have changed my standing on certain issues and feel like over the past few posts have taken what seems to be a more right wing position on certain things than I may have intended, but I suppose this is all part of the learning process. I want to know about the world in a new way, I want to understand economic policy, military strategy, the life paths of world leaders, dimensions of poverty, wealth and the spectrum that lies in between. I am hungry for all of this in all of its forms, not just through lenses that I adopt as my own, but I need to welcome voices that challenge what I think is true and just and lave me feeling like I know less than I did before being exposed to these opinions.

Another idea that was presented over Shavuot that I think sums a lot of this up was that our Jewish lives and identities strike a balance of that which is inherent and that which is created through free will. Being Jewish is something that we cannot escape, but it is our choice to define what that means to us, what kind of responsibilities and burdens that places upon each of us. We choose whether or not to receive the Torah, we choose what that means to each of us. It is up to us to decide what to do with the resources presented to us. It is also up to us to understand that we all have access to different resources and thus our decisions are a product of very different circumstances.

With a few days left in the city, country and state of mind, I will continue to sift through all that I will be leaving and all that I will be leaving with. But something tells me I will just end up more and more confused and in an ideological no-man’s land. I suppose for now though, at my young age and limited base of knowledge, that is not such a bad thing.

South African…Afrikaans Ulpan: ( I seem to be running low on cultural terms so…)

Biblioteek – library

Cheers!

The end is near....

2008-06-08T04:37:00.000-07:00

So I am officially a college senior, though it sounds strange to focus on a solely academic transformation when it seems as though so many other processes have taken place since arriving in South Africa, for now it is something in which I take great pride. This past week was consumed by studying and test-taking, which in the end was not as trying as I would have expected. Though the South African educational system has proved itself to be of high quality to me it seems that what is expected of you in return as a student is rather simple. Two out of my three tests were regurgitations of paper that I have already written, which made studying rather unnecessary. But in the end I do think that this system allowed me to cement all of the ideas that have been festering in my head and now if you ever want to know about Black Consciousness, Robben Island, export oriented industrialization, the economic evolution of Mauritius or the historical development of Eastern Bantu speaking societies in sub-Saharan Africa throughout the Iron Age, I am definitely your gal. Ultimately, I am extremely satisfied with my academic experience here; the subjects that I learned collectively painted a very multi-dimensional image of South Africa and some of its neighbors that truly allowed me to begin to develop an understanding of my surroundings in a way that unfourtanately far exceeds my awareness of the country and society that I actually live in. But maybe now I will have the motivation to begin to build that up as well.

So now that one very significant aspect of my time in South Africa, I am left with eight days of my semester abroad to start the process of placing this whole experience within a greater context. I find it fitting that Shavuot happens to be a large chunk of that time period because reception of the Torah also seems to be quite a significant culmination that has forced us to consider our spiritual positioning over the past 49 days (and perhaps a much longer period as well) as an entire people and as individuals as well. At a shir last week, I learned that though Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur are the days that determine our welfare for the coming year and thus require us to cleanse ourselves and request forgiveness for our sins, the annual fate that is solidified during these days is one of a primarily physical nature. Our subsistence and survival is determined in this time period, but our spiritual destiny is actually one that is decided on the annual occurance of the reacceptance of the Torah, Shavuot. Even more significant, we are personally in charge of our own fate, we make the individual choice to experience a year of spiritual fortune or emptiness. Taking on the commandments of the Torah is quite a hefty task and one that we need to commit ourselves to newly every year, for we cannot get caught up in the routine of banality that strips this decision, this relationship of its significance. Shavuot is not just a memory, but a chag that heavily impacts our decisions and our alignments.

While this, along with many of the topics I have discussed in the past, is perhaps a little exaggerated and dramatized, I think that this way of thinking perhaps adds an interesting new dimension to a holiday that we often associate with yummy cheesecake. Instead of it being a day that only commemorates the event that transformed the people of Israel into a nation, religion, civilization all simultaneously, it provides us with a unique opportunity to be active participants in that process. Understanding the importance of the Torah which I would expand to an entire system of ethics and morality, in whichever way you choose to interpret it, is something that strongly influences who we are as Jews and as human beings and because of this it seems quite beneficial to partake in such a defining, intense act. This is why the period of the omer exists, so that we can prepare ourselves for this undertaking and so that we can make an informed decision regarding our own status for the coming year.

I think that now is a symbolic omer for me personally, a time to really start to think about how much I have learned and how I can bring all of this back with me into the life that has been put on pause in a sense for the past five months. While I suppose I have been doing this throughout my Cape Town adventure I think that I have been constantly obtaining very separate experiences and mental mementos and in order to truly contextualize and translate these into my normal life, I think that I need to step back and look at the broader picture to truly understand who I am now in relationship to who I was five months ago. I know this sounds quite cheesy and dramatic, but hey I have since accepted that perhaps I am these things, and I should stop apologizing for it (unless you think I shouldn't stop that since it gets to be a bit much....just kidding). But I think that each experience is one that deserves this period of consideration, of pulling out the positives and the negatives and finding them the necessary place in the whole of one's identity, one's history, so that it is possible to understand and decide what we have the potential to accomplish in the future as a result of what we have already experienced. I think that this process is quite synonymous with what is asked of us in realtionship to our Jewish and spiritual identities on Shavuot.

I think at this point, I am at a loss for how I could possibly begin to sum up this experience. So much has happened, so much has been consumed, so much has been purged and I think that I will bestow this gift of a short blog post upon you in preparation for a more extensive and thorough update of my status as a result of this experience that will have to be written in the near future.

South African Ulpan:

narchie - umbrella term for the family of miniature orange-type fruits such as tangerinea and clementines.

Cheers!

Chag Sameach!

2008-06-02T15:24:00.000-07:00

Today is Yom Yerushalayim, I probably would not have known this if it were not for a fantastic event that happened in my favorite shul in Cape Town last night. I don’t remember ever attaching so much value to this chag but after my experience this year I think I may begin to in the future. The entire Cape Town community came together, Rabbis and members of every shul, to rejoice in an often forgotten holiday. In celebration and commemoration of the reclamation (wow that could be a rap) of Jerusalem that occurred 41 years ago today, on the 28^th of Iyar, we davened, sang, danced and ate (obviously) together as one unit, one people. While anything related to Israel, Jerusalem and war are clearly loaded topics, especially in South Africa (as you may have gathered by now), this act of remembrance seemed to transcend politics for one evening and rather than fight, we could collectively recognize the miracle of this event that happened six decades ago. Morasha (the shul where this took place) imported a Rabbi from Johannesburg, the Jerusalem of Cape Town that apparently has more kosher restaurants per Jewish capita than any other city (just a fun fact for you), for the event. When I heard the community was bringing in someone I was confused because there are so many dynamic Rabbis already here. But as Rabbi Lawrence Perez spoke, I understood why many were excited for him to impart wisdom upon all of us, and more significantly, I began to understand the true miracle of the event we were memorializing.

In a commanding yet compassionate tone, Rabbi Perez historically set the stage for the six day war. Now I know, that ultimately Israel was victorious against Egypt, Syria and Jordan (whose collective army was assisted by soldiers from four other Arab countries), I know that the remarkable strides made by Israel into various territories are an important aspect of the controversy that persists in the politics of the region today, but the way the Rabbi set the stage for the inevitable war made me question if such a victory was at all possible. A Rabbi had once told him that in preparation for an inevitable war in which Israel would fight alone against an Arab defense force made up of soldiers from seven different countries all salivating over the likely destruction of the lone Jewish, middle Eastern democracy, he was sent to a famous park in Tel Aviv to halachically convert it into a cemetery, for those that already existed would not be enough to accommodate the expected 50,000 Israeli casualties. This was a war in which a budding teenager of a country, of an army somehow defended itself from an established, cooperative, world force and in the face of probable, complete destruction. Not only did the IDF hold off this seven country army, but they captured The West Bank, Gaza, the Golan Heights and East Jerusalem in six days. How was this possible? How were only around 700 soldiers killed (not too diminish the importance of those lives)? How could looming, inevitable obliteration of a land that was starting to provide hope for a healing Jewish people translate into enriching a country and an entire nation with a new sense of strength and pride?

Rabbi Perez answered this question in a fashion that froze me in my seat. He said that the American army collects strategies and plans from every war that has ever been documented in order to assess and widen the possibilities of its own military actions. One war is not included in this collection: the six day war. When an American general was asked how this could possibly be, how could the tactics of the underdog of all underdogs not be important in considering military engagement, he answered that you cannot learn from a miracle. There was something else driving the army of the Jewish homeland toward victory, a power that’s presence transcends the physical world; this victory was a modern day miracle.

Since the events of Chanukah 2,200 years ago, the Jewish people have lived and subsisted without any manifestation of the finger of God. Jews have been expelled, tortured and killed without any divine intervention. The chosen people have been physically disconnected from the God who chose them and still this nation has endured. Yet this generation is different from those of the past two millennia for we have witnessed a miracle, we have seen the finger of God in action.

He then went on to forge a connection between Yom Yerushalayim and Shavuot, which arrives exactly one week after. He discussed how when the Jews arrived at Mt. Sinai, Moshe said to them atem ra’item, you have seen the miracles of God, you have been freed from your shackles and placed on the wings of eagles, now you are ready to accept the Torah, you are ready to submit yourself fully to a God who has proved the unfathomable completeness of what God is capable of. As we prepare to reaccept the Torah in one week’s time, we must recognize that we have seen miracles as well. We have a land that substantiates the existence and power of God, we have lived through or her first hand accounts of an unexplainable military victory. We live in a remarkable time of atem ra’item. Rabbi Perez strengthened this point by pointing out that our generation has generated an unprecedented movement of Jews who have returned to their religious roots, who have felt this physical, celestial presence here on earth.

At its roots, Shavuot and receiving the Torah are about understanding the true power of God and committing to what that God tells us to do, for we are at God’s mercy. Yom Yerushalayim allows us to once again remember the miracles of our generation, not distant stories of our nation’s past, not narratives in which memories only live on in the pages of a sacred text. Rabbi Perez then discussed how in Megillat Esther, the Jews are said to have reaccepted the Torah after the death of Haman and the ensuing war. The reason for this parallels the mission that we are about to embark on in the coming week. When one witnesses a miracle, present in the Purim story, present in the 1967 six day war, it provides us with the opportunity to reevaluate our connection and discover the true power of God. Our generation of atem ra’item places us in a remarkable historic position that has been absent for more than two millennia.

I felt stuck in my seat after hearing Rabbi Perez speak. I sincerely felt heavier and that more effort was required of me to move. I had never before understood the unfathomable wonder of the six-day war and the subsequent reclamation of Yerushalayim. This experience and belief has been supported even more by my latest literary adventure, a political biography of Yasir Arafat. Before reading the book, I had a general idea of Arafat’s indecisive nature and constant use of “diplomacy” to appease both the Western world who for decades believed they could make an ally out of Arafat who would someday reform his ways and loyalties and simultaneously convince the Arab world of his unwavering devotion to the destruction of a Jewish state. But wow, how did the world let this pattern repeat over and over again? He and the Palestinian Liberation Organization whose primary objective for decades was simply to destroy Israel without any plan of empowerment, mass mobilization or country building, simply moved from Arab country to Arab country exploiting there hospitality and exacerbating most problems that have existed in the Middle East for the past half of a century. When looking for a dwelling place the PLO would set up camp in Jordan and then stage cross-border attacks on Israel which Jordan condemned because it led to Israel conducting defense attacks on not just the PLO but Jordan as well. Though Arafat, the unchallenged leader of the Palestinians, promised to stop, he did not hold to his word, a pattern he repeated so often in the future. Jordan finally was fed up with the danger Arafat’s presence posed to the country and told them they were no longer welcome. The PLO proceeded to settle in Lebanon and replicated these actions and were then expelled after causing the virtual destruction of Beirut. Arafat constantly shifted his loyalties to suit his own interest and that of his high officials to keep them loyal to him. Once dependent upon Egyptian support and than Syrian support, he would not hesitate to break these allegiances. And all along Western countries saw his nationalism as some sort of indication that he was more moderate than the Arab countries who relied on staunch religionism (Islamism) and would continue to discuss peace and change.

AAAHH!! When reading this book, I constantly grip it tightly and sigh to myself at the corruption, apathy and selfishness of this man. Granted I have not finished the book, I clearly am commenting from an extremely limited base of knowledge and the book that I am reading is perhaps written from a specific point of view, though Barry Rubin seems to be quite a credible source. But it seems to me that if ever someone would have challenged him and posed some sort of plan to better the lives of Palestinians as opposed to focusing only on the destruction of Israel which the PLO had no plan for translating into a successful formation of a country, perhaps the Israeli-Palestinian conflict would not seem as complex and, at times, hopeless. The hate that Arafat fostered toward Israel or his entire life, though he suppressed at some points to further his own gains, and his ability to instill that same hate in the hearts of so many Palestinians who were hungry for leadership even if it would never lead to a better life and better conditions, seems to have set the scene for the dangerous and desperate political landscape of Israel today. It also has revealed the hate that existed among all the Arab countries in the time of the imminent six day war. The only thing Arafat can be thanked for in my mind seems to be that he caused internal turmoil among the Arab countries so at times they could shift their hatred from Israel to each other. Ultimately, this book has terrified me about the disdain that is directed toward Israel and has simultaneously compelled me to believe in the generation of atem ra’item, for it truly seems that God must have been active in defeating such strong hate and destruction. I know that I am not qualified to discuss these things and perhaps I should not try, but the primary reason I wanted to discuss the Arafat book is because it all the more so convinced me of the miracle of the six-day war, and the miracle that in all its difficulty and criticism, Israel endures…and it must endure, for it is a huge element of what ties all Jews together.

Thinking back to a rally that I attended last week dealing with the plague of xenophobia that continues to leave tens of thousands of fearful refugees throughout South Africa (many in Cape Town) with empty stomachs, inadequate materials to survive the ensuing winter weather and uncertain futures, I realized the importance of a homeland, of a place that if kept safe can keep all of us safe, that can offer us asylum if ever we were to need it. While 18 different representatives of different religious, political, medical, human rights, refugee groups and others spoke out in solidarity against the embarrassing, destructive and dehumanizing attacks, I was overcome by a sense of pride in being present for such a wonderful display of community and mobilization around a common cause, but simultaneously by fear, a fear for all of those whose cause is being discussed but not actively confronted. For hate runs through the veins of some South Africans, a hate that is jeopardizing the future of so many refugees who had high hopes upon arriving in the African beacon of hope. What can be done for those who escaped danger and arrived in a situation that welcomed them with the same dangers? Where can they go?

However, another experience I had last week allowed me to see the commonality that we all share in a very unexpected context, providing me with a hope that perhaps the hate that threatens the peace of so many regions in the world could perhaps be destroyed through understanding our similarities, our ubuntu,our nying je. Along with my Religion, Sexuality and Gender class I visited the Claremont Mosque, the only Mosque in all of Cape Town that allows women to sit on the same floor as men. It was an extremely interesting experience. The women all covered there hair with scarves which was quite an interesting sight in its own right since most of us were noticeably white and American. The prayer itself was a simple Friday afternoon service, but it seemed quite amazing to welcome the group of us who were simply interested in seeing what a Mosque service is like. I don’t believe that any of us are Muslim, but we were a part of this community, a community made up of those forging connections with God, those listening to words that would compel them to be better versions of themselves. I personally felt in watching the devoutness of so many of these men and women that shine through in their intense and passionate facial expressions, that the prayer that I offer in such a similar form and context perhaps ends up in the same place. There are similarities in our differences, there is perhaps a shared struggle to be inspired, to improve, to feel like we belong in a structure larger than ourselves. Islam is often associated with the negative, but being present for religious ritual, hearing the Imam renounce xenophobia, feeling the warmth of the desire to be better made me feel, were experiences I could relate to, were experiences that gave me hope that perhaps we can embrace that which is both different and similar, instead of simply fearing and hating that which is not like us.

Obviously this idealism has its limitations in political, social and economic realties. But at that moment in the mosque, it seemed possible. Perhaps the solidarity among all of us is just another miracle in our generation of atem ra’item that we can both hope for and attempt to bring to fruition.

You have clearly read enough. Cheers!

Have Some "Nying Je" for South Africa

2008-05-24T15:07:00.000-07:00

So classes have ended along with volunteering and for the next week I will be studying, writing papers and hopefully reacquainting myself with Cape Town, a city that is unfortunately quite different from the last time I immersed myself in it just a few months ago. The past few weeks in the whole country of South Africa have been pretty scary. Due to a huge influx of migrants who have recently fled from Zimbabwe as a result of escalating dangers that the ongoing election catastrophe has generated, violence and hate has broken out in various parts of the country.

First some background….For those of you who do not know, Zimbabwe’s March presidential election between one of the longest ruling dictator (28 years) in the modern world, Robert Mugabe, who has been primarily responsible for a rising 165,000% inflation rate in a once up-and-coming economy and whose actions have caused 80% of the population to be unemployed, and the head of the brave Movement for Democratic Change, Morgan Tsvangirai, has yet to be resolved. Tsvangirai originally won 48% of the votes while Mugabe won 41%. While this outcome necessitates a runoff due to the absence of a winner of a majority vote, the MDC refused to participate in one for a while because they believe that they did in fact win a majority as a result of certain votes not being counted after Mugabe’s party ZANU-PF waited many days and weeks in some cases to report the results. The Zimbabwe constitution states that a runoff must take place within 30 days of the election and 3 months later, both parties have hesitantly set a date, however, under conditions not very conducive to a free and fair election since ZANU-PF has been employing physical means to pressure MDC supporters to shift their loyalties. Violence has spread throughout the country and has spawned a huge amount of displacement, leaving tens of thousands of people with no home and very little hope.

In search of safety, many of those who were displaced migrated to South Africa. Yet upon their arrival, South Africans began to attack them for coming into a land in which resources such as food, water, shelter and employment are already quite scarce. The violence began in the Johannesburg township of Alexandria two weeks ago and has spread to Durban and Cape Town. The continuing aggression has not only dispersed geographically but the criteria of the victims have broadened. Now all refugees from various African countries who have come both recently and not-so-recently (some of the victims have been living in South Africa for decades) have become extremely vulnerable to what is being characterized as a plague of “xenophobia.” Since the start of this outbreak less then two weeks ago, an estimated 17,000 people have been forcibly removed from their homes and at least 50 have been killed. It is an extremely scary time for so many people who migrated to the Mecca of a struggling continent in search of a better life. Instead of opportunity, they have been confronted with hate and torture at the hands of other Africans, and have been confronted with violence that was called by one article the worst outbreak in the democratic era (since 1994).

I think (and I acknowledge that my opinion has many limitations due to a small scope of understanding in regard to the complexities of the specific situation and relationships between different Africans in general) that while there is clearly a great deal of hate towards and fear of difference attached to the attacks, using xenophobia as the keyword in this situation takes away from the economic implications that need to be appropriately addressed in this conversation. Countless South Africans already do not have access to the resources they need and to have newcomers invade their territory and threaten this already extremely-restricted accessibility is terrifying. Xenophobia is a glaring problem that has existed for centuries in Africa and needs to be dealt with but not at the expense of the recognition of the millions who remain impoverished after 14 years of waiting to relish in the perks of democracy and the thousands more from other countries who share the same dream, not only for their sake but for that of their future generations. This is a glaring example of the remnants of the Apartheid system still festering in the ravaged, dangerous townships and the boiling hatred between different African cultures.

The ANC government has been criticized for reacting too slowly and passively to the outbreak. The president of the ANC, Thabo Mbeki, has also been extremely criticized for his passivity and vagueness regarding the actions of Mugabe and ZANU-PF, not only in relationship to the election but also throughout all of their corrupt, violent and immoral actions that have been happening in Zimbabwe throughout Mbeki’s presidency of the supposed superpower of Africa, whose placement of potential pressures on Zimbabwe to be better might actually serve a constructive purpose. This may hint one of the many other problems emerging in this country; the unchanged disparity between the rich and the poor. While many black people have become affluent as a result of the 14 year old democratic system, many who fit into this category (government officials often included) have simply joined the rich whites who live in their own word and approach township/rural Africa as a completely different dimension that is disconnected from the world in which they live.

AAAH!! The world is drowning. “Xenophobia.” Earthquakes. Cyclones. Skyrocketing gas prices pocketed by nuclear Iran. America’s increasing trillion dollar debt and two-front war. I have started to legitimately become scared. Thankfully constructing a fear generated by all the world’s problems is not very feasible (where do you start?), so it has not been able to consume me. But is it fair that because I am lucky enough (at the moment) to not be directly impacted by any of these things (not to mention poverty, war, hunger, abuse, loneliness and all the other wide-spread tragic circumstances that are rampant wherever you are)? Is it fair that I can discuss the AIDS epidemic that is estimated to kill 6 million Africans by 2010 with the protection of education and money (though these two things do not make you immune obviously)? I feel so patronizing writing these things down being almost certain that I will not be the victim of this xenophobia, and that I am not actually a member of a vulnerable population to so many other problems in the world. I feel so patronizing because as much as I don’t think I am and don’t want to be, I am the oppressor, I am taking resources away from millions and millions of people who need them, even though I do not mean to.

Yet at the same time, these issues are pressing in every circle for different reasons. This past Friday night, the sermon I heard exposed me to exactly why acknowledgment is so necessary. The rabbi began by speaking about the escalating violence that is happening so close to us and I expected an exciting “social justice with sprinkles of Torah” speech. Instead, without ever referring back to this situation, the rabbi discussed how we can react to these situations by appreciating the privileges that we have access to as Jews. The three examples he gave were Shabbat, family and affluence. Besides for the fact that these things are not criteria for being Jewish and thus not all have them, the main problem was that he was basically saying that the circumstances that those people experience are pretty crappy, but look at what we have. What happened to loving your neighbor as yourself? I mean out of all the quintessential Jewish ideals we have, that’s got to be pretty high up there right? I do not know if this is the message that he meant to get across but to me this clearly demonstrated the same type of gap between the rich and the poor of this country; white Jews have the luxury to look at massive crime, poverty and displacement and see it as a sign of how lucky we are to be members of the chosen people. Personally, I think that being Jewish should make us realize that everyone deserves to have the blessings that we have, not just as Jews, but (for a lot of us) as members of a privileged population. We are all God’s creatures and if we do nothing else, I think we should acknowledge these horizontal relationships and internalize the suffering of others and the awareness of how terrible it could be to be forced to leave your home and be consumed by the uncertainty of where you will be sleeping the same night or if you will have food to eat or any job to ensure subsistence for the coming week.

This reminds me of a really beautiful concept I have recently read about in a book written by the Dalai Lama. He discusses the difference between the popular understanding of the virtue of compassion and Buddhism’s interpretation of their equivalent, nying je. Compassion is about internalizing the plight of a sufferer. Because compassion is often used as a synonym for sympathy, it connotes a feeling of pity for that sufferer. Yet the Dalai Lama says that this pity creates a sense of condescension, of hierarchal distance between the sympathizer, the subject and the object that is suffering. But he describes nying je as a feeling of gentility, generosity, affection that is rather a form of empathy that links the person who is suffering to the person who has it. Nying Je is not felt for someone, but rather with someone. Because Buddhism teaches that all is vanity until we are stripped to our naked existence and thus we are all the same for all beings possess no more or less than anyone else, no physical items, no status symbols. We are all essentially the same and as result we are connected to every person, we are the same. So nying je is the acknowledgment that we are responsible for each other not by choice but by our very essence as living beings. The Dalai Lama also says that this term strattles the line between empathy and reason which are often seen as mutually exclusive but in Buddhism, they are dependent upon each other. True empathy allows a person to be honest, and experience a process so that righteous emotions are not spontaneous, but rather a product of reason and honorable exploration.

I thought this was such a beautiful idea that really allowed me to understand what my primary problem with the rabbi’s speech was. Humans so often sympathize and create a distance between themselves and the person whom they direct their compassion to. But that seems to be a pretty self-absorbed way of thinking when in actuality we are all responsible for one another and cannot be separated.

Hmm…so I can’t come up with any forced connection between all of this and the next paragraph that provides necessary sensitivity and practical linkage between the two and for that I apologize and hope you might still read on….So I found myself randomly reading a book a few days ago written by contemporary Jewish philosopher Emil Fackenheim. Specifically I was intrigued by an essay he wrote about self-actualization and human understandings of God. He said that most people view themselves as a subject in the world. As a result everything has to be incorporated into their life, modified and judged by the subject to serve a purpose as an object. Often people treat God in this fashion and decided that they need to incorporate God, as a malleable idea, into their lives. This leads people to think of self-actualization as a process reliant upon one’s own ability to be inspired by different aspects of God and Judaism in their own terms. Yet God is not an object, an idea that we can rework to feel closer to realizing our true selves. By definition God is everything and defines everything. So how can we define God? God is the subject and we are the objects. If we believe in a being that created the world, how can we decide how God functions within that world? If we view God as an idea that we can adjust to our own inspiration we contradict what God is. Thus, self actualization happens by acknowledging our status as objects that are not the actors but that which is acted upon. Now I do not think that this understanding is correct for everyone, but I do feel like it spoke strongly to me because for a while I have taken it upon myself to create my own understanding of God while still believing in a God that is responsible for the world and all that resides within it. But that does seem strange and self-important to me since God cannot be all-powerful yet subject to my judgment. I think the subject-object difference connotes a certain level of accountability. If one is only accountable to him or herself then it is easier to justify one’s actions, even if they are questionable. But if God is your ultimate Judge and thus the Torah is a blueprint of how to be judged favorably and live a good life, then it is easier to understand the difference between right and wrong (though this is not the only way to know the difference but I think it can be a successful tool in my opinion, but its totally ok if you disagree because I respect your entitlement to your own opinion). I do not know how this new way of thinking will present itself in my own life and thoughts but I think it is quite an interesting paradigm shift.

So instead of Ulpan, I have a question that I would like you to ponder….

How are Nying Je and Ubuntu (the shared humanity I discussed months ago that Desmond Tutu referred to in his book about the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission) similar or different?

See y’all in 3 weeks..and by you all I guess I mean Amercia…Cheers!

p.s. so the new pictures are stolen...but I promise I did so legally and only because I wanted you to see Robben Island and Khayelitsha (I have stopped taking my own pictures because I am too cheap to buy batteries, so this is quite a good method)

uch...tourists and neo-liberalsim

2008-05-18T11:31:00.000-07:00

Hi friends!!! So I finally physically went somewhere that might be of interest to all of you. Today I traveled via ferry to Robben Island, which is where Southern African political prisoners of different countries and different liberation organizations such as Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, Robert Sobukwe, Armhad Kathrada and thousands more were imprisoned as a result of their involvement in the struggle for freedom. Because the population that the tour is aimed at consists of a lot of tourists, which was quite apparent when looking at the camera-carrying, safari-hat-wearing, German-speaking tourists and embarrassingly observing their inquiries to take pictures of even the guy selling the tickets behind the counter, the information that is provided by the guides seems to qualify as common knowledge if you have read or learned about the struggle. Yet, even though I knew most of what was said such as the favorable food rations given to the coloured and Indian prisoners in comparison to the black prisoners to cause internal tension, the restrictive size of the cells, the dehumanizing nature of the purposeless, busy work that was required of the prisoners everyday for thirteen years, being there and feeling consumed by the eeriness, the rawness, the isolation of the island allowed me to see the experience of imprisonment and belittlement through a physical and experiential (since our guide actually served a sentence on the island) lens rather than just draw images in my head based on literature.

The island is only 12 km away from Cape Town (which is the equivalent to a little over seven miles I think for all of those Ameri-centric readers unfamiliar with the metric system used by most worldly inhabitants), so it the beautiful panoramic view of the city and its stunning, mountainous backdrop is quite visible from a lot of places on the island that the prisoners had access to. I would think that most people who spend time in prison are completely cut off from the outside world, but on Robben Island, the normal life they were accustomed to, was being waved in the faces of those who did not have the capacity to touch it, to be a part of it. The prison administration made sure that there was no way for the prisoners to communicate with the outside world and to even know what was going on within it, yet they were constantly reminded that what once was still is, which our guide, who experienced this, described as being emotionally torturous.

The island itself is extremely strange and gray. The few colors that ever existed on different structures on the island have all faded. There are random cemeteries located all around where the bodies of the lepers who were quarantined on the island in the early 1800’s are buried. There is a small village where the prison staff lived with their families that is currently occupied by past prisoners who now work for the prison as a museum. It must be quite difficult to live free in isolation in the same place where all of your freedoms and dignity were denied to you. The complexities of race relations, emotional and physical torture, Apartheid manifest, prisoners rising above their circumstances to forge bonds and knowledge and so many other layers that developed in this place are not reflected in the bareness of the walls and the simplicity of the landscape. What Robben Island once was condenses all of the horror and simultaneous beauty of the relationship between the oppressor and the oppressed, along with all the oppressed that the oppressor tried to turn against one another. As terrible as this restrictive, repressive environment was, it housed thousands of incredible people who sacrificed and fully gave themselves to their cause and to their people. Standing amidst such ugliness, I felt overcome by the greatness that overwhelmed it.

Visiting Robben Island, along with so many other physical and academic experiences, has revealed a remarkable truth about South Africa and its history; what this country is today, in all its fall-backs and triumphs, is built on the backs of a significant amount of individuals who grew up in circumstances that deprived them of so many skills and resources that seem so completely necessary to people who mature into national heroes and revolutionaries. It is inconceivable in Western countries that illiterate adults, people who grew up with limited education and without running water and electricity, who were denied access to crucial ideas and tools of self-empowerment, would ever be revered and beloved leaders. Yet in South Africa, that is what has happened. The government ministers are not Harvard graduates with 46 PhD’s, many of them are guerilla freedom fighters who were once deemed criminals and served decade long prison sentences. They are accessible, they are the hope that any person, from any upbringing can become something…and I do not mean in the way that John Edwards’ father was a mill worker. No disrespect to the Senator, but he lived in a time and place that offered him sufficient education, nutrients and treatment as a human being, Nelson Mandela, Thabo Mbeki (South Africa’s president) and so many others that have built up the new South Africa and will continue to do so did not have access to these luxuries. South Africans today who create organizations in townships that feed, educate and empower their fellow citizens who still live without so many necessary resources are doing so while also lacking access to these things. Though it is a lot harder to get to a place where one can start to think about the well-being of other’s because their’s is not ensured, individuals with nothing have provided so much for those in need.

The necessity for individual and communal engagement in South Africa has also become extremely evident to me through my Poverty, Development and Globalization class at UCT. The state of the South African economy is extremely poor. In 1994, when the African National Congress took office, they inherited an isolated economy that was drowning with no international allies. Having been shunned from the global village that had become so strong and interdependent over the decades in which the Apartheid regime was spending all of their mind-space, time and money on subjugating and oppressing the majority of the country’s population, the new government with limited diplomatic experience had to join the new world order to have any chance of surviving. In order to do so, they had to become involved in international trade. In order to accomplish this, they had to adopt a Western, neo-liberal mentality founded upon an open economy that relied on foreign investment and no direct state intervention (I think that this is a result of the communism-equals-evil phenomenon that has swept the globalized world). Yet at the same time, the new government was redistributing land that was taken away from the black majority that left 4/5 of the South African population with 13% of the country’s property during Apartheid. This new plan of land return led to tribal ownership of a significant amount of the South African landscape. This meant that foreign investment would have to generate without the promise of any actual ownership over the land which became communally owned in the new order. As a result, the private, external investment the world promised to South Africa in adopting a market-led, neo-liberal economy never materialized at the intended scope. Because, as I have learned with my new toolkit of practical ideas that are actually relevant to the reality around me unlike most classes I am used to taking, no self-interested private investor is going to invest in a venture in which they are denied ownership. So to sum up South Africa is in quite a pickle.

Various initiatives have been developed to deal with this problem, a few of which I just wrote a paper on, but for the most part the economy of South Africa is in need of a great deal of help (largely because of elitist, capitalist countries..uch). Two different initiatives relying upon two different ways of thinking that have specifically been implemented in a virgin, untouched, gorgeous region of the country called the Wild Coast reflect why every member of South African society that has the potential to bring about positive change. The first is a mineral mining project that has been implemented by an Australian company that has the potential to bring in 200 million U.S. dollars over a 22 year period. However at the same time the project is extremely detrimental to the natural resources and landscape as well as the native inhabitants of the specific area. This has caused severe unrest among the population since this neo-liberalist project dependent upon outside investors with no concern for the local communities. How can the lives of the poorer sectors of society that these new policies are supposed to benefit improve when the actions taken to do so are against their will? How can this project give these impoverished people the money and empowerment they need when they have no say and involvement in the economic ventures that supposedly help them?

On the other hand, there has been a rise in the development of community-based, eco-tourism that relies upon the community members to develop the programs and activities while partnering with a local NGO to organize the venture. By using local workers and residences to house the tourists, along with horses and hiking trails already within the possession of the community, the inhabitants are able to be involved in the development of their own communities while being provided with jobs and not needing to spend money on external equipment detrimental to the landscape and the community atmosphere. This initiative was extremely successful before the chairmen became corrupt and started investing in the mineral mining project. This has led to the virtual death of this project while also reflecting the choice of neo-liberalism over community-based, sustainable development that not only brought money into the community but provided members with jobs and a sense of internal ownership over their project. These people made a difference for a while, before stupid capitalism destroyed their efforts to continue (he success that hows now faltered reminded me of how the top layer of Rambam's 8 different levels of tzedakah is not related to giving money but to provide a sustainable livelihood and skill set to people who did not once possess these necessities. This allows people to be self-reliant, to be responsible for creating solutions that will imporve their circumstances and those of the people around them).

While it is clear that knowledge, education and experience is needed in leadership, it seems to me that each person can contribute to their abilities and resources to lift South Africa out of the economic hole it is falling deeper and deeper into. Neo-liberalism is not working. What has worked for many other countries (or at least for those who were already well off and became a little richer), cannot be perceived as the saving grace of South Africa, a country in a completely different position than other developing countries, who are also in completely different positions than others that are grouped together. Each country needs to rely on its own resources and needs to be given the freedom to develop in a way conducive to their own realities. One of the resources South Africa, I think (not that my opinion means much), must now rely upon is its citizens.

Another reason why this is relevant to the “every individual matters here” discussion is because my professor in this course is constantly telling the class that we need to pay attention to these realities, because not only do they have a great impact on “us” (I don’t really include myself considering my five months here will sadly not make a significant different in South African society) but also because this generation of UCT students (which by the way is an extremely diverse population consisting of so many people of different ethnicities, classes and races) is the first post-Apartheid population who is now receiving one of the best educations this country has to offer. Students in these classes, learning about these subjects, are the some of the ones who are going to be relied upon to affect change and confront the issues that are plaguing the country. South Africa is in trouble, and it is the responsibility of each person to find a cure to the ailments that are related to internal struggles but also to the arrogance of external forces.

Building a stronger country is not dependent upon credentials, it is dependent upon people committed to their cause who can think of creative solutions to problems. These skills can be developed in so many places and can be augmented and cultivated in many others, but making a difference is not limited to a specific population or experience. While volunteering in Khayelitcha this week I had a really cool experience that somehow, at least in my head, confirms this. Two boys in my class named Akona and Sibogheleni were fighting over a notebook. They each said that it belonged to them and I had no idea who was the true owner. When I asked them whose it was, Akona said that I should just cut it in half so they could split it. I then took the book and gave it to Sibogheleni. This reminded me of the story in the Tanach when two women come to King Shlomo both claiming to be the mother of a child they have brought with them. When trying to determine who the real mother is, one says to the king “why don’t you cut the baby in half and give each of us part of it?” Shlomo then realizes that the other woman must be the mother because she would prefer for the child to be given to the other woman than severed in two. After class, I went over to Akona and said the reason that I knew that the book was not his was because of this story in the bible where king Solomon….and he then smiled and intercepted the story and recited the entire thing. I was amazed at this 10 year old kid’s ability to relate a story he heard in church that most kids probably would forget right after listening to it to real life. I know that this does not confirm that he is going to become the president of the country, but I think it shows genuine intelligence and ability to merge different circumstances together to in a sense solve a problem and rely upon internal resources. While that may be a long shot I also just really wanted to tell you that story because it was the highlight of my week.

South African Ulpan:

Netball - volleyball

I don’t think any sentence is necessary for this one but I feel like it would be so strange to leave those two words in a section all by their lonesome when usually another sentence accompanies them. But I guess this unnecessary tangent accomplishes, at least aesthetically, so I deem this sufficient…

Cheers!

Israel..it was bound to come up sooner or later

2008-05-11T05:46:00.000-07:00

So now that Israel is officially on her way to becoming a senior citizen and getting movie ticket discounts and all of that fun stuff as of last week, I guess its time I start actually putting into words how being in South Africa has impacted my beliefs and feelings regarding the Holy Land. It is something I have subconsciously avoided because it is just one more thing that will most likely leave me frustrated, confused and torn. But I realize that it is a conversation of great importance because it ties so many things together and is one of the challenges that can reveal how much I have learned since being here.

Israel is a physical and spiritual location with a variety of dimensions of value that allows it to mean something different to all who care for her. For many, Israel is religiously important, for others its significance lies in its culture, history, spirituality or something else. Reflecting on the miracles that have occurred in order for Israel to have been established and sustained, I truly believe it exists in a dimension closer to heaven.

I have always viewed Israel as a central nucleus that links us to all those who live as Jews in the world, to all those who once lived as Jews, and to the Jews that have yet to be born. Its language is known in some capacity by people from all corners of the world, its flag is adorned with a symbol that penetrates not just the eye, but the soul, its anthem is a song that refers to millennia of history not just a few hundred years. For many it is a home one can feel welcomed by and safe within without even being physically present. I do not think there is any other place in the world that fits these criteria.

This is the lens that I think many observant Jews develop, through education, through communities, through discourse, through text. We are told to love Israel, we are told to live in Israel, we are told that Israel is our responsibility and our right, because of the value it holds to the Jewish nation and the divine textual evidence of our claim. We don’t grow up being exposed to the Palestinian population who lives in Israel with limited resources and opportunities. When we are, it seems that often these people are clumped together as a hindrance to the safety and maintenance of our homeland. Sometimes when we sympathize with the “other,” the “enemy,” we can be perceived as disloyal and unpatriotic (I realize that this is not the mentality of a significant percentage of people, but my experience has led me to believe that a large number of people seem to align with this way of thinking). So instead, when talking about Israel, we simply ignore the issue in many cases, because we are Jews, and the Torah grants us the land of Israel, and thus it is ours, no one else’s.

So many experiences in my life, especially my time in South Africa, have proven to me that the experiences of each person, each nation is their own, and that in order to understand how we function in the world, we need to recognize others’ entitlement to their own experiences. In Letty Cottin Pogrebin’s book Deborah, Golda and Me: Being Female and Jewish in America, she discusses her experiences as part of various dialogue groups involving Arab, Palestinian, Jewish and Israeli women. I remember one part of this book that resonated strongly in my mind was when she expresses the difficulty and stagnancy of these conversations. She conveys a great deal of frustration because no one will ever be able to convince the other side of their story, of their narrative, of their claim. There is no one truth. The truth of the Jewish people is at odds with the truth of the Palestinian people. Each group feels entitled to the land. Often, Jews understandably prioritize their claim above that of other people deeming it false. I have heard time and time again, well in the Torah it says…., and God promised us… How can we expect this vocabulary, this mentality to be understood by people who do not believe in the divinity of the Torah and the God portrayed within it? This is not just in reference to Palestinians, but anyone who does not align with this way of thinking. I do not believe that any one group has a monopoly on the truth, what I believe is not and does not have to be what someone else believes. We cannot expect people to give up their truth, in fact it is no one’s place to do so. Palestinians live in Israel, I personally do not think that we can ignore this reality; we cannot blindly discuss the wonders of Israel, the value we place on it as individuals and as a collective people without acknowledging that a population exists in the land of Israel with little access to necessary resources and positive national identity. While it seems as though being pro-Palestinian is often equated with anti-Israel and vice versa, I think that it is completely possible to love Israel and open our eyes to the circumstances of the Palestinians at the same time.

Much of this thought process has been impacted by South African perception of Israel as a moral pariah, as an oppressor, as the Apartheid regime that subjugated and dehumanized the majority of the population for so long. In the historical records of many of the southern African countries, the relationship between Israel and the Palestinians is often held up as the historical reference to explain the racist imperialists and the indigenous, downtrodden natives. In my mind, they have legitimate reason to. In the era when the international community put countless sanctions and pressure to disband Apartheid on the nationalist government, Israel financially supported SA. Perhaps there are reasons for doing so related to the desperate state of the Israeli economy, but in the eyes of black and coloured South Africans, they were indirectly contributing to their oppression. This may be why the word Apartheid has been used in describing the Israeli governmental actions regarding Palestinians. While I believe it is clear that this comparison is completely inappropriate, while I believe that the Israeli government has not institutionalized racism like the Nationalist government, but has taken certain necessary steps to defend itself, when it is possible to see the plight of a people through the eyes of personal horrible experience, the link is, not justifiable, but understandable.

It is a very difficult situation. But it is ok in my mind to acknowledge the suffering of others without betraying that which you feel loyal to. While I feel as though I have recognized the second-class conditions of Palestinians in the past, I think being here has added new dimensions to that recognition. Its easy to say that people are living in awful conditions and I feel bad for them, but when you see it, when you feel it around you, when 9 year old girls in townships meet you and their first question is if you have any kids, when one student gets picked on because his skin is a pigment darker than the others, when you are in a little vacation town where the only black people present are cleaning your dishes and serving your food, when you meet white teenagers applying to university and are bitter because they think all the black kids are going to steal their spots because of affirmative action (black economic empowerment is what its called here), when you see the townships on the side of the road that are a few square miles and house 500,000 people who live in shacks made out of cardboard and tin, all of your sense are awakened to the suffering of others, you become overcome by a helplessness that seems unfathomable, unfixable. To me, it is not possible to look at Israel as the home of the Jews without recognizing her responsibility to treat all those who live within the country well and respectfully. Being Jewish demands that of us. Yes, protective measures are incredibly necessary and there is a huge percentage of Palestinians, Arabs and others who do not recognize Israel’s right to exist and pose a huge threat to her future, but in my mind these obstacles only strengthen the need for Israel to extend its hand, its resources, its recognition of humanity to all to establish its identity as a moral light unto other nations.

Similarly, in a book I am currently reading by Alister Sparks called Beyond the Miracle: Inside the New South Africa (having put my interest in fiction aside for the sake of taking advantage of the non-fiction literature available to me here that will never be at my disposal again), the author discusses the unique position that South Africa has found itself in the world, and the potential it has to be a model for other nations and grand-scale interactions. It is a meeting point of the first and the third world, the rich and the poor, the light and the dark. Yet its uniqueness lies in the reality that, unlike most countries that possess this same dynamic, members of the third world are the ones who currently sit in power since the democratic transition 14 years ago. As a result, a new form of communication is taking place, a process of creating a new social order that accommodates both the capitalist and the traditionalist, the Afrikaner and the Zulu.

The hierarchy of the world has naturally placed development and capitalism at the top and tradition and rural living at the bottom. Every battle seems to be observed through the polarized lens of West and East, democracy and communism, good and evil. Drawing on other regions of unrest, Sparks discusses the dynamic of America’s war on terrorism and the hate that produced it. The vocabulary of evil, enemy and fundamentalism became so easy to rely upon. The civilized nations believed it their moral duty to destroy the medieval, religious terrorists without ever understanding the point of tension, the source of hatred. Without condoning any acts of terror or destruction, it seems that the Westernized way of thinking never swallows its pride to acknowledge the value of any other way of living and instead waves wealth and “democracy” in its face and demands its opponents to change their way of life. If they don’t that is in fact the very reason why the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. We never take the time to look inwardly, to see that perhaps our own tactics are at fault, or have made contributions to the problem. We never try to create forums of understanding between different worlds, we simply use higher status as rationale for invading, for missionizing, for murdering and for destroying.

In South Africa, Israel is the illegitimate result of an imperialist, British mandate, a result of the same process and way of thinking that granted sovereignty to the Afrikaner Nationalist party of South Africa, coincidentally in the same year, 1948. Thus it becomes clear which side of good and evil upon which Israel falls in the eyes of the oppressed. It also becomes easy to understand why people must always deem support of the Israelis and Palestinians as mutually exclusive. I do acknowledge that recognizing both plights is extremely difficult, especially when the survival of such an important place and nation is at stake, but I personally see so much potential in embracing the spectrum in between the evil and the good, the first and the third world (vocabulary which I am not sure is politically correct, but know that my intentions are politically correct). I don’t think that this mentality is a form of politics, but rather a responsibility as a human, as a Jew, to entitle each person to their own experience. It seems to me, that while they possess very different circumstances and realities, South Africa and Israel, both have an unprecedented opportunity to introduce a new form of communication, a new form of social order.

South African (Cultural) Ulpan:

Pudding – dessert course, such as cakes, mousses, fruit salads and even puddings. MMMM.

“Hey kids, its time for pudding,” said mom as they all jumped for joy and screamed “yippee.”

Cheers!

HELP!

2008-05-04T13:49:00.000-07:00

Wow! So the past four days have given me a lot to think about. From Thursday to Sunday night I traveled with a group of around 15 Jewish high school students from Cape Town along the southern coast of the country to different, small, Jewish communities. A friend of mine who works for an informal Jewish education organization connected to the Jewish school system invited me and another friend along for the road trip, and it seemed like a perfect opportunity to continue my sociological analysis of the Cape Town Jewish community. What I was left with after four days was a sociological study of religious communities in general and how an individual functions within it.

The first day we spent driving to the site that is occupied by the B’nei Akiva camp of South Africa during the summer month of December. While in America, observant Jewish teens have the luxury of deciding from a variety of different camps in different locations, this is the only option for observant Jewish South African teens. For the three weeks in December, it is occupied by around 1000 people in total who collectively make up the only observant, summer youth community in the country. A lot of the kids on the road trip spent there time reminiscing about their camp experiences which very much reflected the value placed on the environment the camp offers. It has become clear to me that in Cape Town, it is often necessary to sacrifice certain things that seem so standard and set within one’s life, to be observant. For example, because the amount of kids who are is so small, it seems that social opportunities are limited in many cases. But this camp creates a community that seems to make kids content with their observance, because it is the common denominator that brings them all together and allows them to feel connected to each other and their surroundings.

I have been fortunate enough to never feel like I have had to give anything up to be the type of Jew I wanted to be. My family, my friends, my school, my camp, everything, always seemed to not only accommodate the choices I made religiously but encouraged me to keep struggling with my identity. I have never had to be something at the expense of something else and for that I am so thankful. But it seems to me, that to be observant in Cape Town, forces young people to make sacrifices. I suppose that this is just one of the many realities of being a committed member of a small community.

This became glaringly clear as we traveled for the next few days to other various communities. On Friday, we found ourselves in a beautiful vacation area called Plettenberg Bay. I had actually been here once before a few months ago when traveling along the Garden Route, but found myself there this time in much different circumstances. We davened shacharit and ate breakfast with the small community of Plet in their new shul that is still in the process of being built. While we ate, a representative told us about the character of the community. While a few families live there all year round, it has become a popular vacation spot for religious families because a running shul has been in operation for over thirty years. The location had moved around to accommodate the size variation, but now that it is growing in membership, albeit temporary, the members, local, national and international, have collectively funded the building of a beautiful shul. While they may not always get a minyan in the off-season, the presence of the community has kick started the creation of a beautiful and vibrant collective at different times throughout the year. Every part of the shul itself has been funded by different families who align themselves with the congregation. Each pillar that holds up the shul, each not-yet-painted, stained-glass window, each plaque allocating the different aliyot and service honors, each book, is physical proof of the commitment of the community. The entirety of the shul is tangibly built upon the foundation of its individual members, subsequently creating something much larger and more significant. I realize that many shuls are built in this fashion, perhaps it is because it is in South Africa, perhaps it is because we observed this as a work in progress, or perhaps it is because I have chosen to analyze every possible thing laid out in front of me over the past three months, but something about this construction process, both figurative and physical, seemed unique.

After hearing about the Plet community, a high-school student from another small community nearby in Outdsoorn, came to speak about her community which has undergone a very different transformation. While it was once around 200 families strong (if I recall correctly), it is now a community of just a few families including just five kids. While it is a community that seems to be dwindling rather quickly, they still import kosher meat and bring in a Rabbi from Cape Town to conduct high holiday services. Yet it is clear, that a community once called “the Jerusalem of South Africa” has lost a great deal of its strength and sparkle.

After learning about these small, but beautiful communities, we continued to move further away from Cape Town and traveled to the city of Port Elizabeth. Warmly welcomed by the P.E. community, we stayed in the shul for the whole of Shabbat. Once a two building campus that could, and did, fit around 2000 people in its main sanctuary, the shul has recently sold the sanctuary which has been converted into an apartment complex, leaving only a large building which includes offices and meeting rooms, one of which has been turned into the sanctuary and probably sits less than 100 people, living quarters for the Rabbi and his family, and a large hall for simchas and communal events. The community has been shrinking gradually over the past decades due to members migrating outside of the city, Jews losing their connection and no new faces emerging to fill the vacancy. What is left of the shul is still quite disproportionately grand and seems to be a living monument to what the community once was. This is reflected in the reality that while many of the members are older and have probably been P.E. lifers, every two or three years, a new Rabbi is imported from Israel through the shlichut system, demonstrating a severe lack of local resources and the statistic that less than 20% of the students of the local Jewish Theodore Herzl school is actually Jewish. P.E., once a strong hub of Jewish life is fading fast.

It was so interesting to be exposed to all of this as a member of the Cape Town Jewish community as well as of the various communities of which I am a part in my normal life. While Jewish observance in Cape Town is visibly decreasing along with the passing of each generation, it is the five towns of New York in comparison to these others. Yet, simultaneously, the exposure presents a clear danger of what Cape Town could become if the loss of involved Jews continues at the rapid pace of today. On a grander scale, I kept thinking about how little I have ever been forced to think about the welfare and survival of an entire community in the different ones I occupy at home.

Over the past three years, I have experienced and continue to experience a process of religious transformation. This process has been extremely individual, almost selfish even. When I was angry at Orthodoxy for reasons such as unequal gender roles, stances on homosexuality, the limited vocabulary pertaining to God and the Torah, what I interpreted as narrow-mindedness regarding politics relating to Israel, I was able to step outside the framework of Orthodoxy because I had a family that supported and encouraged this process and because I attend a university that offers different religious outlets that allow the luxury of not needing to fully define yourself and commit to one, set group. I had all the resources available to undergo a personal makeover within a greater community that presented no danger that would have inspired me to understand my importance as an individual within the larger collective. My process has never included the realization that my choices and what I decided to become and dedicate myself to impacts a single community. But what if it did? If I knew that my allegiance mattered in ensuring the subsistence of the Jewish people in a specific location, what would I do, what sect of Judaism would I align with?

After having conversations both with myself and others about this topic, I arrived at the conclusion that beyond all of my personal issues with Orthodoxy, traditional Judaism in my mind, seems to be the foundation that has allowed this way of life to endure. History has proven that allowing wiggle room within practice and belief leads to a decrease in practicing Jews, while a traditional way of life is more likely to contribute to the maintenance of a system that has improbably lasted for mellenia. This is not to personally take importance and legitimacy away from any other sect because I truly believe that everyone needs to find their own spiritual home on their own terms, but I think that changes to tradition set a precedent for change that produces a dangerous slippery slope. It seems that all these emergent forms of Jewish practice and belief are in some form dependent on traditional Judaism to hold as a reference point. Without it, there is no basis for beliefs, for changes, for criticisms. While I can acknowledge the necessity of traditional Judaism, I am still very much at odds with certain aspects and tenets of Orthodoxy (often this may just be Orthodox people though). I cannot accept making individuals feel less than they are, I cannot accept any form of hierarchy and subsequent oppression. But is it my place to refuse to accept these things, do I even have the choice? If I believe that Judaism’s best chance to continue is within a traditional framework then the choices I have made to exist somewhat on the periphery of it can be interpreted as flat and hypocritical. Essentially, what I interpret as my beliefs and my responsibilities are at odds with each other.

Next year, I will be writing my senior thesis using the following question as my starting point in forming an educated understanding of the relationship between individual development and communal structure: How is individual difference reconciled within the context of a community? This question popped into my head several times throughout the trip and is something I cannot get off my mind. Who am I ultimately responsible for, myself or my community? I am sure that it is possible for their not be a tension between the two, but right now that tension seems immovable (I know I have time to figure this out, sorry if I seem dramatic). Can I fit my beliefs, my issues, into a completely traditional framework? Or can I justify my decision to not be a part of a community that I think must exist, but of which I do not want to be a complete member?

Over the past year I have described myself as not fully respecting the halachic system. As a result, I have not felt the need to hold to such seemingly insignificant laws such as keeping the eruv or not tearing toilet paper on Shabbat, I have started eating dairy out, I daven when I feel like it, I have learned to read Torah and participate in egalitarian services (I am not putting all these things on the same plane because I do feel as though the last has increased my level observance, but I just want to communicate the different ways I have exited the halachic framework). I have done things my own way based on what personally inspires me because I do not think that the whole “because God said so” or “our purpose in life is to do mitsvos (normally I say mitsvot, but I wanted to add an element of authenticity to this context)” mentality is sufficient. But maybe there is a way to bring all of these things together. Maybe I can operate within a traditional framework by thinking that each law serves the purpose of reminding us as Jews of our commitment to God, to the Torah and ultimately to being better versions of ourselves and sharing that goodness with the world. But even with that said, I still do not fully know if I believe in the complete divinity of the Torah or in the understanding of God that is preached in our prayers. If this is the case then, if I return to the halachic framework, would my motivation be completely communal? And if it is and my issues do not disappear, than is this a community and a belief system whose subsistence I feel the need to contribute to? I am quite confused...(you might be too..sorry).

Last Thursday was Mayday, International Workers Day (an international holiday everywhere except the U.S. because we are elitists with an ignorant fear of anything remotely related to communism) as well as Yom Hashoah. While these are rather different commemorations, I think they both demonstrate the importance of community and unity in very different ways. Mayday is proof of the power of togetherness and what can happen when the downtrodden fight for the rights; Yom Hashoah reflects the necessity to always feel connected to your history and those who share it to prevent the repetition of past atrocities. My classes dealing with poverty and ways of confronting it as well as the complex and beautiful archaeological past of strong Iron Age African communities, reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, which recounts the beautiful, mythical history of the creation and destruction of a town called Macondo, also demonstrate the need for community and personal responsibility within it. I have had so many outlets recently that have taught me that ultimately we are responsible for each other and we must do what we feel necessary to ensure our collective welfare. But what is welfare? Is it communal survival, or is it what is specifically being sustained? I don’t know. What do you think?

South African (cultural) Ulpan:

Crunchies – some sort of wonderful, magical concoction of granola-ey stuff, coconut-ey flavor, something unknown that creates a wonderful soft texture of a snack that would seem to be hard, that tastes so amazing, like rainbows and daisies.

Cheers!

Yay Bread!!

2008-04-28T10:14:00.000-07:00

While I surprisingly did not get completely tired of matza I have to say I am quite excited to start eating a little more than tuna, tomatoes and our bread of affliction. The remaining days of my pesach celebration were spent at the house of a friend's family in Rondebosch which is a really nice suburb close to where I live. We successfully spent the weekend continuing to discuss the relevant topics that one is supposed to speak about during this time. The constant connections made between the exodus from Egypt and liberation struggle of apartheid South Africa and its remnants have really forced me to forge links between two completely different histories and people. I believe that the dimensions added onto this holiday have helped me understand how to merge my Judaism with how the history of South Africa can be relevant to my life. I think that understanding the suffering and oppression of one people or situation within the context of a different one that includes these two things can humanize and shed light upon each. Both stories create a larger framework for comprehending what we all deserve as humans regardless of our titles and loyalties, because that is our ultimate distinction; being human connects us all to one another and establishes a mutual responsibility for each other.

Ultimately, I think that the slavery of and exodus from Egypt are not vague memories that we must acclimate ourselves with every year, but rather a reality that continues to present itself in various regions. We only have to open our eyes to the unfathomable horrors and simultaneous glimmers of hope that continue to emerge manifest in the contemporary histories of others; for example the continued recalcitrance of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe that has undermined a supposed democratic process that voted him and his oppressive, corrupt ZANU-PF government out of office. It is quite clear to me that he continues to in effect mimic the egoism and cruelty of Pharoh through his contemporary translation of “no I will not yet your people go.” Exodus is not only a keystone of the past but a necessary emergence in our future. By our, I mean that we cannot distance ourselves from the suffering of others, because continued oppression lurks everywhere and deems everyone vulnerable, and thus we are not free until all members of humanity are.

I think that the reason why these various oppressions are able to take form and produce such uneven hierarchies is rooted in an idea that I learned in my awesome archeology class last week. When Iron Age societies in sub-Saharan Africa were infiltrated by new peoples there was a pattern of dynamics that would follow this new reality, this new interaction between those who inhabited the land, the first-comers, and those who settled in the same areas later and integrated into the cultures of these first-comers; these groups were referred to as the new-comers. The new-comers would initially hold fast to their own beliefs and practices while simultaneously submitting to the governance and spiritual connections of the first-comers in their own territory. But as time would elapse, the new-comers would introduce their ways into the cultures that were present before they lived in the area. Soon they would begin to influence the first-comers and convince them that their technologies, norms and practices were superior, were more civilized. The new-comers would begin to take over the power structures of the cultures by claiming their superiority and their civilized contributions to the people and the land. They would no longer allow the way of life of the first-comers to hold any value among the merged populations and started to see themselves as the true inhabitants of the land. Soon the culture of the first-comers would dissipate and the remnants of it, whether existing in tradition or people, would move down the cultural ladder. Then a new people would move into the land recreating the process and deeming themselves the new-comers and the initial new-comers the first comers. This progression seems to me to be the original imperialism that has become more complex and multifaceted and continues to plague the world on a grander scale, for it has and will remain a justification for oppression and the establishment of hierarchies of belief and practice. It seems the vertical nature of social relations has been in existence for quite some time and that the need for a paradigm shift to horizontal relationships has been just as necessary in the past as it is today.

Since being here, I have been so blessed to have exposure to different topics in my classes and different ways of thinking that have all allowed me to fuse different worlds together and learn about them individually and also as a collective reality. Through archeology, the history of Southern Africa, the existence of global poverty and development, volunteer opportunities and exposure to the Jewish community, I feel as though I have activated a new passion for understanding the world around me through facts and hands-on experience and not just observing from a distance, which is a reference to the sociological lens I so often employed prior to this new life. If you have not noticed, one of the main outlets that have facilitate this process has been reading, specifically finding refuge in works of non-fiction. I find that reading is an amazing way to bring words and ideas to life within the physical world around me. As a result, I have often found that my taste in books is limited and does not include fiction, and I have often voiced this preference. Well, this past yom tov, this unwarranted hierarchy within my own life was broken down. The friend whose family I stayed with opened up a new world to me in the form of books about things that have never happened but are still profoundly relevant to reality.

My introduction to fiction came in the form of Ernest Hemmingway’s short classic The old Man and the Sea. The book was quite easy to read and seemed to have quite a simple plot. Old fisherman seeks to legitimize his life by catching the fish he had always hoped for. Yet the complex, but effortless naturalness of the old man’s thoughts mixed in with the development of the love-hate relationship with his prized fish during his journey adds new meaning and uniqueness to such a bare narrative. As my friend explained to me, the magic of fiction lies in its ability to elevate such simplicity, to take normal events, characters and circumstances as a collective entity and transform them into something greater than what it is, something extraordinary. Yet it is not unrealistic to think that the wonders of the completeness of the story are present in the simple parts of our own lives; it is not unrealistic to think that the hard-to-decipher, bittersweet ending would come about from such a routine fishing trip (or whatever that may be representative of in our own experiences). Life is complicated, the relevance and significance we attach to the situations that construct our identities are real and literature that never happened can help us filter them out and help us place the purpose of our various experiences in the larger framework of our lives. I feel as though my experience in South Africa is true proof of this.

Stories like this can teach us so much about humanity and situations that can be metaphors for those we experience in our own lives. This was insightfully articulated by my friend's little sister as she announced a quote from a different work of fiction, “history is a lived novel while a novel is history not yet lived” (or something like that). I think that fiction can be as helpful and relevant as non-fiction because it teaches us about the realities of the human state and how we function in normal as well as abnormal situations. It pulls significance and worth out of places in which one would never think to look for these things. I am quite excited to continue to develop my relationship with fiction and find new ways to relate it to the realities of the word. Next up: Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s classic One Hundred Years of Solitude. Don’t worry though, I still plan on reading plenty of ‘lived novels;’ I just want to mix things up a bit.

Just to once again reassure you that I do not sit locked up in my room reading and doing homework, I continue to travel around Cape Town and build relationships, it just seems to me that the adventures of my mind are easier to articulate in a way that might be interesting because, in my mind, they fuse all of the individual experiences i had had into something greater, something that i hope will continue to impact my life far beyond leaving Cape Town in mid-June.

South African (cultural) Ulpan:

Biltong – noun – a dry jerky that can be made from a variety of animal meats (beef, buffalo, springbok, antelope etc.) loved by citizens of south African culture

When Josiah became a vegetarian, it was quite difficult for him to give up his beloved biltong..I don't know how necessary that sentence was but I really wanted to use the name Josaih.

Enjoy your leavened products. Cheers!

Who knows one?

2008-04-22T06:37:00.000-07:00

Chag Sameach everyone! I hope that the first few days of the best holiday ever were meaningful and tasty for all. Though I missed my family seders dearly and often wondered how they were going (though the time difference made this a little tricky), I definitely would use those two words to describe my Pesach experience thus far. I spent a fantastic Shabbat and first days of yom tov at a friend’s family’s house in the Cape Town suburb of Constantia. The area was much more calming and quiet than most of the places I have seen within the city limits which was very conducive to immersing myself in food, song, great company and conversation, plenty of data to add to my sociological study of the Cape Town Jewish community and an internal struggle with the concept of freedom.

Because the crux of Pesach is the telling and remembering of the story of the exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt, I constantly found myself connecting how this history fits into my individual as well as collective identity as a Jew to the countless layers of oppression, liberation and continued inequality in South Africa (while I know that the two are not quantitatively comparable, I am not trying to equate a Jewish memory with the contemporary suffering that occurred and still remains in South Africa, but I do think that linking these two experiences sheds a great deal of light upon what freedom is and how essential it is to the well being of both the individual and the community). Touching on my last post I believe that the ideals preached in Black Theology are completely relevant in grasping the significance of national liberation and how that contributes to this indescribably important process of value and identity formation. Yetziat Mitzrayim was the starting point of the development of the Jewish nation. It was not until we were freed from the shackles of Egyptian slavery that we were fully able to begin the process of discovering what it meant to be Jewish, to determine our own selves and understand how that connected us to those who classified themselves in the same category. When one is enslaved, they are unable to direct the course of their own life, they are unable to make decisions of what they value and in turn how to transform that value into action, into a positive contribution to the world and people around them. Being slaves in Egypt denied the Jewish people this process, for they were slaves to a system that forced them to remain at the bottom of society and refused them the capacity to rise above their circumstances.

Freedom is often seen as lack of constraints, lack of rules and restrictions – chofesh (reference to last post). But it seems as though, when analyzing systems of oppression, that freedom offers something more than destroying restriction, it offers the opportunity to discover a true self that was suppressed for so long because one’s routine and simple needs were defined by the oppressor. When one is hungry and tired from hours, weeks, years of demanding, manual labor and dehumanization, it is difficult to consider intangible concepts of faith and loyalty; one focuses on what they need to physically get them through the day. This oppression creates a constant tie to the physical and a constant obstruction to the consideration of what exists beyond the physical. Freedom is thus the channel that provides the oppressed with the ability to begin the process of entering that new realm.

The freedom discussed in the story of the exodus from Egypt (referred to in the Hagaddah as cherut) provided the Jewish people with the ability to realize their potential as humans and to start developing a significant, national identity; one of uniqueness, one loyalty to a new leader who actually had the best interests of the Jewish people in mind, one of pride and one of trying to rise above the experienced evils of the world. This was not a freedom from rules, instead it was a commitment to a completely new set of rules, to a new life of uncertainly and instability that did not provide this budding people with an identifiable homeland for four decades. Freedom was not easy, rather it was a trying struggle of pain, of mistakes, of new constraints, but it provided the Jewish people with the circumstances and capacity to develop into a nation expected to be better than others, expected to understand the human plight and the negative ramifications of an oppressive hierarchy.

The conversations and conglomeration of comments made that surrounded this topic confirmed for me the colossal significance of liberation in defining a people as well as the relationship between that people and the god, the force that produced it. I started to think that each facet of my relationship with God was some sort of freedom, a collection of mini-liberations that do not make life easier, but rather push me to reach my potential and be the best version of myself. The Jewish people are the people of God because of this process and that is why Pesach is celebrated and commemorated, that is why this story is one of the most important pieces of the puzzle that makes up the Jewish nation.

Interestingly as I thought about how this liberation impacted my own vicarious liberation experience I started to think about how perhaps, in reality, Black Theology could be used to describe the Pesach story more accurately than it could be in its actual context, the liberation struggle of South Africa. While Black Theology was such an important ideology in empowering members of the Black Consciousness Movement to sincerely take pride in their black identity and in the righteousness of their struggle, I think that liberation was a man-made struggle and success that included a human strength missing from the liberation of the Jewish people from Egypt. Apartheid oppression belittled the humanity of those without white skin, yet the presence of this spiritual ideology, along with many other strong positive forces of influence within the liberation movement, provided the oppressed with a sense of hope, a sense of identity and a sense of power, three things that the Nationalist government tried so hard to take away. The oppressed South Africans created their own freedom through developing solidarity and meaning, while the shackles of the Jewish people are said to have been loosened by a distant force separate from them. While one could title Moshe a freedom fighter (again, I am not equating the two stories simply linking their narratives of freedom), it seems as though his status as such was only a product of God pushing him to take on the role.

When learning about the character of Moshe, I have often been told that his humility, his reluctance to accept such a significant leadership role was one of his greatest attributes. After drawing comparisons to the liberation struggle of South Africa, it seems to me that true freedom is very much dependent upon a person’s self confidence in their abilities and their actions that in my opinion does reflect a level of unmatched selflessness and commitment to a community in need. All of the freedom fighters I have learned about exuded this quality and I feel as though it is a necessity lacking from the exodus from Egypt. I suppose God’s role in the latter is much more obvious and active, but it almost makes it seem as though human beings cannot empower themselves to bring about their own freedom.

If freedom, cherut, is being provided with the capacity to realize your potential it would seem conducive to that process if individuals had an active role in their liberation and started to build up that strength, that identity through the process of destroying the oppressor. While I continue to acknowledge the apples-and-oranges character of this comparison, I find myself disappointed in the lack of human action in the story of yetziat mitzrayim. We constantly talk about being the lowest of the low and not understanding our own power in relationship to slavery, but the conditions of Apartheid South Africa seem to provide a very similar reality, yet remarkable leaders emerged to spawn their own liberation.

I still strongly believe in the great significance of liberation and how that process defines who we are as Jews, but I feel as though if there was an emphasis placed on human action that perhaps it could have led to a more stable national existence. Yes, God is the nucleus, and many believe that our success and identity is inherently intertwined with our faith in God, but it seems to me that the power of the individual, of the community is sacrificed in order to glorify all that God has done for us, all without which we would be lost and unidentifiable. But I think that this action and strength of self can also be woven into our relationship with God. Going back to the idea that we are all made in God’s image, it seems to me that we can pinpoint the strength of the South African freedom fighters, and all those who have bravely fought for their own community’s liberation, and link that strength to all of the wonderful characteristics instilled within us to the idea of emulating God.

I have started to see so many different situations within the context of freedom since…umm…yesterday I guess. In all of my classes this morning I kept thinking about how poverty as a simultaneous inherent attribute and byproduct of a capitalistic social structure, the patriarchal belittlement (I did not know this was a word until I just typed it, that’s so exciting!) of women in the varnasramadharma framework of traditional Hinduism, the heated archaeological debates surrounding the development or lack their of of hunter-gatherers in the Kalahari desert, the amazing stories of freedom fighter resistance on Robben Island all directly relate to freedom and the restrictions placed on one’s identity when they are deprived of it. Freedom and lack of freedom are what define our circumstances. When we are free to determine our own experiences and faiths, when we are free from worrying about providing the bare necessities for our families, we possess the capacity to understand who we are and what we want to be. We even have the capacity to get from the former to the latter. We must be aware of the countless manifestations of freedom and more importantly the circumstances that beg for it. As a Jew, I feel more compelled to make up for the human action lacking in the story we continue to relive for the next few days and take it upon myself to truly understand what it means to treat others well, for we were once “others” in Egypt, for we were once unable to define our freedom and ourselves in general. To me, that idea seems so relevant to so many other aspects of our being. If we translate this history into our situations and relationships we are acknowledging the countless troubles of the world and at the same time continuing to understand our own identities in a way that will allow us to confront them more constructively and sensitively.

Wow that unnecessary pretentious preaching seems to be creeping in again….

South African Ulpan:

Robot – noun – traffic light

When the robot turned red Prunella stopped the car.

Enjoy your wonderful pesadic treats while I eat matza and tuna for the rest of the chag! Cheers!

A few new religious ideas to consider..

2008-04-14T08:37:00.000-07:00

Greetings from the Southern hemisphere! Today, the all stars of Liberation in Southern Africa made an appearance in the form of Peter Jones, a prominent leader of the Black Consciousness Movement in the 1970's. Once again, I was truly awed by the amount of pride and dignity that he conveyed. Listening to all of these leaders of the liberation struggle has really proven to me the power of ideas, the power of action and the power of a desire to do what is right and just for all, especially those who do not recognize the power of their own voices. He discussed the formation and the actions of the BCM and his own experience and through it all conveyed an appreciation of his minority identity that must have been so difficult to uphold in the face of such blatant and cruel dehumanization. That, in my mind, was the most amazing thing about Black Consciousness, it was centered around the self and how the individual has the power to free themselves from the shackles of white oppression that continue to deem them not good enough. It was an ideology that gave power to those deemed powerless. While all facets and efforts of the liberation struggle were necessary and unfathomably brave, I think that the reconstruction of a positive self image in the face of severe degradation was one of the most important feats in the era of Apartheid.

Insensitively moving on to the privileges of my life and opportunities in South Africa... Shabbat was quite fun and interesting. A friend and I stayed at the house of a young couple hosting a Shabbaton for 13 sixth grade girls. Again, I was amazed at the amount of effort and creativity constantly present within the Cape Town Jewish community in attempts to cultivate a sense of Jewish pride and knowledge. I do not know how many of these kids have weekly Shabbat experiences at home, but they seemed to really enjoy the Shabbaton. Expressing my Judaism and taking pride in that identity and has always been so easy for me and I think I am starting to realize how for most Jews, it is difficult to want to be Jewish when it leads to losing, to sacrificing something else. It is so much easier to take pride in your existence as a Jew when you are provided with opportunities that make you want to be Jewish and express whatever that means to you. I thankfully never had to say “oh I had to do X when everyone else got to do Y.” For most kids, if this is reality, it is going to be hard to find the value in X over Y. But when settings and programs are established where X becomes the Y, where being Jewish gives you access to places and people you didn’t have before as well as the value and wonder of what it is to be Jewish and have that characteristic connect you to other amazing people, then this can produce a significant gain rather than a frustrating sacrifice. All of the amazing people, programs and organizations in the Cape Town community really seem to be trying to make the X into the Y and show that appreciating your Judaism can be because of how much you benefit from it and not despite what you are missing.

On the subject of appreciating religion, I don’t know how many of you have ever learned about Buddhism, but it is the focus of my Religion, Sexuality and Gender class last week and this week and it happens to be extremely interesting. I think the reason I have become so intrigued by it is because all of the religions I have learned about and been exposed to until now all fit within the same Western, monotheistic framework. Even though Judaism (which is my reference point if you have not yet realized) is quite different from Christianity and Islam, they are centrally focused on the idea of one God, a biblical text and the process of authoritative interpretation that succeeded it, messianic afterlife, rituals, historical prophets etc etc. But Buddhism does not possess any of these things. It is more a state of being that a religion in the way we understand it. We all exist within a ring of samsara which is suffering. This does not necessarily refer to physical pain but rather meaninglessness and emptiness which at times can take on a physical form. The reality we live in has produced a dichotomy between happiness and sadness but all of the constructions of the world reside in the ring of samsara. Things cannot make us happy or determine our success, rather we must identify and destroy the three poisons of the world upon whose axis the wheel of suffering stands upon, greed (desire), ignorance and hatred with wisdom and compassion. The ideal then becomes living an ascetic existence in the mountains or the forest and ridding yourself of desire for physicality outside of the self. By focusing on the attainment of the two things that have the power to reverse the wheel of samsara and arrive at enlightenment, nirvana, one must employ wisdom and compassion which can be attained through the teachings of the Buddha who is the father figure of Buddhism but not a god. Gods in Buddhism exist but they are not transcendent, eternal or superior to humans, instead it is best to be human for then you have the capacity to search for salvation. All of the other forms of existence do not possess the same drive for salvation and thus humanity is the summit of being. When the cycle of reincarnation happens over and over, being born a human is perceived as a reward for righteousness in the previous life. (I may be mixing some of these concepts up so do not take this as an actual explanation of some of the primary Buddhist ideas)

The idea of reincarnation in Buddhism is extremely interesting because it is the foundation of wisdom and compassion, the two tools of salvation. Because each person is perceived to have lived countless previous lives, it is believed in Buddhism that each being was once the brother, father, sister, mother, dog of every other person and as a result we are all interconnected. There is no focus on the individual but rather the fullness of the world. While I do not necessarily believe in reincarnation I think that this idea has really infiltrated my thought process. I think it is quite similar to the belief of b’tzelem elokim, that we are all created in God’s image. While I am aware Buddhism does not introduce a god like the God of Judaism, I think that the larger force of each belief system and way of life can be used as a means to see ourselves in others and to feel responsible for their well being as a result.

Another belief system that I have recently been introduced to that I find so interesting and have tried to connect to different Jewish ideas is black theology; an ideology created in the time of the civil rights movement to empower black people within a Christian context adopted by many of the leaders of South Africa’s Black Consciousness Movement. The basis of black theology was that whites monopolized Christianity and created a religion that could not be followed by people who were being oppressed in its name. Instead, one of the fathers of black theology, James Cone, wrote that god is a force that can only be associated with the oppressed since revelation of god can only take place in liberation. He said that it is not possible for persecution to be religiously justified, but rather that god has always been associated with those who are fighting persecution. As a result, the Christian god must therefore be a black god, for god cannot be associated with the oppressor, but rather he or she who is being oppressed.

Simultaneously though, in black theology the human being can only be free if they are one of the oppressed. Only then is there mind at odds with the norms of a tyrannical society and understands that the world can and needs to be better. For those who have the luxuries of support from this system, they are incapable of understanding what is wrong with the world and thus remain imprisoned in their minds. This idea reminded me a great deal, going way way back, to the discussion of the two kinds of freedom in Judaism, chofesh - a freedom from restriction, and cherut - a freedom of consciousness, a freedom to understand the world and elevate the mundane through laws and beliefs that facilitate this process. Black theology seems to present a version of cherut, a freedom that is not easy to attain or in many cases is not actually desired but it leads to a greater understanding of the self, how one relates to others and why such interactions are so valuable.

I found these ideas to be extremely reflective of Judaism especially as we approach Pesach. I keep hearing d’var torahs about how this is the most important, most observed holiday because that which we are commemorating, ye’ztiat mitsraim (our freedom from Egypt), is one of the defining events in the history for the Jewish people. So often in prayers and in the Torah, this event is referred to in describing God (God who took you out of Egypt). This is what led to receiving the Torah and to receiving our own land, this liberation from slavery and oppression is what produced the development of Jewish life, belief and culture. Today, it can also be seen, according to my favorite Rabbi of my favorite shul in Cape Town (in his Friday night sermon), as an opportunity to not only clean ours houses of chametz, but rid ourselves of the “filth” within us, the situations in which we have not treated others well, the times when we have spoken badly about another; it is a time to free ourselves of all that restricts us from being the best versions of ourselves. Pesach is our freedom as a people as well as a blueprint that teaches us how to function within that freedom as an individual. The source of our communal liberation and our individual understanding of how to be certain that all those around us never feel as though our actions and words put shackles upon others in our lives is God. This God could never be one that supports hatred and human hierarchy, one that is used to justify persecution. I believe that the God who took the Jews out of Egypt is the same as the God who frees other groups of their oppression. I agree with James Cone that when that process occurs, then God is revered, believed in, loved and feared; freedom is the defining moment in the relationship between a God and those who follow that God.

I really think that we can learn so much from learning about other religions, belief systems and cultures. For me, doing so has often complemented my Judaism rather than opposing it. While at times different ideas have made me question various Jewish tenets, I believe that engaging in these debates in my mind have made my faith and understanding stronger.

South African Ulpan, you get two!

widget - noun - widge-et - a remote

soapy (this might not be the correct spelling) - noun - soap-ee - soap opera

Sally and Jirard fought over the widget as Sally watched the rugby match and Jirard desperately wanted to regain power and watch his favorite soapy.

Happy Pesach cleaning! Cheers!

What would you have done?

2008-04-09T04:25:00.000-07:00

Hi again! Ok so new development in my life...I have abruptly decided to run for hillel elections at Brandeis for the coming year. The idea was presented to me quite last minute but I am really happy with this decision. I am running for the campus relations coordinator. The person who fills this role is the liaison between hillel and other campus groups which is quite a vague description and as a result the person can really make the position into what they want and in a sense define their own goals. If I am elected, I think it would be a great opportunity to put into practice so much of what I have learned over the past few years both at Brandeis and abroad. Plus I need some non-Jewish friends at Brandeis and as much as I have tried to find some, it has taken me until going to South Africa to actually speak and have relationships with “members of different tribes.” I really am excited at the prospect of having an official opportunity to connect with different clubs, members of the administration, religious groups within the context of the hillel community because it can truly demonstrate the value that lies in these kinds of diverse interactions and how much we can learn about our own beliefs through learning about those belonging to others. Elections are on Sunday, so we will see…oh and for those five of you who read this who go to Brandeis and can vote, I’ll give you candy if you vote for me.

Moving on…So after finishing Desmond Tutu's book “No Future Without Forgiveness” about South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which I have discussed in previous blog posts, I have been thinking a lot about the concept of forgiveness. While the book was extremely inspiring and the idea of forgiveness amidst the horrors of apartheid through revealing narratives that connote accepted responsibility on the part of the perpetrator and returned dignity in the case of the victims, I do not know if I personally think that forgiveness is deserved or warranted. Yes, I understood throughout the book Tutu pinpoints the apartheid system as the true criminal, and that is what was put on trial by the Commission through the stories of those involved, but how can people be legally absolved of their crimes committed against those not alive to grant the absolution?

I recently also read a different book that Tutu mentioned within his own writing by Simon Weisenthal called "The Sunflower," that seems to confront this question head on through the lens of the Holocaust. The book is split up into two sections. The first is a semi-autobiographical account of a Jewish prisoner who finds himself at the bedside of a dying SS officer. The officer has hours left to live and feels tortured by the guilt of his terrible crimes as a member of the Nazi regime. He calls upon a random Jew to disclose his up until then unspeakable acts of murder to and proceeds to ask the tortured, dehumanized prisoner still in the midst of the hell of persecution and execution of the Holocaust if he would forgive the officer for his crimes on behalf of those whom he murdered. After hearing the officer pour out his soul, the author walks out of the hospital room in silence, never responding to the dying man's plea.

Weisenthal than poses the question to various prominent world figures "what would you have done?" The second part of the book is an anthology of responses that these people sent back to Weisenthal. It was extremely interesting to read such a diverse group of understandings of what forgiveness is and how it should and should not be utilized. Most of the responses raise the issue of not being able to grant forgiveness for crimes not committed against you. This is an idea that spoke loudly to me and as a result made me question the aims of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. If you are faced with the heart-wrenching decision to grant or not to grant forgiveness to someone who committed an awful act directly against you, I would imagine the situation to be extremely difficult because in your heart the pain and destruction it caused will continue to impact your life in negative ways, some which you will never even be able to link back to the source. So how is forgiveness tenable? How is it possible to tell the person who caused so much horror that while they will always be held responsible for it, that they can now distance themselves from the guilt of acknowledging that he or she caused terrors that will never leave the victim? It seems to produce a permanent punishment for the victim but only a temporary one for the perpetrator…where is the justice in that? Where is the restored humanity for the victim when it is on their shoulders to offer that to the person who dehumanized them or others who suffered similar, terrifying conditions?

In reading so many wonderful accounts I came to two conclusions, one of which is borrowed. One of the responses discussed that the word forgiveness is used too loosely in this context. To completely forgive someone for torture, pain and the countless ripple effects of suffering is not feasible. There is no way that the author of "The Sunflower" could have ever been cleansed of the indelible effects of such horror. The title of the book comes from the author's experience of walking through a Nazi military cemetery and seeing that each officer's grave was adorned with a sunflower, a symbol of respect and honor, a symbol that his death was acknowledged and mourned. Weisenthal writes in anguish about the millions of murdered men, women and children whose bodies and minds were mutilated and murdered without concern or remorse and whose corpses were than carelessly piled atop each other to rot and be forgotten. These countless souls will never be acknowledged, they will never be individually mourned, and they will never have a sunflower rest atop their beaten, forgotten bodies. The psychological ramifications of such terrible circumstances are endless, thus forgiveness, absolution is not a legitimate option. Instead the response says that what the author could have offered to this officer was an understanding that he personally felt a great deal of regret and never wanted to be a killer but was forced to become one because of the corrupt, appalling system of which he was a part. I really appreciated this distinction because up until then it seemed as though their were only two options, to forgive the man which implies a sense of complete absolution, or walk away in silence without putting the dying officer’s mind at ease. But this alternative, acknowledging the negative ramifications that the officer’s actions had on himself suggests a middle ground of some sort, a balance of shared humanity and accepted responsibility. If this action had been taken, perhaps the author could have given the dying man hope that he could have been a better person if not for the circumstances.

The second conclusion that I came too (and this is a fusion of some ideas mentioned in some of the responses mixed with my own response) is that forgiveness gives too much power (and in my mind, not the good kind) to the forgiver. Did this officer think that by telling someone who was not even his victim but simply a person who shared the same hated identity as his victims that he could be absolved? Did he think that this one man could speak on behalf of each person persecuted, executed or dehumanized? The author does not fully know what the intent of the officer was in asking him for forgiveness, but it is clear that being granted such by a random Jew still in the midst of the horror to which he contributed would some how offer him a little comfort before he would meet his death. But I think that forgiveness is more an internal experience than it is an external one, it must take place within before it can take place in the outside world. If this officer was in such desperate need of absolution from a random Jewish man who he unintentionally and carelessly tormented for the rest of his life due to his continued doubts regarding his decision, to me it seemed clear that even if forgiveness had been granted, it would not have helped, for this dying officer did not forgive himself.

I have learned (I forget what the source of this is) that true repentance of a sin can only occur when a person finds him or herself in the exact same situation in which the sin took place and decides to not commit the same mistake. In Hebrew the root of the word for repentance means to return and to me it seems that this is the reason (I also think I learned that somewhere). This man was on his deathbed tormented by thoughts of what would meet him upon his exit from the material world. Would he have felt the same guilt and agony had he not been in that same situation, had he been well enough to continue his job as a member of the Nazi regime? This story points out what I see as a kept difference between the concept of forgiveness and the concept of repentance. Forgiveness is rather passive on the part of he or she who wishes to be forgiven while repentance is forgiveness in its most active form, especially when employing this interpretation of it. It seems that while absolution will never be an option because the crime can never be undone, self-improvement is quantifiable through actively not committing the same transgression twice. On the other side of all of this I think that the above-mentioned idea of understanding can than be active forgiveness on the part of the victim, for they are acknowledging the capacity for improvement that their perpetrator may possess. If you have any thoughts or responses to this topic I would love to hear them!

Wow, reading this post, you would not even know I was in South Africa. Well I promise I am still here, I guess its just that recently my adventures have been more mental than physical. But life here I assure you continues to challenge, amaze and inspire me.

South African Ulpan

Is it? – phrase – pronounced is it? – really?!!

Delilah asked Carlton “Are you a democrat or republican?” Carlton responded “ “republican” to which Delilah replied “is it? But you are a vegetarian.”

I hope my example sentence did not offend anyone...Cheers!

Women and Judaism...you knew it was coming

2008-04-03T11:06:00.000-07:00

Hello friends! So I have voluntarily decided to enter the required abroad funk. Don’t be worried, this is a decision I have come to on my own. You see, as is proven by the chart handed to all adventurers at Brandeis’s pre-abroad orientation that maps the emotions of those within this category during their semester abroad, after, euphoria, panic, initial adjustment into your new culture, situation and population, a lull occurs in which each adventurer becomes bored of the not-so-new culture, situation and population and crave novelty once more, the novelty that welcomed them in the beginning of the experience. The chart sadly did not say how long this period would last, but that soon, you adjust once more and appreciate the new life you are living as just that without having the expectations appropriate for say, a tourist. Well I have taken the liberty to decide that this lull will last one and half weeks, from this past Monday until next Friday. Now is perfect timing to accept this lull in stride for a few reasons. First, last week’s safari was a wonderful experience that left me craving more animals and more traveling instead of returning to classes (though I love classes). Second, my phone was “stolen” (or lost, one or the other, but I choose to say stolen because then that counts as the one bad thing that is due to occur during my time in South Africa) which has forced me to get a new one and hunt the numbers of my friends down which has made it difficult to fully be in touch with everyone and has subsequently limited my activity opportunities. Third, the school system both in Khayalitcha and Kensington has a 3 week long Easter break and as a result, volunteering will not resume until April 14^th which leaves two afternoons a week with nothing scheduled. On top of that African dance class was canceled this week leaving me with additional free time. Fourth, by next Friday, I will have pesach to look forward to in a week from then which I am very excited for. Fifth, if the lull is inevitable, I want to be the one to define the terms by which it arrives so as to limit the amount of damage it does to my experience. I figure I am halfway through my semester abroad so it is perfect timing because once it passes, I will have so much more time to fully enjoy my circumstances without having to worry. So don’t worry about me, ok? I am in control.

Within my lull, I have spent a great deal of time in the UCT library getting a head start on reading for a paper that is due in two months. For my Liberation in Southern Africa class research paper, I have chosen to compare the religious ideologies of the leaders of the Black Consciousness Movement in South Africa to those of the leaders on America’s Black Power Movement and discuss how these ideas impacted the tactics used in each movement. So this week I have read Malcolm X’s autobiography and various articles about the BPM in preparation. I am so excited to write this paper I cannot even tell you. I feel like by the time I start writing it I will know so much about the topics. I am also really going to enjoy the opportunity to connect everything that I have been learning about South Africa and subsequently the connection I feel toward it, to America, the country I actually live in, the country whose racial issues and tensions I have never really bothered to analyze but were always right in front of me. I am really happy that this whole experience is offering me so many things that will make my experience when I get back to the states better and more meaningful.

Anyway I have a funny story to share. The first is that this week we have been learning in my Liberation in Southern Africa class about Angola’s liberation struggle because it is very much related to that of Namibia (which is in Southern Africa and Angola is not). Now I know you might be thinking, Rachie, you are so insensitive, liberation struggles are no laughing matter but rather complex realities experienced by many who suffered a great deal of hardship and revealed the worst qualities of mankind. Yes I know that and respect it, but just wait, there is some humor in this situation. Anyway there were three main freedom fighting groups within Angola, Unita, MPLA and..FMLA. Now for all you ardent feminists, you may know that FMLA is an acronym that stands for feminist majority leadership alliance (Brandeis’s feminist campus group). I was so excited to hear that the feminists were so involved in the liberation struggle. It seemed to have confirmed all the wonderful efforts I knew that women were truly capable of.. Sadly I found out the next day that I had heard wrong and the correct acronym for the group was the FNLA. So I hope you can see the humor in this and not think I am an insensitive, awful person.

Moving on, so last Shabbat I went back to Milnerton, the two house, garage-converted-into -a-shul community (also known as the JLC – Jewish Learning Center), which was wonderful as always. However, on Shabbat day, a women’s shir was held (the population was predominantly middle aged women and me and a few other girls my age). I must admit the whole experience was rather disappointing. The conversation confirmed every stereotype people attach to women especially with a Jewish context. Instead of discussing a text or concrete Jewish issue, the facilitator simply asked us to define freedom in the spirit of Pesach swiftly approaching. While a few interesting answers were given, the conversation very quickly turned into a therapy session in which we discussed marriage, failed marriages, professional troubles and our “emotions.” Uch. As a Jewish woman, I was a little insulted. I, and I would guess most of the women at this shir, am fully capable of discussing pressing Jewish topics. There is no need to go out of your way to create a forum for Jewish women to learn if you are simply going to engage in a conversation that would be quite common outside of that context. I felt like the whole situation simplified and offended the intellect of Jewish women. We, too, are members of a religious system that relies upon discussion and debate in order to continue to understand how the laws, ideas and theologies of Judaism continue to be relevant and necessary to our lives. While I am sure this is not what was intended, I regarded this as an affront to women’s involvement within this process.

While I have not discussed the issue of women in Judaism so much here, I have recently been forced to consider our status through the lens of the Cape Town Jewish community. Because of the limited options of movements, any traditional woman must adhere to an Orthodox system. So in going to Shul (which for many is one of their primary active Jewish experiences), they must sit behind a mechitza and not be active participants in the service. Because this is one of the main ritual experiences a lot of these women have, I have noticed that there are often a lot of women who do not focus so much on praying and as a result there is often a lot of talking. It also seems that women do not have too many opportunities to enrich themselves in Jewish learning or simply do not utilize the resources available to them. Ultimately, I feel as though women internally do not feel as though they matter so much within the community because it seems that intellectually and arguably spiritually they do not have much to offer. I do not know if people actually feel this way and I do see a great deal of social communal involvement that clearly implies that these women value their communities a great deal. However, I have been lucky enough to be part of traditional communities that do allow women to spread their intellectual wings within the confines of halacha. I have also decided to extend these boundaries on my own and take strides that I acknowledge are outside the realm of halacha in order to feel as empowered and spiritually inspired as possible. But regardless of my own decisions, I know that there is a way for women to feel as though they serve a greater purpose than stereotypes permit and I wish that this was available to traditional Jewish women in South Africa.

I experienced yet another “marginalization of women in traditional Judaism” situation in the past two weeks of the Religion, Sexuality and Gender class which were focused on Judaism. The lecturer for this section is a progressive (South Africa’s version of reform) Rabbi who has a congregation in a Cape Town suburb. Throughout his lecture I sensed a subtle disdain for traditional Judaism as a result of its sexist, prejudiced and inconsiderate nature. In my opinion, he did not fully communicate the significance of upholding tradition within Orthodox spheres and at times made it seem like the movement continues to oppress and victimize women who have no voice in the system. I personally have many issues with traditional Judaism in regard to the subjects of sexuality and gender, however I am very aware that there are many people who are completely devoted to this system and understand that each law must be held to in order to comply with what God commanded of them (though I also acknowledge that many people in this system do grapple with these issues while still functioning within a halachic framework). So, as this Rabbi continued to make remarks like “while orthodoxy does this to women, the progressive movement has disregarding it because it is offensive,” I felt as though he was not articulating the value of upholding tradition or acknowledging attempts that are being made to mend certain issues within Orthodoxy within the confines of halacha. He simply made it seem that while progressive Judaism makes progress and is enlightened to the ways of the modern world, traditional Judaism is stuck within a sexist system and refuses to change.

It is almost as if the realities of the women of the traditional Jewish communities are confirming the issues that the progressive movement (or maybe just this one Rabbi) has pinpointed within Orthodoxy. Remember these are all I statements and this also might seem biased since I have had moments where I have felt marginalized by traditional Judaism and have taken necessary steps to stop feeling this way. I really hope I do not sound patronizing, it is just that I know so many amazing women who operate within the halachic system and are so confident and competent within it. So when it seems like the system itself as well as perception of it prevent women from developing this strength, I wonder if the problems that I have with traditional Judaism extend beyond my personal preference. I wonder if the system actually does not do all that it can to empower women (and others) to gain all that they possibly can from the traditional system.

South African Ulpan:

Bru – noun – brew – slang for brother

When Jimmy saw Calvin at the joll, he said “howzit bru?” Calvin responded “great thanks, I just got here, but I was little late because my buckey broke down and I could not go home from the beach to change,” to which Jimmy responded “shame, man, that is why you are wearing your cozzie.”

Wow look at you guys, you just understood a whole paragraph of South African. Gold stars for all of you!

The Bush!

2008-03-28T05:00:00.000-07:00

While the last two months have allowed me to feel as though I am a true resident of South Africa due to a variety of experiences that have compelled me to develop an awareness of where I am and who I am surrounded by, I think that my safari experience this past week certainly offered the simple luxuries attached to being a tourist, to being a foreigner present to appreciate the aesthetic qualities of South Africa. I, along with the six friends from my program, spent four days detached from the rest of the world, left to enjoy our natural surroundings, the company of amazing animals (kind of like in The Lion King) and the illusion that we were roughing it in the African bush that one would expect to find on this continent. It was wonderful to take a break from the constant social analysis that I am forced to apply to my environment (while I clearly love that aspect of this experience so much it can get quite exhausting) and instead direct it toward a completely different one with different subjects to study.

Safaris are extremely beneficial experiences to have when trying to understand the world in which animals live. While one could see elephants and lions at a zoo nearby, observing animals in their natural habitat is a truly enlightening glimpse into their routines, relationships and general experiences. The majority of our trip was spent passively looking out into the same savannah scenery in an amazingly cool safari truck. We were responsible for finding the game on our own which were spread throughout the park often creating long time intervals between each sighting. Essentially we were forced to cater to the lives of these animals instead of being in a location where their natural practices are sacrificed for the entertainment of human beings. We were witnessing these animals in their most natural form and environment. As humans, we seemed to come second to these amazing creatures; searching for them became our focus, our goal. In adopting this as our mission we successfully found baboons, giraffes, ostriches, impalas, elephants, lions, warthogs (my new favorite animals in the whole wide word), terrapins (UMD!), wildabeasts, water buffalo, badgers, hyenas, jackels (I feel really cool that I can say I have seen a jackel), cool birds whose name I can’t remember, hippos and probably more. Watching most of these animals and simultaneously learning about so many of their characteristics from our amazing guide Dan was fascinating. Their mating patterns, physical build, herd structure, security systems, excretion practices, food intake etc. collectively constructed images of beings who are not as distant from humans as we think. All of these animals lead such complex lives which is something I don’t think I realized before.

To observe all of this in such an untouched environment added an immense amount to the experience. The surroundings were very redundant, grassy, tree-y plains. It seemed as though that was the way this area always looked, that no person had come to interrupt the natural course of things. It was so simple. While it was not aesthetically the most pleasing environment, its purity made it gorgeous. As the sun would set each day, rousing various color shifts in the sky, I felt as though this is the way the world looked when it was created and many of whom it was created for were these animals that continue to thrive in this area set aside not for humans, but for them.

In no experience was this all more clear than we went on a walk through the same surroundings we had only driven through up until that point and were sort of charged by a lion. Walking through the bush that is Kruger national park, we were face to face with a female lioness marking her territory. FYI: we were with two armed guides trained to deal with situations but who after our survival was confirmed admitted to only having experienced that once before…so don’t worry bubby. She did not run at us but walked towards us as if it was on her mind. Thankfully our guide communicated successfully with the lion and we survived one of the cooler things that has happened to me in my time. It was clear that she was simply protecting herself and the other lions with her. As humans, we had no ownership of where we were but completely submitted to the world of these incredible animals.

While the lioness was able to firmly stand her ground, many other animals seemed quite frightened of us, of human. Amidst all the wonder, it was clear that many of these animals live in fear of those who sit atop them in the food chain. It was extremely said to think that their first reaction to any interruption is to run away. The smaller animals such as zebras, impalas and kudu (cool word for antelope with awesome beards) are constantly being hunted by lions and as a result they must always be alert. It must be really sad to live ones life in fear. But while it is easy to be angry at the lions for causing it, they entered a world that automatically offered them protection yet forces them to be the enemy. While I doubt they possess the emotional capacity to understand their actions (hunting and killing all of the other animals) and the consequences, I recognized that it is not their fault; they have to survive as well. But it was quite interesting to observe a world in which hierarchy is inevitable and arguably necessary. Yet what i found most interesting and heartwarming was that there were so many moments when herds of zebras would interact with herds of impalas and wildabeasts in perfect harmony. Our guide told us that these communities are created among different types of animals as a means of protection since they all have common enemies and pose no threat to one another. It was incredible to see both the positive and negative characteristics so reminiscent of those of humans within these beings. While I could probably forge some connection to South African social and political history I am attempting to remain within the simple mindset I refuse to escape.

As we saw each animal our guide showed us different ways which they use the take full advantage of all the physical things the area around them has to offer. He would pick leaves of plants and tell us how these are used by the animals as toilet paper, he would bite the stalk of a different plant and reveal the soft bristles that could be used to clean the teeth of the animals, he pointed out a specific spot used by impalas to “drop their blessings” so as to provide nutrients for the plants from which they ate that rested in the same area. It was quite clear that the natural world in its untouched form provides its habitants with all of its necessities, that it simply works. I found this to be quite a spiritual realization.

I apologize for not providing scheduled details of our activities but for the most part we would travel around Kruger looking for animals during the day and at night we would head to our camp sites that were completely set up for us, tents fully equipped with bed frames and mattresses, with a gourmet cooked dinner waiting for us and bathrooms nearby…while the difficulties of “roughing it” were rather hard to handle, we survived.. just barely (um…I hope you all realize that I am kidding since it is clear that we were very far from roughing it). After a few nights of such filth, we were unexpectedly rewarded by a beautiful night cruise along the Drackensburg mountains (insert cliche mountain/sky/river/spirituality/god comments here) and accommodations at an incredible game lodge where we slept in triangular, bamboo huts with comfy beds and mosquito bedding that actually contributed to the elegance of the place. We again enjoyed a wonderfully tasty dinner and joked about the horrendous conditions of our “camping adventure.” After dinner, Dan, told us traditional African stories offering a very creative explanation of various physical characteristics of certain animals (such as the reason why hyenas hind legs are shorter than their front legs and why a certain African animal which I forget has a white tush). In African tradition, it seems that everything requires an explanation that allow each strange aberration to be significant. I was so fascinated by this; it elevated so many small seemingly insignificant things to the level of sacred and intertwined within culture and ritual.

The whole experience was a really amazing change of pace. I had a great time with the group of people I was with, I was able to fully separate myself from the emotional and physical exhaustion (though both good things) of my life in Cape Town and I developed a new appreciation for the complexity of a world in which I did not know it was present. One of the cooks from one of our camp sites, Godsave (that is his real name) would constantly say after each meal presentation: “Kill yourself…but don’t die.” While the statement seemed quite odd at the time I think I may have figured it out. While he was saying it in reference to eating as much food as possible without passing the threshold of death I suppose, I think what he was really saying was that you should consume as much as possible, challenge yourself as much as possible, live to the fullest..literally, but not to the point where you cannot gain from all of the consumption anymore. I feel like all of the experiences I have had so far in South Africa have definitely allowed me to capitalize on so much of what the world has to offer. But while being a tourist was quite nice and an identity that allowed me to continue to gain from the wonders of this world, I am quite excited to get back to being a Cape Townian and unraveling all of the layers that come along with that.

I think i may refrain from South African Ulpan because of all of the pictures that i believe will prvide you with a cool glimpse into Africa.

Cheers...Kill yourselves, but don't die!

Happy Holidays!

2008-03-22T14:58:00.000-07:00

Suggestion: This is quite a long, but condensed post. Don’t be mad at me for it, (ahem…yoella), simply split up your readings so as not to feel obligated to or bored of reading the whole thing.

I hope every one had a wonderful Purim/Shabbat/Easter weekend. I had a really great experience in Sea Point at my official favorite shul in Cape Town, Beit Midrash Morasha (with the three rabbis and brachas [Kiddush] that would make me want to be Jewish if I were not already a member of the tribe). It took me quite some time to figure out my costume and I was quite proud of what I came up with even though time and resources were lacking…sadly though my efforts were not too appreciated. I was an American trying really hard to be South African: I wore a “Cape Town” hat and South Africa lanyard. I carried around my UCT orientation bag with a copy of Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, a popular travel book and malaria medication. On top of all of this I dressed in earth tones to reflect the foreign assumption that Africa is a bush that requires such soft, plain colors to avoid getting eaten by lions. Yet to counteract this fictitiousness, I made sure that all of my Cape Town touristy things were bright colors which was intended to mock the American misinformed conception of Africa. Yea, no one got it, which was sad, but I was proud of myself…that counts for something…right?

The celebration at shul was amazing. The megillah was read by one of the rabbis complete with inserted voices and sound effects. The food at the meal was quite delicious and the festivities that followed once again proved the innovation and care that continue to emerge within this community. The rabbis, the community bachurim and the b’nei akiva youth group leaders all put on very cute skits that clearly required a great deal of time and creativity. The gathering of the community was the largest collection of Cape Town Jews that I have experienced so far. It was quite inspiring to see such an eclectic group of people (augmented by the fact that they were all in costume) who practice and experience their Judaism quite differently unite to celebrate a holiday that is so complex and can appeal to anyone because of the various fun, communal customs that also yield deeper meaning.

I have heard a lot of ideas relating to Purim recently that have added many new dimensions to my understanding of the holiday. One that I believe will escape from the depths of my brain and reintroduce itself to me each year comes from the Friday night sermon given by the shul Rabbi (though my interpretation of his words may be a little off). He started off speaking about the linguistic connection between Purim and Yom Kippur (Yom Haki-purrim). He discussed the seriousness of Yom Kippur and how we depart from our humanity for the day to ask for forgiveness by speaking so personally with God. In order to reach this level, this status that is supposed to emulate that of angels, we must refrain from a variety of normal, physical, human actions on Yom Kippur (such as eating, drinking, using soaps and sprays, wearing leather etc.). He then discussed that Purim seems to be quite the opposite. The day is a celebration of our survival as a Jewish people and the miracles that God has done for us. In order to rejoice we are supposed to fulfill a bunch of mitsvot associated with Purim (eating a good meal, drinking alcohol, giving mishloach manot and tzedakah etc.) that are all physical actions through which we can derive pleasure. It seems strange that these two holidays would have such similar names, one is so rooted in the spiritual while the other is so clearly physical...where is the connection?

I thought the answer to this question was quite beautiful. From what I understood though I might be filling in some of the blanks myself, he said that on Yom Kippur, our existence as physical beings is not quite prepared to be the agent through which our true selves emerge. We must first completely acknowledge our faults, our wrong doings through the spiritual outlet of repentance before we can fully express our best selves in a physical way. Once we have allowed this understanding of our identities to sit, to marinate inside of us, we are then ready to demonstrate our positive qualities through physical actions. This shift of positive, human expression, from spiritual to physical, takes place on Purim. We eat, we drink and are merry and we do so with members of our family and community. The obligatory seudah is an event that combines giving and taking. The giving continues with m’shloach manot and matanot levyonim. We use obligations that require physical actions as a way to elevate ourselves, reveal who we truly are on a spiritual level through physical practice. Purim is the fusion of the spiritual and physical self and ultimately facilitates the process through which we become our best selves.

The idea of giving being the core of who we are was strengthened by another experience I had over Shabbat. I started the newest book on my “get to know South Africa” reading list, Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s “No Future without Forgiveness.” The book discusses the development and findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission which was established by Nelson Mandela upon becoming president as a government sponsored initiative to come to terms with the unspeakable atrocities and sentiment of South Africa’s past. Tutu who just retired as Archbishop at the time was appointed as the leader of the program in 1996. The commission was the spawn of a tricky debate regarding how to confront the past of a broken, dehumanized people. The process was complicated by the reality of oppressor and oppressed still needing to live among one another. South Africa’s transition to democracy was not a victory for the marginalized majority, it was a product of frustrating negotiation that failed to produce a full awareness of the apartheid system’s lasting, horrific impact, that failed to create a set plan for how to have the logistical reality mirror the new, non-prejudice constitution. So how does one place such horror in the archives of a country’s history?

Instead of engaging in long, expensive trials of the perpetrators such as the case was in Germany after the Holocaust and instead of simply moving forward and letting bygones be bygones, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was created. The objective of the commission was to offer amnesty to perpetrators of violence and criminal acts in exchange for their stories, their details, their accepted responsibility. Stories of victims were also collected by the commission in order to provide those who suffered with a voice that was silenced for so long, voices that those who were oppressed did not even know they had. The purpose of the commission was not to paint individuals as the primary enemy, but rather paint the apartheid system as the beast, expose the awful legislation and institutions of the racist regime that birthed such hateful individuals as the true opponent. In order for each person to be pardoned of their crimes, their narratives needed to fit within many criteria that were created so as not to grant amnesty to those whose motivation for committing such crimes was beyond the fulfillment of a commanded task. Pinpointing an entire way of thinking and putting that on trial seemed much more constructive in preventing such terror and dehumanization from occurring again. Many criticized this process because they did not believe that it granted justice to the countless victims of such a terrible regime or hold the latter fully accountable.

Tutu responds to this critique by discussing two different kinds of justice. He first mentions retributive justice, in which the primary objective is to be “punitive” and retaliatory. This type of justice was arguably not placed at the forefront of the initiatives of the commission. Yet Tutu says that this is accomplished by placing the blame on the state and understanding the wrongs of an entire system and dismantling not only the physical institutions but the ideological remnants as well. The second form of justice that he discusses is restorative justice in which “the central concern is the healing of breaches, the redressing of imbalances, the restoration of broken relationships, a seeking to rehabilitate both the victim and the perpetrator, who should be given the opportunity to integrate into the community he has injured by his offense” (54-55) The driving concept behind this form of justice is ubuntu. To quote the book again to show you the true beauty and inspiration of the author’s words, Tutu describes ubuntu by saying:

“It speaks to the very essence of being human.... You are generous, you are hospitable, you are friendly and caring and compassionate. You share what you have. It is to say ‘my humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up, in yours.’ We belong in a bundle of life. We say ‘a person is a person through other persons.’ It is not ‘I think therefore I am.’ It says rather: ‘I am human because I belong. I participate, I share.’ A person with ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has proper self-assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed, or treated as if they were less than who they are.” (32)

I cannot express how in awe I am of this man, of this idea (really, I want to name my child ubuntu or something…ok maybe a middle name, or a pet fish). Understanding humans as intrinsically linked to one another, as beings that must confirm their humanity through kind and positive interaction is a complete reversal of all that apartheid attempted to accomplish. While the Nationalist government did everything they could to strip all non-whites of their dignity and humanity, in the end, it is them who were devoid of this. It was the selfish, cruel inhumanity that ideologically elevated those who mobilized around and fought injustice, who were able to rise above the evils of the world and be what a human is expected to be. In seeking justice this same level of giving seems to have applied according to the revolutionary, remarkable standards set by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Giving, whether in the form of an extra piece of bread or forgiveness is what grants someone their humanity which is especially valuable when one has had it beaten into them that they do not possess any. (Unfortunately I cannot yet go into too much about the Commissions actions since I am only on page 56, but I am sure I will have much more to say about Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s spectacularly inspiring and spiritual understanding of reconciliation through the prism of truth, of responsibility and of giving.)

Continuing on the theme of giving, I once again had a wonderful Shabbat in the Cape Town Jewish community that continues to expose me to people’s constant generosity. I along with four other friends stayed at the house of one of the four. It felt really natural to have a fun, friendly sleepover…in Cape Town. Sadly there were no pillow fights but it made me realize how warmly I have been taken into the community; not only have I been invited from place to place but I have really started to develop personal relationships with people inside of it which I am so thankful for. Then on Friday night, three of us went to the house of the official Rabbi of the shul who has given most of the sermons I have quoted on this blog including the one I have already mentioned. (I have to tell you I am such a fan of this man and is whole family. One of his three kids is a six year old boy who sings Anim Z’mirot to a really elaborate tune and like studies Talmud.) Anyway, dinner was really interesting especially because one of the guests was the American presidential administration’s appointed special envoy to monitor and combat anti-Semitism (yea now try to repeat that) who is currently visiting South Africa and I am guessing trying to monitor and combat anti-Semitism here. The position was created in 2004 (he was sworn in by Condoleezza Rice) and he is the first person to occupy it. He told us how his job consists of visiting various countries and trying to gauge the status of Jewish sentiment there. He visits places that both have Jewish populations and some that do not have any. He discussed various experiences in Yemen, Australia, Saudi Arabia etc. It was really amazing to hear him speak about all that he does because he probably is the only person on the earth to have access to so much knowledge regarding various Jewish communities and mentalities relating to Jews within the context of a vast base of international political knowledge.

Putting politics aside, there was so much to be gained from what he said, from what he does. To know that there is an office in the U.S. government devoted to understanding the status of sentiment regarding Jewish people around the world is comforting in a way. At the same time it was hard to understand how one can quantify anti-Semitism in meetings with various higher ups in different countries around the world. How do these conversations play a role in changing ingrained mentality, ingrained hatred that does not stand on its own? Anti-Semitism is an institution that is specific in its victims, but universal in its ideological foundation. It is hate, it is disrespect, it is the denial of entitlement to personal belief; it is the same foundation that has produced systems like apartheid and continues to manifest itself in the glaring inequalities of this country. It is intertwined with every other anti, ever other prejudice, so how does one monitor and combat hate when it is often more present in humans than the ubuntu Desmond Tutu so fantastically defined? While I am really intrigued at the existence of this man’s position, it is difficult for me to understand what can actually be brought about by what seems to me to be gaining awareness of isolated presences of anti-Semitism? I do not phrase this question in a way that demands the answer of nothing. Rather I truly have no idea what the answer is (this might have a lot to do with the fact that I clearly do not have full grasp on what this new office does which I hope to research). I suppose there is some connection here begging to be made between this office and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission but the trouble is that there is no end in the case of Anti-Semitism, no transformation that can offer the discoveries a new context in which to be useful. There is a huge difference between institutionalized oppression and ideological oppression and the latter is clearly not cured by disabling the former, but it is a starting point. But what is the starting point when the motivation to create this new office in the U.S. government is the result of a worsening wound and not the beginnings of a healing process? Could this potentially give way to such a thing? I was both comforted and discomforted by this experience, mostly I am now rather confused. If you have any thoughts please share!

On a different note, I am officially on fall break, no not spring break, fall break. So starting tomorrow I will be on a safari in the world famous Kruger National Park hanging out with lions and giraffes and sleeping under the stars. I suppose my earth tones would come in handy there. Anyway hopefully when I get back on Friday I will have lots of fun stories to tell you and pretty pictures to share from my adventures in Kruger.

Congratulations you deserve a really awesome South African Ulpan after all of this:

Joll – noun- pronounced joel (as in billy joel) – origin: Afrikaans - a party

After the Philadelphia Eagles win the Super Bowl in 2009, there is going to be a huge joll throughout the entire city…oh and Cherry Hill New Jersey too since they are devoid of their own culture.

Cheers!

Drop a beat yo!

2008-03-19T10:50:00.000-07:00

Yo! So over the past couple of weeks a few friends and I have been really into writing raps about random topics (I have also learned to beat box a tiny bit). So I wanted to share a few that I have written with all of you. Funny story: tomorrow there is a rap contest on campus and my friends are going to be using the first rap for it, I sadly cannot join because its purim…ok DROP A BEAT!!

RACE:

To be white in Africa is somewhat of a crime
Cant identify with oppression and stuck in this bind

We have stolen resources, occupied others’ land
We have adjusted to privilege and have blood on our hands

Tack on being American to this tarnished existence
And there aint no way to be part of the resistance

So what should we do when consumed by guilt
And cant contribute to the revolutions others have built

Steve Biko says we have a place in this fight
Convincing those with like skin of the human plight

So we must stay on the outside to earn our place
Solidarity conquered by the color of my face

But see white and black are not true classifications
Just terms used to separate artificial nations

Construction and resources create this divide
Leading to an unequal distribution of pride

But as much as I care I just can’t relate
Because my skin has never been the object of hate

My sympathy will only last as I am looking down
As a white privileged American abroad in Cape Town

FAVORITE FOOD:

Steak is so tasty I could eat it all the time
Mm in any form, pepper, filet, rib or even prime

Its juicy succulence makes me overflow with joy
Uch whats wrong with vegetarians they cant get this satisfaction from soy

If people could be satiated by such simple things
Perhaps there would not be awful dictators and recalcitrant kings

Then the world would be a better place
People could live without fear because of such a heavenly taste

I guess it doesn’t matter much when I think about it now
Since no matter what your killing lots of cows

But the wonders of the world such as a the perfect cut
Could save so many from the proverbial doors closing shut

If we focus on simplicity and don’t salivate over power
The world could stop being thorny and bloom into a beautiful flower

SOMETHING RANDOM THAT COMES TO MIND:

Remember the days when feminism was cool
When Lilith fair rocked with Sarah McLaughlin and Jewel

Haters say important issues are now old news
Since some people recognize a woman’s right to choose

The same people say feminism has run its course
Now its just angry lesbians using unnecessary force

The wage gap isn’t the only remnant of this fate
What about countless unstable emotional states

We ignore the issues and disguise them as norms
So girls hurt themselves to perfect their forms

What about in countries where agency isn’t an option
And they say god said so to mask the corruption

You see equality isn’t the same as being the same
Think about that when you see a woman sexualized and defamed

Its so much more than a mans dollar to a woman's seventy cents
Its about quality of life are you really that dense

Feminism is more than a societal irritation
Its about unequal access to resources for marginalized populations

So lets stop classifying woman as the other
Open your eyes to the truth and oh yea word to your mother.

Gosh add this to African Dance and I think I could be a triple threat…umm not really. Anyway, so things here have been going quite smoothly. I climbed another mountain on Sunday. I know you have all been so sad that no mountains have been discussed recently so I made sure to let you know that they continue to be a constant in my life in Cape Town.

So I have discovered yet another interesting connection between my archaeology class and my poverty development and globalization class. While societies of the African past are looked down upon and classified as backward and primitive, they were completely self-sustained communities. While there were distinct separations between the upper and lower classes, every person had access to the resources they needed within the confines of their own homestead. When this was not the case, the wealthy were relied upon to provide what was necessary to those who were not as wealthy. In the Westernized world that is constantly patting itself on the back while simultaneously criticizing countries that have not adopted the same system and feel the need to colonize and shed light upon the darkness, this is not so. Globalization has made every country dependant upon others and has segmented every industry. Subsequently, no society has full control over its own fate. Yes, some countries place themselves in better positions within the global commodity chains that determine the winners, potential winners and losers within the world market, but no country’s place is safe. Changes in every country impact the process of production since for example cotton is picked in one country, then sent to another country to be used to make a shirt and the shirt is then sold somewhere else. If social upheaval, economic decline, an oil crisis or a military coup occur in any of the aforementioned countries, the entire process suffers. Not only is this system very unstable but it also creates very defined categories of those who benefit and those who suffer. The rich management folk make money and the working class is exploited and provided with unlivable conditions and wages. One significant downfall of the economic development of a country is that it ultimately helps those that don’t need it and does so at the expense of members of the lower echelons of society who are given little opportunity to work their way up.

As I say this, I know that I am one of the benefactors of this system. I know that I can complain as much as I want about capitalism but in the end, it is exactly what has given me the opportunity to pursue the education that has led me to this conclusion. So once again, I am ranting about a plight that is not mine, and I am only doing so from a distance. But even so, I think it is clearly impressive that the dependency that our capitalist culture necessitates is vacant from the African culture I previously mentioned.

Oh and of course Shabbat. It was quite fun to bring friends from my program with us to Milnerton. However I must say that when you have to explain a religious service that can be interpreted as patriarchal by those who have never experienced it before (and those who have as well I guess), it makes you more conscious about what can be interpreted as strange or dare I say oppressive within an environment that has become so commonplace. To explain a mechitza and the women standing in place while the men dance around the bimah is quite difficult to do in a way that does not make orthodox ritual sound anti-women. While I have not thought about my issues with gender within Orthodoxy so much, on Friday night I think that they surfaced. I know that many women are fully capable of being inspired within an orthodox service and ever since I have come to Cape Town, I would put myself in that category. But being cut off from the activity within the service forces me to approach prayer from a very individual perspective and while I can value that it might seem difficult to do if you are not used to the service and don’t know how it inspires you.

Jumping around to yet another topic, in my Liberation in Southern Africa class, we had yet another speaker directly involved with the struggle come to speak. I was in the presence of Dennis Goldberg, a white member of the South African communist party (Jewish too…yay) who was the weapons maker for the MK, the (unofficial) armed wing of the ANC, who was arrested along with other famous members of the ANC like Walter Sisulu and Ahmed Kathrada, who was tried in the Rivonia Trial in 1963 along with Nelson Mandela and many others for attempting to overthrow the state and who served 22 years in prison as a result of his involvement with the struggle. To hear a white man speak about all that he has done in such a humble manner was astounding. None of these men believe that their actions were extraordinary but rather action based upon an obligation to better the world. While this tone has been present both in Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and in the previous talk I have written about given by Neville Alexander, to hear this humility, this natural concern and desire from a person who could have easily avoided the same responsibility and the same danger by simply staying outside of the organizations of which he was a part, was remarkable and riveting. Throughout his whole talk, he cracked jokes, he was extremely gentile in his demeanor, he was none of the things a person would expect of someone who was imprisoned for multiple decades and placed in a situation that would strip most of their dignity and their passion for the causes that placed them there. If I was physically capable of crying, I might have done so as I was listening to this man’s words.

South African Ulpan:

Buckey – noun – buck-ee – a pick up truck

In order to defy societal gender norms, Gretchen, an ardent feminist, purchased a buckey when she was in need of a new automobile.

Happy Purim!!!! (details of my purim activities will be included in the next post)

Two Kinds of Luck...

2008-03-14T06:37:00.000-07:00

Hello all!! So today for the first time I wore a sweater and it made me a little sad. Before you get mad at me for making a reference to amazing sunny, warm, wonderful weather, I am going to move on….This past week has been action packed. On Monday I officially switched from the computer literacy project to a math/English tutoring program for sixth graders in the in the same place, Khayalitcha. (sorry I spell it different every time but I figure you all know what I mean). Interestingly, it is practically the same program as the one I am involved with on Thursday is Kensington but in a township. As a result, I can really compare the two experiences to each other and understand the differences between the two communities. From Monday’s events, it is clear to me that while neither community receives an adequate amount of resources, townships must deal with the unique and frustrating problem; a horrendous teacher:student ratio. In one classroom filled with three sections of the sixth grade, I was presented with a class of 15 sixth graders. The physical makeup of our area was a thin vertical line of desks that prevented half the class from being able to hear what I was saying, the presence of two other classes in the same room did not make the situation any easier. Overwhelmed by a sporadic curriculum that required these kids to complete long-division, patterns, exponents, rounding (and an English section we did not even touch) in one lesson and the glaring reality that a few kids were capable of doing all of the math while some were completely lost was a terribly enlightening glance into the world of poverty, discrimination and unreached potential. I put forth as much effort as I could possible exert to both teach and initiate relationships with these kids, I sweat so much running from group to group trying to help them with the presented problems and yet there was no possible way that these kids would have access to the assistance and information they needed…and this is a selective after school program. I cannot even imagine how the schools in the townships function.

I am a privileged, study-abroad student eager to learn about the world around me and to volunteer for a few hours a week in impoverished areas is a significant part of my experience. How does someone who has been teaching in the flawed educational system for 7 years, who has witnessed a huge percentage of her students drop out to pursue elusive employment, crime, or simply does not see the point to attending , who has to deal with a massive spectrum of knowledge among the remaining students, who will never have enough materials to offer, how does that person teach in these circumstances every day? I cannot imagine. I really cannot fathom the amount of persistence, strength and hope that such a position requires. Most likely, there is a great deal of anger and despondency among the teachers as a result of such impossible conditions that creates yet one more obstacle within the educational system.

Recently, my attention has been directed toward the sad reality that even if a person brought up in such a situation is able to do what is expected of them and follow a path that is arguably deemed good, what do they achieve as a result? There are so few opportunities available to these kids to do anything with an education, if they are even capable of finishing all of the requirements. There is more incentive to get involved in crime or drugs than to complete high school. Add this to the ever-present danger of simply surviving the dangers of township life and what hope is there? What chance does anyone have to escape when there are millions upon millions more exactly like them?

I bet this description is rather generic and could accurately be attached to countless other communities, societies or groups throughout the world. This is probably the reality of a lot of areas in Philadelphia. So I suppose that the inequalities about which I wrote in my last post are clearly not unique to South Africa. Perhaps I could only realize this in a foreign location, in a place where I did not drive by poor, urban areas on the way to school every single morning and simply allowed it to fade into the background. Perhaps as a human being, and one who has lived in American for my entire life, I have the responsibility to acknowledge the issues that arise wherever I am and I have to avoid the desensitization that I now have to poverty in the U.S.. But how? How can I, a person who is lucky enough to never actually experience this, who is lucky enough to not have to worry about such basic needs and as a result can acknowledge those who do, do anything constructive in the attempts to change a virtually unchangeable world that will continue to favor me and provide me with the things I need? I guess in the end, all I can really do is become aware of these issues; not just those surrounding the victims of unequal distribution but those related to my undeserved status as someone who benefits from the system, as someone who is consuming the resources denied to those who need them most. I continue to have experiences that reveal how lucky I am, but now that I have realized all of the above, it is clear to me that my luck comes at the expense of so many others. It does not even seem like luck anymore but rather theft, theft of what should not belong to me. Yet I can never help in breaking down this system, because I will continue to say these things from a privileged seat in the hierarchy of the world. My empathy will only last as long as I am looking down at it from a distance. Steve Biko, you were completely and utterly correct.

Moving on to another privilege in life that I am not entitled to, I had an interesting revelation this week about my Judaism. I have realized that because I grew up in an Orthodox community (albeit in a unique way) and experienced that lifestyle my whole life and for a good chunk of my college experience, I have built a strong network within this community. Since I have recently stepped outside of this framework, I have noticed that I still have access to this same network without having to completely commit to the Orthodox system. Yet it is this shared adherence that acts as the foundation for creating connections within the community. Subsequently, in a sense, I feel like I have cheated because a significant benefit associated with orthodox communities is the wonderful network (not to minimize the importance of halacha and practice at all by the way) and I can still be a part of that without actually conforming to the orthodox system. So I feel like if I did not have the upbringing that I did, I might feel more compelled to remain within the Orthodox system with those ulterior motives; to have access to this network of people and sense of community. It makes me feel a little guilty that I get to be a part of orthodox communities without conforming to their standards of practice…I know that sounds strange, but it almost seems to me like to be a part of a community you often have to make personal sacrifices and somehow I managed to not have to do so. At the same time I feel weird saying this because I know that communities should accommodate difference in practice and belief and sometimes this is the case but I don’t think in many practical cases this is so. I was thinking about this in the framework of realizing how easy it is to be a part of the South African Orthodox community without having to adhere to certain things which, to me, seems almost necessary in America (i.e. driving to shul, eating out, not fully hold fast to the halachic process etc). So you might say you can still be a part of the orthodox community without fully adhering to the system but it seems to me that in America if you choose to be traditionally conservative, egalitarian or whatever it is that I may be (which I don’t think either of these terms actually describe) you do commit yourself to a different grouping through the practices you chose to uphold (i.e. going to a conservative shul). Anyway in the end I don’t feel bad about this but rather lucky (the good kind of lucky that does not come ant anyone else’s expense) that I get to have such diverse first-hand exposure to Jewish communities.

Speaking of Jewish communities, in about an hour and a half I will be traveling once again to Milnerton for Shabbat (that is the place that always has lots of people for Shabbat and a garage converted into a shul on their property) with about 15 other Americans, some from my own program, and a few other random abroad students. It should be a really interesting experience since most of them have never had a Jewish experience. I am quite pumped!!! I hope everyone there is ready for the American invasion!

South African (culture) Ulpan:

The mini taxi – the mini taxi is a staple in the culture of Cape Town. Along each major area there, these rickety vans that have a magical capacity to fit as many as 46 people (though only the size of a mini-van, ok 46 is an exaggeration but you would not believe the amount of people that can fit into these things) at a time. The taxis proceed to drive straight up and down the main roads of these areas heading into the city center and other popular destinations. As they search for new customers, the ones already present asked to be dropped off at various locations along the road. In order to attract these new customers, the drivers proceed to constantly hock their horns at various passer-bys as the second taxi worker shouts unintelligibly the name of their route. Often the taxi comes to a sudden stop as the second taxi man runs three blocks away and magically returns with five more people who he convinced to go to whatever the destination may be. One may travel both near and far distances for only 4 or 5 rand which is the less than 75 cents.

Cheers!

Both E Fishmans..this ones for you!

2008-03-08T16:32:00.000-08:00

Shavua Tov! So far my one of the most exciting souvenirs that I may be bringing back with me to America is rhythm. This past Tuesday in the African Dance class that I am attending for fun, both the old and new dances were especially difficult to master which made me feel rather dejected and incapable. The worst part was that the class is very social which is quite nice but then in my mind it creates this sense of superiority among the people who are functional members of this microcosm of the world (aka the class) and those who are inferior bottom feeders devoid of any rhythm and thus purpose (aka me.. yea I know I am being dramatic, but hey I was in a pay last semester). So the next day, me and the three friends who I am taking the class with, determined to work our way up the social ladder, devoted two and half hours to practicing and perfecting the dances. Sure enough, when we had class once again on Thursday, we were awesome (at least awesome enough to blend in with those who sit atop the class hierarchy) and for the first time I felt as though I felt the steps instead of counting them; we were all so happy afterwards, the accomplishment was even physically present in the soarness of our bodies. While being in this class is miles away from my comfort zone (or should I say meters? Uch Americacentrism.. down with the isolating system of measurement that is untranslatable in the rest of the world), I am really proud of myself for taking on (or at least trying to) a new skill, for entering a new world and allowing the uncomfortable to become comfortable.

So this past Shabbat was wonderful. I ended up going on Bnei Akiva shabbaton in this beautiful beach town with a small Jewish community called Camps Bay. It happens to be right on the beach and is one of the most expensive areas in all of Cape Town. About 30 middle-school/high school aged kids and a bunch of madrichim counselors)..oh and two random Americans, slept in this gorgeous school that is attached to the community shul. The school, which I think is the only elementary school for “frum” kids, has around 60 students from nursery school to 6^th grade. There are around six kids in each class and the school itself is beautiful and in the most amazing location (there is clear view of the ocean). Cape Town Jewry continues to simultaneously baffle, amaze and make me overcome with joy. I have no idea how this property fell into the hands of the Jews of Camps Bay, but it was really spectacular. The Shabbaton itself was quite fun. I felt rather old since the people in charge were my age which for some reason I found strange. Singing the official song of Bnei Akiva, Yad Achim (which I was surprisingly capable of after not having sung it in 7 years), roused memories of my brief time spent in the youth group. While it was at times overwhelming, it was nice to spend Shabbat amidst younger people taking the initiate to revive the community since most of the attempts I have come across thus far have been those of adults. The necessity to constantly inspire seems to be a present force in multiple generations of this unique community. It was beautiful.

On Friday night, both Rabbis of the shul discussed the tragic terrorist attack that took place at Mircaz Harav in Jerusalem on Thursday night. There heavy, emotional words forced me to think about the event much more than I had when I initially heard of the attack. For me, the painful emotions sparked by terrorist attacks that take place in Israel feel very personal because, as a Jew, I feel connected to the people, the history, the land and the home that it represents. When that connection is threatened by acts of hatred, I feel as though this place that acts as a home (temporary as well as permanent) for so many Jews does not seem as safe as a home should. But attacking a yeshiva with hate hits a deeper part of our hearts. Regardless of what you practice or believe, if you feel connected to the Torah in some way and allow it to govern your life in some sense, your way of life was attacked on Thursday night. And as one of the Rabbis said, the very thing that so many Jews perceive as their shield in the world, learning Torah, was the setting of this devastation, of this cruelty. There was something different about this one. There is a pain that travels below where previous ones have landed.

Thinking about this reminded me of an interesting challenge that was posed to me after my last post. So upon special request, I have decided to somehow clarify the connections that I previously hinted to that I have to Israel, South Africa and America. As it was brought to my attention, issues that I have constantly been discussing exist in South Africa are clearly present in the other two (though they clearly materialize in different ways and this is in no way a comparison but rather a collection of related ideas).

Keep in mind the rest of this post is one big I-statement….Specifically, the racial segregation that I constantly return to that exists in South Africa is also something that is present in the U.S.. The difference is that in America, while we all have access to different resources and opportunities, we are all a part of the same system, the same culture that cultivates similar goals of success and financial stability. In South Africa, different groups of people do not seem to all function within the same framework and do not seem to strive for all of the same goals. For more than four decades (and unofficially for centuries), the fate of people with skin that was not white was determined for them by an oppressive, manipulative regime that subtly and at times more conspicuously dismantled the humanity, the agency, of a disproportionate majority of the population of South Africa. The Nationalist government classified the way of life of Africans as primitive, unworthy of development and rights and forced them to abide by rules that they had no part on creating (though through the creation of Bantustans, small territories set aside for blacks, a false sense of power was allocated to African leaders who were used as pawns of the apartheid system). Black life (along with that of other minority groups) was dictated by whites and in many ways, in the second decade after the disassembling of apartheid, its remnants prove that this fate still manifests itself in the dangerous, under-accommodating, littered townships. This continuing reality has strongly obstructed the togetherness, the rich culture of these people forcing them to judge themselves against a people and a culture that they don’t seem to feel connected to but must strive to be a part of as a means to attain the desired resources and respect.

It does not seem to me that this institutionalized, internalized hierarchy is not as present in America. To me, it seems that economics tend to dictate ideology in the U.S., whereas here ideology dictates economics. While I am not weighing them against each other, I think there is something deeper that lies at the foundation of the problems in South Africa (which is understandable considering America has had centuries to continue its process if recovering from institutionalized hatred and South Africa has had less than 15 years.) Perhaps I have been desensitized to the racial issues that exist in America, but I think that… I hope that when I go back, this newfound awareness and interest will allow me to understand American racial relations in a new, more informed way.

At the same time as I say this, I am reading the writings of Steve Biko, the father of the Black Consciousness Movement (an ideology created by black youth in the late 60’s to empower blacks to determine their own fate instead of waiting for the whites to do it for them). Sidebar: Keep in mind as you read this that the UCT student union is named after Biko…right, so no offense to Carl and Ruth, but how do you compare the Shapiro Campus Center to that? His beliefs strongly cast aside people who are white as fighters of the struggle since their efforts often suppress those of people who are black who actually experience inequality first hand. In the sixties and seventies, many attempts were made in South Africa to form non-racial groups that were essentially run by whites who allowed blacks to join. As a result, black liberation was dependant upon whites in this framework and defined by their standards. Steve Biko believed that in order for black people to be liberated, they needed to release themselves of their own internal oppressions that conformed to these set standards. They needed to learn to take pride in the color of their skin and the connections to their black brothers and sisters as a result. He believed that the opposite of Apartheid, an oppressive, elitist, racist regime was not non-racialism but rather a profound solidarity and pride in black identity. As a result, the place of someone who was white in the struggle was to educate other white people about their own mistakes instead of trying to monopolize the mission of the struggle.

Amidst the inevitable white ignorance and guilt that will forever keep me at a distance from both the struggle of racial minorities in South Africa as well as America, I feel as though inequality has become the foundation upon which I build my connections to locations. While there are so many cultural differences, inequality and hierarchical institutions are unfortunately one of the forces that link different countries and societies of the world together. I think that I have learned this lesson on a personal level through being Jewish. As a Jew, our history is sodden with oppression, with terror and while I personally have led a privileged life in which I have undeservingly not had to experience any direct acts of this oppression and hatred, I feel as though I have developed a hyperawareness of those who have; because I will, as a Jew, forever be vulnerable. I suppose this is where the discussion of Israel is relevant. Politics aside, while this vulnerability at times challenges the safety one can feel in this homeland (as was the case on Thursday night), the remarkable atmosphere of profound connection that exists there demonstrates the importance of having a place where the controlled can be provided with a sense of control over their lives. Physical spaces where people feel validated for being what they are through connection to others like them are so necessary to developing the type of pride that the Black Consciousness Movement promoted. I guess I would call this way of thinking Human Consciousness. The tenets of this way of thinking would surround understanding the inequalities experienced by others through whatever personal experiences one may have with oppression, in whatever form.

In the end, I am aware that South Africa, America and Israel all have oppression entangled in their identities (a bunch of which I acknowledge I have not touched upon at all [especially in Israel]). The connection to some of these places may be more developed for different reasons, but ultimately I hope that I can feel links to different places and people through the shared right that we all have to live a safe existence that instills a sense of worth and equality.

So Emily and Ezra, let me know if this is a sufficient reply to your challenge. If any other of you 12 readers want to know anything specific let me know and I would be glad to address it.

Instead of South African Ulpan, I think I would prefer to take an excerpt from a recent assignment for my Liberation in Southern Africa class regarding key events in the period from 1960 – 1994 within the liberation struggle.

December 20, 1991 – After more than a year of planning, the Convention for a Democratic South Africa (CODESA) met for the first time at the World Trade Center in Johannesburg representing the beginning of negotiations between the Nationalist government, the African National Congress and various other parties. The objective of the convention was to hopefully address various societal inequalities and create change in the form of a new South Africa that would potentially grant equal rights and resources to all its inhabitants.

Cheers!

same old...same old..

2008-03-04T12:37:00.000-08:00

Howzit? (This is a very popular South Africa greeting) I promise, though I am inquiring about your well-being in a forum that does not allow any reply that I do care and am not patronizing you..i really just wanted to say howzit. Anyway, things in the southern hemisphere (well Helena Court in Cape Town at least) are going quite well. This past

Shabbat was really wonderful, I went back to Sea Point and was again touched by the energy of the rabbis, the beautiful davening, the insightful speeches, the wonderful people who continue to become new friends and of course the delicious meat. Then on Sunday, I played Frisbee on a beautiful beach…again. Blah, blah… sorry it seems like I repeat myself, but I guess its nice to have a little bit of a routine.

On Sunday night, my awesome, Christian roommate and I began our long-awaited chevruta. We have decided that each week we will switch off introducing a text from our own religion and discuss it using our different religious lenses. Discussing a letter that she wrote including various religious themes, we proceeded to discuss the roles that God plays in our lives. Her unwavering love and faith in God was really striking. It made me reflect upon my own view on and relationship with God and I would like to share them. I think that I often try to infuse the motivation for my actions along with the actions themselves into my faith. I often refer to my attempts to treat people well as an expression of my faith because I believe that constantly focusing on how I should act is a way to live in God’s image and a way to put the purpose of the Torah (at least according to Rabbi Akiva) into action. While this does not seem negative in any sense for it tangles my belief and actions together in a way that creates a Jewish context for everything I do, I think that I rely upon this aspect of my Judaism (trying to treat people well and make moral decisions) to define my faith without ever addressing what I truly believe God to be. As much as I avoid the issue, in the way that I practice Judaism, faith is ultimately referring to my relationship with God.

I realized this at a shir on Monday night (something that I have happily adopted as part of my weekly routine) when the topic of discussion was faith, what it is and where it lies. In itm we discussed the idea of emunah, faith, and how to attain it. I was troubled by the definitiveness the sources were requiring of true believers because to me faith, especially in relationship to God, has always been so indefinable. To be told that this is not ok, that it needs to be something I fully understand was a little disconcerting and angering in the beginning. But as I thought about it more I came to realize that the life I lead and the things I both think about and believe in should lead me somewhere, to a definite understanding not in the sense of knowing what God is but at least to a declaration of an unwavering faith in some being known as God. Until now I think I have always thought of these things as the same but I have decided that they are quite dichotomous. I know that I believe in God, God’s oneness, God’s power and while at times I feel uncomfortable attaching certain terms that limit my understanding, I think that genuine, definite belief does provide God with some sort of identity, and in turn with some sort of understanding for the believer. While certain things remain unknown to me and I will never be possible to fully grasp every aspect of God, I suppose I am ok with that. The alternative would be too easy and what we define as faith would instead be a definite answer. And well, that would just be no fun.

Continuing on with exciting events that occurred on Monday, in my Liberation in Southern Africa class, the professor brought in a speaker Neville Alexander, who was a very active freedom fighter in the South African struggle and whose name popped up in “Long Walk to Freedom” numerous times. He discussed the transition from passive resistance to am armed struggle in the 1960’s as well as his 11 ears spent on robbin Island working with Nelson Mandela to turn prison into a educational “university” for all those incarcerated. His intelligence, articulateness and insight allowed me to catch a little glimpse of how amazing all of these brave people were. The Nationalist Government suppressed and persecuted them for so many decades and they were still able to remain focused on the plight of their entire people and continue to make contributions to the well being of South Africa today. It was humbling to be in this man’s presence, to visually have access to one being who has somehow positively impacted the lives of countless Africans.

After hearing about the evolution of struggle in South Africa, I was exposed to one of the problems yet to be remedied in this country since its liberation. Monday marked my second volunteer experience in the township of Khaylitscha. Traveling through such poor conditions, I expected to be overwhelmed by the differences, by the cultural and language barriers that were clearly present. But as I entered the computer room in the community center, the exact opposite occurred. While teaching computer literacy to kids who very much want to learn how to use these machines and who have such an appreciation for them can be a wonderful experience, it is rather difficult to find time to interact with them. They were very focused on the task at hand which is the point, but I felt unnecessary. And while it may be selfish of me to feel unfulfilled and underwhelmed, I think that I am going to try to find a different program to be a part of, one that will allow me to feel like I am making a contribution and being educated in return, one that will allow me to feel the same way I felt when I left Kensington last Thursday.

The brief period of time that was spent interacting did however grant me insight into this new world I hope to become acquainted with. As a group of 13 year old girls were introducing themselves to me, they asked me if I had any children. I did not know how to react and because we were only there in the context of learning how to use computers, I figured there would never be any way to converse about the lives of these kids, any way to form strong relationships and learn why this is the first thing they think to ask a stranger amidst playing solitaire and typing the names of fruit

All these complex experiences, along with all the ones I have had an presume I will continue to have, have really allowed me to feel connected to this country. I marvel everyday at the attempts that need to be made to continue to rebuild South Africa; everyone must constantly understand their role within it and while often this is a product of glaring inequality, this reconstruction allows people to be a part of a fluid process of change. I do not think I have ever thought about American in this way. While I value the life I have been privileged to lead as a result of growing up in a democratic meritocracy (well sort of), I do not feel like its history is my history, like the values that are strived for are the same that I attempt to attain. Here, the constant awareness of equality, inequality and identity are things I am proud to think about every day. It reminds me a little bit of Israel, because there I feel like my simple presence forces me to consider so many things that I cannot ignore, my religious identity, that of those around me and embracing difference both within and outside of the communities I identify with. I love being enriched not only by the people around me but by my surroundings as well, as I hope that later in life I am able to find a country to live in that provides me with that privilege.

That’s about enough pretentiousness for one night!

South African Ulpan:

Costume (Cozi) – noun – your smart enough to figure out how to pronounce this.Bathing suit.

Jamal wore his costume to the beach. (This is not a very smart sentence…I apologize)

Cheers from SA!

The Amazingness of Pajama Pants!

2008-02-28T21:12:00.000-08:00

So I have been here for a little over five weeks and I must tell you that I do not think I am fully settled into this whole situation yet. Every week it seems like something or someone new is introduced into my schedule. I am really happy that even though I have fully committed to life in Cape Town for the next bunch of months, there are still new challenges, new situations, new ideas to acclimate to. While I had the opportunity to acquaint myself with classes last week and the beginning of this week, today I ventured out to Kensington, a coloured community in Cape Town, for my first experience with UCT’s volunteer corps, SHAWCO (student health and welfare centers organization). Fun fact about SHAWCO: it is the largest operating, student run NGO in the world. Anyway with absolutely no clue of what to expect, a group of around 20 UCT students were warmly welcomed into the auditorium of the community center to a clamoring of claps and table-banging. Without any curriculum in hand (or anyone who knew what we were supposed to do for the first 10 minutes), we each walked over to and sat down at different tables with a group of 4-7 kids. Along with a native Captonian girl who I met on the bus on the way, I joined a group of seven fifth grade girls. We all said our names and discussed what we wanted to be when we grow up and while I was under the impression that we were there to teach English, they all were clearly capable of communicating with us. When the curriculum was finally given to us, I realized that we were not there to teach English but rather Math. I have not done math for a while but I figured it could not be too difficult to teach at a fifth grade level. You all probably think the same thing, well I challenge you to explain rounding to the nearest thousandth to 4 little girls at the same time who use different mathematical terminology.

While there were a few stumbles along the way, I definitely caught a glimpse into how beneficial this aspect of my abroad experience will be. These girls were so excited to meet us and were so dedicated to the work set before them, it was clear that this program (called KenSTEP) is something that means a lot to them. It is “marketed” to the students as a special program for those who have excelled in school and for that reason these girls definitely took pride in being there. Looking around at the decrepit buildings and the littered streets, I wondered what the lives of these children are like. I honestly do not know that much about Kensington’s economic, educational and social circumstances. I do not know how many kids further their education past standard 10 (grade 10- when it is legal for them to start working) or truly see the value of learning, I definitely need to learn more. What I do know is that this program has the potential to not only expose them to more knowledge, but introduce them to an atmosphere that values academic progress and cultivates goal setting. I feel so privileged to be a part of this environment. I feel as though I can learn so much from these adorable, intelligent, kind girls who will hopefully learn something from me. On Mondays I will be volunteering in a different location, Khayeletsche, a black township, with a different program, IT which teaches computer literacy to kids in grades 8-10 (I think it is a little funny that I am teaching math and computer literacy). I think that the contrast I will be exposed to of a coloured community and a black township will be such an enlightening way to learn about different groups of people in South Africa as well as their circumstances.

Another less hands on method of learning about South Africa (and its neighbors) that I have committed devoted myself to is reading. I finished both Nelson Mandela’s “Long Walk to Freedom” as well as a disturbing biography of Zimbabwe’s atrocious dictator of 27 years Robert Mugabe, a name that is not as well known as it needs to be throughout America. Mugabe, like Mandela, was a freedom fighter, who struggled for Zimbabwe’s (then known as Rhodesia) independence in the 60’s and 70’s. After more than a decade of imprisonment, he was released and became the president of a new, independent country that he planned to turn into a socialist state in 1980. He very quickly exploited his power persecuting and in some cases executing hordes of both black and white people. All the while he masked his terrible actions, corruption and cheating and those of the corrupt members of his government as a democratic system that thus legitimized his actions and beliefs. All of this has led Zimbabwe to become an economically unstable country whose land is unhealthy and yields few necessary resources and crops and has seen a significant percentage of its population leave, driven away by fear. Sadly there does not seem to be any substantial hope of change in the near future.

It was so interesting to read this book after having read about Nelson Mandela’s journey. Both men suffered a great deal and were persecuted for their honorable convictions. Each of their work spawned an opportunity to make the countries they fought so far into safe, accepting, realities; yet only one of them proved successful in doing so. Nelson Mandela’s faith, kindness, insight and ability to unite those around him regardless of race, class or creed will inspire anyone who is willing to hear his story. On the other hand, Mugabe’s horrendous exploitation of the liberation movement could only be used to support the need for colonial rule in Africa. Each country in Africa that was once under colonial rule has its own story of struggle, triumph and heartbreaking failure. I feel responsible to learn about as many of these countries and those responsible for their contemporary status because Africa is no longer just a concept for me. It is not that primitive, foreign continent on the other side of the ocean; it is a fluent reality that is still in need of immense change, but positive recognition as well.

My archaeology class has also allowed me to reach this realization. I recently read an article that pinpointed one of the primary problems with the area of study in Africa is that it creates the illusion that present-day Africa is the model used to determine the pasts of other countries and continents. It is viewed as primitive, tribal and static and therefore is believed to offer insight into what other worlds were once like. But Africa is so much more than this and the parts that are believed to remain a historical exhibition continue to develop new, complex technologies and social contexts.

Along with cultivating an appreciation of the complexity of the parts of Africa that are supposedly archaic, archaeology has also has led me to an understanding of the different processes, circumstances and resources that are necessary for a specific item to exist. It is an area of study that has started to force me to acknowledge the cultural significance of every physical thing around me, which is a lot in today’s world in comparison to Iron Age Africa in 2000 BC. It is interesting to take this class at the same time as my poverty, development and globalization class since it seems like a societal archaeological study in a way. To be so aware of where a pair of jeans comes from, who makes them, the various materials necessary to produce them, who wears them, is to recognize the various intangible meanings of what seems to be a simple physical object.

I apologize for the insufficient segue (I just learned how to spell this work that is so exciting) …..Returning to Mandela/Mugabe comparison (though Mugabe does not deserve to be place in the same sentence) I went to a shir on Monday night in Sea Point (the cool community with the three-headed rabbi that I am going back to this Shabbat) where one of the Rabbis and around 7 kids around my age discussed what it means to be free, and if being an observant Jew, grants one access to freedom. We discussed that there are two words in Hebrew for freedom that can provide insight into this question. The first word, chofesh refers to a very technical freedom. When a general in the Israeli army dismisses his or her soldiers, he says chofshi- you can go. This is the type of freedom that liberates someone from restriction. The second type cherut (if I remember correctly) does not have an English equivalent. Based on our discussion, it seemed to me that this freedom is something less definable and requires work, it is something that still includes some sort of struggle but leads to a better place then one was in originally. Discussing this with a friend on my program tonight, he decided that this could be deemed a freedom of consciousness, something that allows you to understand, to apply meaning to things that would not otherwise possess any. This type of freedom is the type that I believe my Judaism entails since there are clearly rules related to observing religious practices. Oh right, I was going to connect this to Mandela and Mugabe. So I think that Nelson Mandela and countless other brave freedom fighters were uniquely capable of achieving both types of freedom for countless people. Not only did he technically help grant rights to anyone nit white in South Africa, but he exposed everyone in the country to a non-racial tolerance that placed a new emphasis on the quality of one’s character and not the color of one’s skin. And now that I have been exposed to a person who had that same opportunity but failed to take advantage of it and instead stripped many people of a freedom that they only tasted for a short period of time, I feel compelled to find a new book about a good guy, about someone who has created both chofesh and cherut.

One last thought, I recently discovered that one of the most simple and enjoyable parts of my day is when I put on my pajama pants. If you think about it, this is the most perfect time in the whole day. Changing from normal clothes to pajamas signifies that while you have accomplished something during your day (something that required presentable clothes at least) you now have time to reflect on that, halt that physical aspect of work and wind down (you may still have school work, but now is the time for you to choose what you would like to focus on). Your day is not done, but the obligations no longer exist. You are now simple comfortable.

South African Ulpan:

Kiff – (sort of an adjective but it functions more as a general response) - pronounced: umm….kiff? – cool

“Josephine, I got us tickets to the Spice Girls reunion concert,” said Suzannah, “kiff” replied Josephine in excitement.

Cheers!

Shabbat...again

2008-02-24T13:31:00.000-08:00

This past Shabbat, I, along with a bunch of other UCT students (a few of whom are studying abroad) spent Shabbat in a suburb called Claremont with the family of the campus Rabbi who is also one of the Rabbis of the community shul, Rabbi Steele (not only is he really cool, but he has perhaps the best Jewish super hero name since Shalomman). Once again, it was wonderful to see the structure of an entirely different community and observe how it functions. The population is larger than the ones I have come across thus far but predominantly older (the group of us definitely brought down the average age by a few years). While the community has good numbers, it seems as though in 10-15 years, there may not be too many left which once again speaks to the predicament of the Cape Town Jewish community.

The Rabbi’s speech on Friday night was very interesting and inspiring to me personally until he arrived at his conclusion. He discussed the controversy surrounding the ministry of education’s decision to require a pledge of allegiance to South Africa to be said by all school children. The pledge discusses the responsibility for each citizen to remember the past injustices of their country and to accept the responsibility to prevent such things from happening in the future. For various reasons, this decision has been widely opposed by South Africans. The Rabbi said that he believed this was a very important idea for citizens to internalize for it furthers many important Jewish ideals that surround the responsibility we should all feel toward one another. I very much appreciated the simultaneous religious and universal flavor of his position.

He then decided to discuss what a Jewish pledge of allegiance might be. Based on his speech at that point, I was quite interested and excited to hear his suggestion. Proposing a slew of possible verse from the Torah that are rather well-known and important, he decided upon “Na’aseh V’nishmah” – we will do and we will listen, a phrase uttered in a recent Torah portion by the Jewish people in response to receiving the Torah. The Rabbi said that this verse is one that encapsulates the faith and trust that each Jew shall have in God. As a result of such a strong faith that does not even require understanding until after various deeds and commandments have already been adopted, the Jewish people will then lead righteous paths.

I was rather bewildered by his decision. To me it seemed as though the theme of his first half of his sermon was responsibility to one another. To then pick a phrase to define our entire faith that seems to preach allegiance to God rather than to each other was perplexing. Now I realize that these two forms of commitment are by no means mutually exclusive, however, due to this weeks portion which told the story of the sin of the Golden Calf, it seemed to me that the words Na’aseh V’nishmah do not at all indicate the full understanding of what is right in the way the Rabbi had described. Yes, I believe that the words of the Torah do allow us to live better, more righteous lives, but I also think that in order to fully reap the benefits of this text, we must understand why it allows us to do so. I would say that the Torah acts as a blueprint for how to live a meaningful life because it teaches us to be extremely aware of our actions, namely how we treat one and another. I have personally always had an issue with the phrase Na’aseh V’nishmah because it belittles the importance of the reasons behind our actions. While I believe it is important to exercise my faith in God, I also feel as though acknowledging this importance is only possible once I know why I am participating in a certain act. Thus, I would propose a different pledge that I would personally live by and that is the verse from the book of Mishlei that is carved into my Hadaiah necklace: Pales me’agel radlecha v’kol darcecha yokeinu – consider the path of your feet and all of your paths will be established. At least for myself, trust in God is not enough of a reason to do something, rather such motivation requires an understanding of how I can be a better person which will then subsequently solidify my faith.

I feel like I have been “considering the path of my feet” a lot lately, in a variety of ways. I often find myself caught up in thoughts of my past life here. I don’t think this is at all a product of homesickness because I am so glad to be here and I know that ultimately this experience will be rather significant in my personal development. Being in a new place with few links to what I am accustomed to is forcing me to analyze so many situations from afar from a new perspective. Because of that, I have started to realize that being in South Africa has become an extremely necessary, individual experience. While I have met wonderful people and have had amazing group experiences, ultimately I am here to understand myself and the decisions I have made. I do not quite know how to say this without sounding so cliché, but being rootless has provided me with the luxury to analyze the roots that have temporarily stopped growing. Though I have been here for a month, who I am is an enigma to those around me, which has forced me to uncover that mystery for myself since no one is present to do it for me. I like that. While at times, this forced-independence is a hard reality to swallow, it has and will continue to produce a large
amount of personal growth.

South African Ulpan:

Here are the two most commonly used terms in South Africa that exist within America but have more weight in this country:

Shame – This is said in response to anything to any degree of negative happening. For example if someone fails their driver’s test, an appropriate response to such an event would be “shame.”

If someone fails their driver’s test two times after the first test, a higher level of sympathy can be granted by adding an “uch” to the phrase – “uch..shame.”

Hectic – adjective - This is the rough equivalent of “crazy” in America. It is said in relationship to anything. A hard test can be hectic. A crowded dance club can be hectic. A complex philosophical idea can be hectic… I think.

Cheers!

Oh Right... School

2008-02-20T11:19:00.000-08:00

Hi friends!! So this week has introduced me to the primary reason I am here, to go to school (though this past month has certainly revealed countless other reasons). While I am sure the adventures will continue I have to say that from now on they will most likely be of a more theoretical persuasion. But don’t be too worried, there will be “discovering cool/things/people/places South Africa” adventures interspersed within the coming posts. Like for instance, this past Shabbat I went back to my surrogate family (the same place I was at for the first two shabbatot). Going there honestly already feels like going to a second home. I feel so comfortable and content there, it is really strange how that happens so quickly under such different, but yet such similar circumstances compared to what I am accustomed to. Then on Sunday, four friends and I went to the beach (sorry had to say it) to play some pick up Frisbee. Besides being extremely enjoyable, like my Jewish experience here, it allowed me to connect with random people who I would otherwise have little in common with. And that night, a bunch of us went to a concert at the botanical gardens of an African ska band. Funnily enough, African ska music is reggae with horns of different sorts in comparison to American ska which I think is punk rock or alternative or something I am not properly identifying (but not reggae) with horns… oh please don’t judge me, I listen to Celine Dion and Leann Rimes, I don’t claim to know these things...either way it was another beautiful experience and so on and so forth...but now to the theoretical adventures i have been starved for....

Classes started on Friday and so far I am extremely excited about what each one has to offer and the possibilities of what I will know by the end. I am especially excited for my history class “Liberation n Southern Africa.” Ever since arriving in Cape Town I feel like I have been compelled to analyze where I am and who I am surrounded by because of South Africa’s tumultuous past, but I have yet to develop the full context in which to place all of these observations. I think this class is going to build that framework for me and really allow me to develop an appreciation for the state of South Africa now and a simultaneous awareness of the glaring problems that are still present.

One of the reasons I am really optimistic about this class is that I have already read 600 pages of Nelson Mandela’s 750 page autobiography “Long Walk to Freedom” which is one of the core readings for the class and have gained so much from it. The story maps out his lifelong struggle for the freedom of his people which is interchangeable with the history of the entire country over the latter part of the Twentieth century. The book is incredible evidence of Mandela’s strength, insight, unfathomable faith in what and who is good and lifelong struggle for the well being of his people. He dedicated his entire life to the pursuit of freedom and equality; not only did he fight a prejudiced, terrible regime, but he often had to fight against opposition within his own race and political group. He then was imprisoned for three decades and continued to wage the battle and do so while maintaining the same grace and hope in humanity that he had thirty years prior (well I am only up to 1980, but I am pretty sure that is the direction the book is going in).

One passage of the book that really struck me (well there were like 43, 654, but here is just a taste) was when Mandela speaks about naming his second youngest daughter amidst the height of the struggle and the constant threat of imprisonment. He called her Zenani, which is translated as “what have you brought to the world?” He describes the name as a challenge to the person to whom it is given. One must fulfill their name by contributing positively to the people and the environment around them. Every part of his life was intrinsically related to his plight; it was not just about the marginalized majority (blacks, as well as any other non-Europeans) of South Africa, but about humanity’s potential to be better. This book should be required reading for citizens of the world. When I say shemoneh esrei and get to the paragraph “al hatzadikim” (on the righteous) I think I will forever think of Nelson Mandela, for he embodies the very essence of what is to be righteous, good and giving. I am excited to learn about all of the other key figures in the liberation struggle for I am sure that being introduced to a horde of figures who have followed paths similar to that of Mandela will reveal that when inequality and injustice are overwhelmed by good, the world and all its inhabitants may be able to take the necessary steps to freedom.

Another class that I am extremely excited for is an archeology class called “the roots of black identity in South Africa.” From the first few classes I can tell that archeology is one of those subjects that impacts one’s entire way of thinking. There is a lot of controversy in the field because observations, inferences of various functions and details of entire societies are based on thousand-year-old physical objects. Historical context is not fully present in these observations thus making accuracy of ones inferences uncertain. As a result, over the past forty years, archaeologists have started to study the ethnographic present in tandem with the archaeological past. In other words, by studying societies that have existed over the past few hundred years, it is possible to gain understanding of how various objects from millennia ago were utilized based on societal patterns. Just as we can look to the past to understand how we should or should not act in the present, we can use the environments we inhabit now to increase our understanding of what came before us. I find this to be an extremely interesting concept because we often perceive the past to be complete, a closed book that we open every now and then to understand where we are now and where we hope to go. But within the field of archaeology, present material certainty can be used to make additions to these old books of the past. Parts of our roots have yet to be uncovered and by using the here and now as a foundation it is possible to write more chapters to stories of the worlds we never knew. Perhaps, this paradigm shift can even teach us things about our cultures, our families, ourselves, that were previously foreign. The present can often be just as much of a teacher as the past.

Another fun class that I randomly decided to go to was this African Dance class with a friend… I am in South Africa, I may as well go crazy. While most of the people in the class are legit dancers who tip their toes at the beginning of every dance, there were a few brave uncoordinated souls who worked through the difficult sequences of leg and arm movements that seem difficult enough to do separately. Anyway, after figuring how to not move my body at once, I started to feel the rhythm as they say. It was so much fun, and I cannot wait to become a pro and simultaneously be exposed to a very rich aspect of the culture I am continuing to get to know.

So I am currently enrolled in class called “Religion, Sexuality and Gender” which is quite exciting. We are still dealing with basic gender theory which at this point has become one of my favorite pastimes but w have not gotten into the fun stuff yet. I am registered for too many credits at the moment so I may decided to unregister for this class because the workload along with volunteering (which I think starts next week) and African Dance is quite overwhelming. However I think I am going to simply just go to the class because those are three of my favorite things…gosh if only they added football to the title, that would be perfect. I feel like these things have conflicted with each other slash have been so deeply connected to each other in my experience, and to hear about how others reconcile the relationship between these three institutions from a personal as well as academic standpoint is something I am really looking forward to.

SIDEBAR: Its funny, looking at the title of that class, I just realized that I have not had too many religious/gender clashes since being here. Normally I have them daily. I think this is a result of the creativity and openness of the community that I have discussed in previous posts.

Wow I cannot wait to continue to broaden my perspective, learn new significant facts and alter my way of thinking. And I am especially excited that I get to share it with all of you.

So I am going to spice things up a little and along with your South African Ulpan word of the day I am also going to give you some important cultural fun facts about South Africa.

Word of the day (or week I should say):

Queue – noun- pronounced Q (like the letter) – a line in which people stand waiting for something

Bernard was frustrated that he had to wait in the queue for so long in the super market.

Cultural fun facts:

If you want to find eggs and skim milk in the supermarkets, you wont find them in the refrigerated section, they are sold in normal room temperature isles…scary right? But I am still alive so it cant be too bad.
People here are ridiculously good looking, mainly the men. The majority of the men here are just objectively good looking, it is so strange, I do not quite know how to handle it.

While these both are rather trivial and superficial I hope that my assessment of my intellectual adventures can cancel your judgments of me out.

As they say in South Africa..CHEERS!!

Brace Yourselves...

2008-02-14T10:04:00.000-08:00

First order of business: I have recently recognized that there is very little mention of actual people in my blog both in my posts as well as my pictures. I hope this does not make you think that I have been going on all these adventures by my lonesome self. If you are concerned about my general welfare I would like to reassure you that I have met some wonderful people here which has been one significant aspect of this whole experience so far.

Second order of business: I wrote up a whole post on Saturday night but could not post it because my internet connection was not working at the time. So you are getting two rather long posts for the price of one. But don’t worry I will not hold it against you if you don’t read the whole thing considering you all lead very busy and exciting lives too. Just to give you some options, “post #1” is about my Shabbat experience last week which I would classify as an analysis of a Jewish community and “post #2” is about my trip along the Garden Route which I would classify as adventures.

Now that this is settled...

Post #1:

Sorry to bore you with my enlightening Shabbat experiences, but you are just going to have to deal until I get new material… at least I can promise you that this post will not mention any mountains. So moving on… this Shabbat was rather incredible. I went to a community called Sea Point to stay with an Israeli girl named Chagit who is employed by the Jewish agency to help bring Israel education and pride to the Cape town Jewish community. Prior to my arrival I was told by multiple parties that Sea Point is known throughout all of the Cape Town Jewish communities as “the place to be.” They have kosher restaurants, bakeries, imported Israeli bachurim, lots of classes and shiurim, a few shuls to choose from etc. So with all the build up, I was expecting to enter to New York of Cape Town.

Upon arriving at the shul on Friday evening I noticed that there were maybe around 100 people present. Though this is quite a large number I was expecting a much larger populace. Based on a variety of experiences throughout Shabbat I learned that the entirety of the Cape Town community is shrinking. Even in the places that seem to have it all, relative to other communities they are quite small and lack a youthful presence. The strange thing about this glaring reality is that apparently (and this is only word of mouth so it may not be exact) 90% of Jewish youth in Cape Town participate in the Jewish educational system. So while very few teenagers and young adults seem to be observant, they are for the most part knowledgeable of both their nation’s history and rituals. I would also venture to say that if they all attend Jewish day school, than their social groups must be inherently Jewish. As a result I am quite confused as to why there is such a small amount of kids who not only do not come to shul, but as I have learned, are not involved in the Jewish community at large.

The reason why the nature of the Cape Town community is of interest to me is because in America, the reason why so many people are not very observant is because of the lack of access to Jewish knowledge and education. This observation is by no means a judgment made on either community, for I personally do not measure anyone’s Judaism against others or say that it must be expressed in certain venues. Rather I am trying to construct the question of why, education, something that is scarce in America and is pinpointed as one of the primary reasons why American Judaism is an endangered religion, can be abundant in a different community, Cape Town, that seems to attract even less active, youth involvement? ( I sincerely hope that the phrasing of this question is not offensive to anyone, but if you have any insight, please share it with me).

One of the reasons I wanted to draw attention to the state of the Cape Town community is because the three wonderful Shabbat experiences I have had so far seem to all be direct responses to this exact issue. The shul that I attended this Shabbat has 3 different rabbis. One is the official rabbi of the shul and the other two are involved in the educational system. However the three of them all work in tandem to bring a unique diversity to the community that I have never seen before. Usually, the rabbi of the shul is the end all and be all, the central, authoritative figure whose decisions are accepted by community members. However in Beit Midrash Morasha, there are three voices that are all heard by the community. While this is a very recent development since the third rabbi arrived only six weeks ago, the interaction that I observed between the rabbis themselves as well as with the community members was really extraordinary. All three rabbis are very dynamic energetic figures whose words not only teach but truly inspire the congregants.

On Friday night, when the rabbi ascended the bimah to speak, he first congratulated the congregation on a beautiful davening which I was very moved by because seldom are people’s efforts to attend shul services and subsequently contribute a great deal of spirit to the service acknowledged. He proceeded to sepak beautifully about how while a lot of the decisions we make in our lives are between kadosh and chol (sacred and profane, which is a reference to havdalah and the difference between Shabbat and the rest of the week), this framework limits us to a very black and white way of thinking. Sometimes decisions must be made between kadosh and kadosh (a reference made to the havdalah that is said between Shabbat and a holiday that directly follows). Life is not always about doing something or not doing something, rather it is often about doing something in one way or doing it in another way. For example, the question should not be do I give to charity or not, instead the question should be should I give to this charity or that charity. By acknowledging the holy aspects of our lives that should be second nature to us, we are able to distinguish between different types of holiness, different types of spirituality as opposed to holiness or lack their of. I do not know if I fully do justice to what he said but I hope this summary is somewhat comprehensible because I was sincerely touched by his words and the passion with which he said them.

After a wonderful service that once again stabilized the roots that I have come to grow here during Shabbat, there was a special meal set up in the shul for “young couples and singles” as was publicized. I was a little skeptical of the title, but it turned out to be each rabbi and their family, a group of young married couples and all of the Israelis who are there to bring life to the community and me. The meals was beautiful and there was even a game set up where each person was given the name of a Jewish personality and they had to make an argument for why they were the most significant figure in Jewish history. The finalists were Rav Soleveichik, Rav Kook and the Marx Brothers Two of the three people who stood up to argue their case to all of the participants were the rabbis. To hear them make their arguments, especially for the Marx Brothers, to hear them take on such an informal and fun role at an informal and relaxed communal event continued to provide me with an understanding of how special this community and its leaders are. The ruach, the spirit, that was created on Friday night continued to grow on Shabbat day.

After the morning davening, there was a beautiful Kiddush bracha (as they call it in South Africa, don’t worry you will get another word at the end as well since you were not prepared this early) with so much wonderful food. I ate so well and so much over all of Shabbat which I have decided will be my plan for every Shabbat so that I can stock up on all my nutrients for the rest of the week. Afterwards, there was a remarkable shiur given by all three rabbis together. In a forum fashion, they discussed the question of whether the institution of the shul is for the benefit of the community or the individual. Each rabbi gave beautiful answers to this question that all presented different perspectives on the purpose of a shul that I had not yet thought of before. One of the rabbis discussed the importance of the shul as a gathering place for the community, but one must incorporate Judaism into all aspects of their life in order to grow spiritually and thus the outside world was the primary space for the Jewish experience of the individual. Another expanded upon this point by saying that while this is true, the shul can also act as a venue in which to practice and acknowledge all of those facets of the individual Jewish experience. The third raised the question that if a shul has to cater to so many different people with a variety of beliefs and practices than how can one fully be comfortable and gain as much as possible from being in shul. Many other interesting points were made, but I am just trying to convey the diversity of opinions among the communal leaders.

I was in awe not only of the rabbis and their ability to listen to each other while still holding some sort of collective authoritative position, but also of the congregants who all added their opinions into the conversation as well. This went on for around an hour and a half and the fifty or so people who were present were all extremely attentive and engaged. I have never been exposed to a community, whose leaders and members are all so willing to discuss such relevant topics in such a passionate way. I was also stunned by the willingness of the rabbis to all give their own authoritative opinions about the same important topic. This type of dynamic does not exist in the Jewish world. If other communities adopted this practice, where leaders cooperate with and listen to each other for the purpose of strengthening the community, the Jewish community could be a much more open and interesting institution. What struck me most about this whole situation was that within orthodoxy specifically, there is such a strong sentiment of doing things in a specific way and often defining that specific way by the terms set by the rabbi. Yet here there was a choice, an agency within ideas and arguably within practice that was offered to the members, who also were able to have a voice within this discussion.

Communities are too often founded on sameness, both in belief and practice. While I understand that the reason for this is to sustain tradition and history, I cannot help but think that embracing diversity within these communities would draw more people into them. Each person is inspired in a different way and by different things. It is also important to note that each persons Jewish experience is the product of different circumstances and a different amount of access to important resources. Taking all this into account it would seem obvious to me that the nature of a community should not only be founded upon the things that we share, but the things that differentiate us as well. While I understand this can get tricky because there are certainly difference among peoples beliefs and practices that may not mesh well in a communal setting, it seems to me that even within a group of people who define themselves similarly there is so much difference that is too often ignored.

The shiur was followed by a wonderful lunch at the house of one of the rabbis, where we had an enthralling discussion about where in the body (if at all) the neshama (the Jewish soul) lies. One idea that spoke to me that I would like to share is that it is the part of us that forces us to react to situations using our emotional and spiritual instincts rather than our animalistic ones. Many wonderful points were made and the list of intangible souvenirs received over this past Shabbat continued to grow.

For Seudat Shelishit (Saturday dinner), a special women’s meal was held. About thirty women from the community gathered together to talk, sing and eat. Once again an interesting conversation was initiated about the nature, meaning and experience of happiness which is a reference to the start of the month of Adar in which we are supposed to be happy. Each made a significant to the conversation; each thing that was said was something that I could relate to or was something that I strive to relate to. We discussed the ideas of balance, of working hard to achieve happiness, of comfort, of happiness resulting form that of others etc. While I know that this was a very cliché conversation for Jewish women, it was a truly enlightening and rewarding experience. To see the amount of involvement among all members of the community throughout Shabbat was so amazing and is something that I can only hope is somewhat present in the community that I decided to commit myself to later in life (shameless plug: come join our pluralistic moshav.. we can talk about this later).

Once again, when havdalah rolled around, which took place in the shul with musical accompaniment, I could physically feel the boundary between kadosh and chol. This Shabbat was incredible for so many reasons. While I know that all of the things that occurred this Shabbat do not happen every week, I could sense the uniqueness of this community. The primary reason why there is so much activity in Sea Point is a result of the lack of involvement among its members. There are so many efforts made to strengthen a community when it is in need of strengthening. As a result of this it seems rather easy to just maintain the status quo of a community when there is no crisis, but believe this type of shul, this type of leadership, this type of activity, this type of mentality could succeed in other communities as well. It seems like creative measures are often taken only when they need to be, but it seems to me that they always need to be so that people’s faith can constantly be strengthened, constantly be challenged. I understand that different types of people keep different levels of observance an I am not at all saying that everyone should keep a certain level. What I am saying is that it seems to me that if we were attempting to come up with novel ideas and events that brought the community together and challenged the beliefs of the individual simultaneously in some way or another, the communities we are a part of would offer more to its members and be stronger and more diverse.

South African Ulpan word of the day:

Just now – phrase – pronounced just now – a time specific phrase that refers to any period of time between a few hours and never. If someone says this to you chances are they will not be doing whatever it is they say they are for quite a while.

Though the Jack the plumber said that he would come fix the toilet just now, he did not come for another two weeks.

As Talie says, Peace, Love and Torah!

You can take a little break now.....

Post #2:

On Sunday morning, I, along with five friends, packed into a six person Zephira sedan and began traveling toward the Garden route, a stretch of beautiful beaches, mountains…obviously, forests and more strung together along the southern coast of South Africa. The seven hour drive to the furthest point was filled with majestic landscapes and scenery that strangely transformed from endless shorelines to tall mountains decorated with trees to empty plains of various shades of green to small hills covered in colorful clumps of rickety township homes. The weather changed just as quickly starting as a strong rain, morphing into a light drizzle and finally clearing completely making room for the sun to shine. Both experiences were so strange and definitely contributed to my confusion regarding the identity of South Africa, both physically and whatever is the appropriate opposite of physically in this context that I cannot think of at the moment. Accompanied by good music, interesting conversation and a bizarrely long pear roll (the best snack ever), the six of us attempted to make sense of this foreign country and culture with which we continue to try to acquaint ourselves.

Once we arrived at our hostel in Storms River at around seven, we settled into an awesome little shack made out of bamboo, ate a feast of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, granola bars and apples..mmmm, played pictionary by candlelight since the returning rain caused a blackout and went to sleep in preparation for the next few days adventures.

The next morning, the rain finally decided to stop right when we were we decided to go ziplining through the forest. Strapped into cool looking harnesses and helmets that made us all feel pretty hard core and thirty meters in the air (which is two or three times that measurement in feet) we flew through a beautiful variety of trees. The group of us were joined by an older South African couple named Aiden and Carol McNamara. It was so entertaining to see people who must have been in their sixties or seventies being so adventurous; seeing them made me realize that awesome experiences do not have to be confined to going abroad in college, but can be had any place and at any age. Following ziplining, we traveled to Tsitsikamma National Park where we decided to climb out onto a beautiful collection of rocks that sat on the shoreline of the Indian ocean. I had never seen rocks with so many different colors and jagged layers, they were beautiful and the view that they contributed to as a whole which included beach and mountains was collectively breathtaking.

While I realize I comment on the beauty of similar things so often in this blog, I would like you to know that I do not mean it in a purely physical way. Ever since being here I have developed a completely different type of faith that I have never had before; a faith in beauty, in the purity and simplicity of my surroundings that somehow make me happy, make me feel safe and content. While I can often connect this newfound faith to Judaism, I think that it also stands on its own in a very secular way. It is amazing to just be able to look at everything that is natural and have it affect you in such a positive way.

We then went on a really nice hike around the shoreline heading toward a waterfall. In the midst of our hike, we discovered a giant, deep cave that was beautiful and scary and reminded a few of us of the kind of adventures had by the characters in the show Lost. From then on we decided to think of ourselves in that way and imagined dramatic music playing in the background and scary unidentifiable creatures lurking behind the rocks. After an hour and a half of hiking and marveling at our surroundings, we arrived at the waterfall. Once we got there it started to pour and while it was extremely uncomfortable and cold at first, it quickly made the hike more exciting. Again I think that the reason for this can be attributed to my newfound faith in what is naturally around me. The hike back was quite enjoyable and pretty of course as we sang Disney songs and discussed what we dreamed of eating once we survived our hike. Once we completed it we changed into dry clothes and drove another hour to the town we were staying in that night called Knysna.

The following day, we visited an Elephant park and got to bond with a bunch of “ellies” as they were called by the tour guides. We got to observe, touch and feed them. It was an extremely humbling experience to be in the presence of living beings that are so much larger than humans. We constantly think that we are the most advanced and powerful species, that all others exist for whatever purpose we define for them. But these animals are so large, so complex; they have their own language, their own societies and yet they are demeaned, shrunk down to only their ivory tusks which are a prized commodity. As a result, elephants have been hunted for centuries simply to obtain their tusks. The majority of these humungous, friendly creatures are killed because of a tiny part of their physical make up will turn a profit. It was extremely sad to learn about this reality, to learn about the ownership that people often take of things, even lives that do not belong to them, to learn that people cannot acknowledge the worth of all the earths inhabitants and only look out for their own interest. But watching the elephants interact with not only each other but the human onlookers and learning that they have an average intelligence index over 100 made me understand that every species can work together, can relate to each other somehow, if we allow that progression to take place instead of placing ourselves atop the hierarchy of living things. Though this is quite a stretch, I must say that it was interesting to find out about the persecution of the elephants in a location where the relationships between different races seem to mirror the ones that exist between different species. I kept thinking about how certain people clearly make the same judgments and take the same action against their own kind, but due to a different skin color, this similarity is not acknowledged. Sorry for constantly overwhelming you with unnecessary analysis, but being in South Africa and being affected by so many different things, I feel like I need to pour out my mush of feelings and thoughts to fully communicate all the dimensions of this experience.

Anyway, staying with the theme of awesome animals we proceeded to visit Monkeyland. There we were able to see, touch, eat some snacks with a bunch of different kinds of moneys. They were also extremely interesting to watch and their ability to interact with humans confirmed the thoughts that I had while at the elephant park. When we returned to the hostel we decided to play Frisbee by the waterfront as the sun was setting which was stunning (I am trying to use lots of different synonyms now for beautiful since I use that word so often, so I hope you appreciate my efforts).

The amazing things that we had done and seen up until this point were all leading up to Wednesday, the day that we had decided to jump out of a plane and skydive. In the morning we all went to the beach to relax in preparation for our crazy pursuit. In the afternoon we arrived at the airfield in Plettenburg Bay prepared to touch the sky, prepared to defy gravity, talk to god and infiltrate a part of the world that up until now seemed uninfiltratable (can we just pretend this is a word?). Well sadly, the fluctuation of the wind prevented us from doing so. Though we waited for conditions to become more consistent and at one point were even allowed to put the harnesses on, the weather had different plans for us. A little dejected and disappointed we drove to our last night’s location, an old train converted into a hostel that sat right on the beach in a beautiful Mossel Bay.

Arriving at this awesome location I realized that while I am positive skydiving would have been an amazing experience, I did a huge amount of awesome things, seen so many magnificent sights and got to know an awesome group of people much better. Sitting on the beach with a new exquisite view to gaze at, I could not feel like I missed out on anything. I AM IN AFRICA!!! With that attitude the six of us decided to just hang out on the beach and build a fire (or attempt to at least) under the stars into the morning. Singing nineties songs and going into the freezing cold ocean (and for some of us watching people go into the freezing ocean a.k.a. me) I realized how positive the whole experience was and how many amazing things I had seen in such a short period of time.

This trip capped off an almost-month-long period of the beginning of a new word that I have been introduced to. While I am still constantly consumed by different emotions, surrounded by different people and find myself in a variety of new locations, I do feel like I have made progress, I have begun to understand things that I had no means of understanding almost one month ago. I have explored and experienced my surroundings first hand and have grown so much as a result, but I think it is time to put it all into an academic context (through classes which start tomorrow) and into a interactive context (volunteering). I cannot even imagine the amazing lesions that I will learn as a result of this next chapter.

Since you already learned a word and also survived a huge amount of text I am not going to give you a word, rather I am going to teach you how to communicate with people on the road while driving in South Africa..on the left side of the road of course. When someone wants to pass you, it is common practice to move over to the shoulder and as the passer takes the lead, they blink their hazard lights in gratitude. Sometimes the person who let the other car pass them, will then blink their hazard lights in thanks of the passers thanks. It is all very nice and makes you feel interestingly connected to people you will never meet.

Uch… Stupid Giants!

Stupid Giants!

2008-02-07T14:22:00.000-08:00

So the past week has been a little less eventful than past weeks. We had our international student orientation which was ridiculously unnecessary since I have been here for a few weeks and have already learned the ways of the land on my own, gosh I am practically South African. I don’t actually believe that but after seeing another 400 Americans show up this week and constantly ask stupid questions that everyone on my program knows the answers to, it instilled a superiority complex within all of us. Its weird to think I have been in South Africa long enough to stop asking dumb questions…well, in theory at least.

Anyway, on Sunday, the first day of orientation, around 400 American students loaded busses to go on a tour of the Cape Peninsula which is a bunch of pretty beaches and, yup you guessed it, mountains that outline the coast of Cape Town. It was so strange to get on and off of a bus looking at beautiful places. It was honestly the first time I have felt like a tourist since being here, and it makes me quite happy that I am in Africa and do not feel completely incapacitated. The beaches were beautiful and climbing mountains has just become routine, so I do not even know if that is worth commenting on at this point. But, something that made the whole experience really worthwhile (Brian, get excited) was that I saw African penguins on the beach. It was so strange to see penguins on a beach, but they were adorable and quite entertaining. Penguins definitely lead interesting lives. I was focusing my attention toward one in particular who was trying to make a move on another penguin and got rejected…but he was persistent and tried again. Sadly, he once again, his pursuit failed and he seemed rather dejected. I felt emotionally attached to this penguin, so I named him George. Wherever George is, I hope he is feeling a little better.

Anyway, though parts of orientation were unnecessary, I can now officially say that I know my way around the campus of UCT which is great. It is so beautiful, I hope I do not get too distracted and forget to go to class. So obviously Table Mountain is in the background and upper campus rests on a hill, so you can see the elaborate buildings adorned with ivy. You just feel smart walking around the campus. Along with a bunch of people, I climbed up to the Cecil Rhodes Memorial. Looking out, you can see what seems to be the whole of Cape Town. I realized at that point that I do not think I will ever be desensitized to the beauty that surrounds me.

Orientation did however allow me to get very excited about my classes. Though I have gained so much from this experience, I feel as though I have had to actively search for the meaning and cultural significance of each situation. I have forgotten how fulfilling intellectual stimulation through facts, through context can be. The classes I am taking that I believe will open this world to me once more are: A sociology course called “Poverty, Development and Globalization;” a history class called “Liberation in Southern Africa;” a religion class called “Religion, Sexuality and Gender” (shocker..I know); and lastly an Archaeology class called “The Roots of Black Identity: The People of South Africa” (I think we get to dig stuff up for this one). So it seems that once I start classes and stop discovering the wonders of Cape Town, I will have lots more interesting stories and insights to share. I cannot wait to have an academic grasp of the culture and people of this country.

On Wednesday, we got the opportunity to visit volunteer sites of the primary campus community service group. One of the first reasons I considered coming to South Africa was because I saw a brochure for this organization, SHAWCO, at a fair of some sort during my first semester as a sophomore. They have a variety of projects to choose from: tutoring young kids and older kids in a variety of subjects, HIV/AIDS education, working in a medical clinic etc. I visited a community center in Kensington, a colored (this I not a racist term in South Africa, rather it refers to a large percentage of the population that is not white or dark enough to be considered black) community. We were only there for about a half hour listening to the different options in that area. Oh and for like ten seconds, they took us to a room to watch little kids sleep. I am pretty sure the planners added that part to emphasize the cute factor. While they were adorable, I think that I would prefer to work with older kids, high school age perhaps. I think that working with little kids would be extremely educational and fun, but I think it might be more challenging, eye-opening and rewarding to volunteer with older kids.

While our visit to Kensington was brief, I could sense that volunteering will become a very significant part of this experience. I want to understand the problems that I keep bringing up from first-hand experience. But I also want to be exposed to the rich culture that I am told exists in these communities. I do not want to drive through areas where townships and poor communities are visible and simply cringe and feel lucky, I want to meet people, contextualize their lives in a way that is not relative to my own. It is so hard to not victimize, to not perceive these people as the exact opposite of all that I am, but still feel compassion and desire to make a difference. It is not about simply helping, it is about understanding, it is about learning from each other. I will be just as much a student as I will be a teacher.

Continuing on with the theme of a multi-dimensional learning experience, today I explored a few museums and had an all around intellectual experience. In the morning we visited the District Six Museum, a museum that documents the tumultuous past of the Sixth Municipal District of Cap Town through pictures, personal narrative and an abundance of important facts. In the mid 20^th century District Six was a melting pot of cultures, religions and races. But in 1966 it was deemed a white-only area and 60,000 people were removed from there homes, destroying the rich lives led by so many within it. Reading the personal stories of the people who were forced out of their land into unsanitary, awful conditions, I began to see the personal ramifications of Apartheid more so than the cultural norms that have been ingrained in South Africa as a result. The reality of unwarranted superiority and hatred became more tangible today; the reality of pain and suffering began to make me question human’s capacity to do what is good.

In the afternoon, we visited the South African Jewish Museum which acted as an interesting contrast. While the story of District Six is one of loss and rootlessness, the story of the Jews of South Africa is one of hope and the setting of a strong foundation. The museum offered a comprehensive history of Judaism as well as South African Jews, a breathtaking photography exhibit of pictures taken of different rituals of various religions, a life size model of a European Shtetl and more.

After both experiences, in my head I attempted to connect the two narratives. While it is a long shot, this is what I came up with. I think that each population fostered a deep appreciation for their community, history and those who shared these things with them; district six was rife with spirit and pride while Jews in South Africa have sustained their connections to each other and to their faith. Both histories have been interrupted by selfishness, by greed, by hate. While District Six and World Jewry both have their issues, it seemed to me that each group subsisted on the grounds of feeling responsible for one another and on the grounds that because fulfillment could be found in multiple ways, that they were happy with what they had. This joint responsibility compelled me to not only know more, but to do more, to actively accept my responsibility on this chain. I hope that volunteering will be one of the many ways to do this.

After the museums, we went to a very cool, independent book store to hear a well-known South African historian, named Martin Meredith, speak. While I do not believe that I possess the foundation of knowledge of South African history to fully understand his words, his discussion of the flaws of Cecil Rhodes and the awful atrocities being committed by Zimbabwe’s horrible, fascist leader, Robert Mugabe strengthened my hunger for understanding. I know that I speak of this hunger rather often and it may seem a little trivial, but I sincerely feel a need to know where I am for the sake of understanding and of appreciating what I have and hopefully what I may do in the future. It is not ok that Robert Mugabe willingly compares himself to Hitler and few people in the world know about him. It is not ok that we focus on one or two specific problematic issues in the world and deem ourselves informed of human suffering and inequality. It is rampant, it is not just in Iraq, in Afghanistan, in Darfur. Pain and lack of agency exist in countless places and until we recognize that these problems cannot just be fixed but rather our expectations of leadership, of each other need to change. This is our responsibility.

Uch sorry for getting all preachy again. I am very aware that saying these things does not mean that I have made any contribution to the world, but I hope that documenting this and thinking it through does motivate me to know and do something to fulfill my obligation to the world around me. One tiny miniscule thing I did to start this process is buy Nelson Mandela’s 700 page memoir and Martin Meredith’s analysis of Mugabe. I am certain that further posts will reference these two books, along with the facts and insights I learn from classes.

Well off to a new community called Sea Point for Shabbat followed by a five day trip next week along the Garden route, a trail that outlines the bottom coast of South Africa involving more beaches, mountains, animals and I think even caves. I am hoping to have more interesting insights to share with you afterward. Oh right and then next Friday begins classes…I knew I was hear for some reason.

Way to go, you earned another word to add to your growing South African vocabulary:

Row – noun – pronounced RO – an argument

Suzanna, a huge New York Giants fan, and Quinton, a huge Philadelphia Eagles fan, got into a row after the stupid Giants won the Super Bowl.

Uch!!

Uch..more mountains

2008-02-02T14:13:00.000-08:00

So while the entry you are about to read is based on climbing another mountain and is once again a little rambly, I would say that no other experience I have had since being here compares to this one.

Most pictures that you see of Cape Town include Table Mountain. It is a central geographical landmark of the city and is so enormous that it is impossible to ignore, you can try but you will most likely fail (sorry for the pessimism but I have tried it and I don’t think its worth getting your hopes up). Well on Friday I took a great deal of pictures excluding Table Mountain from the background. This is because on Friday, finally equipped with appropriate footwear, I climbed Table Mountain (sorry if this sounds too dramatic but I need some sort of build up for this story to convey its significance).

Look up at it from the starting point, I could not fathom how we were going to reach the peak, but because it was out of mental reach, I was excited to finally get a little bit of exercise. So begun our five hour trek up the mountain. Along the way, it was incredible to see what lay below get smaller and smaller and all of the buildings melt into each other. I actively participated in a process in which the countless separate creations of the world transformed into one united entity. Looking out onto all the wonders of nature as well as man (people I should say) made me feel above the world; above conflict, above stress, above any form of negativity. The world stops after a certain point, the point where there is no longer movement. It is a paradox that such intense stillness can reveal the endless progress of an entire city. Having climbed from the ground, from the root of physicality, and advancing to the top of all that has grown from that root, where there is no more up, was one of the most spiritual experiences I have ever had.

Looking ahead from the peak of the mountain, after hours of exerting more energy and sweat than I thought my body had the capacity to contain, I noticed we were on the same level as the two fain clouds that suspiciously rested in the sky. By the transitive property it seemed as though we were in the sky, celestial beings perhaps. I think a part of me understood why when people make physical references to heaven they refer to the sky, for there is nothing above it. Protection seems so feasible from there, because every part of the world is visible..or at least Cape Town.

As you can tell my mind was in another place throughout the hike. But to give you a more practical grasp on the situation, we were told that we were going to be at the bottom of the mountain by four o’clock which would have left plenty of time to get to where me and my new Shobbos buddy, Seth, needed to be for the weekend (we were going to get picked up at 4:30). But just in case we packed all of our stuff for the weekend with us. After having no concept of time after reaching the top, I noticed it was 3:05, and we were told that we would have plenty of time to relish our feat once arrived. So I admit, my thoughts began to focus in a different direction. The stress I thought did not exist at the top of the world began to creep its way inside my head. After a good forty-five minutes at the top we began to make our way down. After walking for another twenty minutes we were given the choice to take a cable car down to the bottom or hike a steep path down. Seth and I inquired about which way would be quicker and we were told since there may be a line for the cable car, that if we could manage running down the mountain we could do it in a half hour.

Well, I understood before coming to South Africa that I was entering a country governed by the Metric system and that I would thus need to adjust to celsius and meters, but apparently the “minute” measurement in South Africa is code for 3 minutes. This was not doable by any means in the time we were told. As we ran down the mountain, jumping from rock to rock, I could feel my knees buckling from the rather quick pace that my buddy was not conditioned to handle. With little hiking experience, I RAN down a mountain, a mountain I was mentally preparing myself to fall down. With the help of my adventure partner’s positive attitude and hiking advice, it took around an hour and fifteen minutes to complete this task, one that left our legs immobile and minds equally exhausted. My legs remain in the same state, but at least my limbs feel somewhat more attached than they did at that time.

Arriving at the bottom, I cannot express the overwhelming relief that was present everywhere in my body, besides for my shaking knees. It was 5:45 and we had no idea how we were going to get to Milnerton, our destination for Shabbat (the same place as last week which brings Shabbat in at 6:30), nor did we know how far away we were from it. We found a taxi and luckily were told that it was only a twenty minute drive. So using every last rand (South African currency) we had, we rode toward Shabbat. Sweaty, sandy and drained, we arrived after taking a little time to figure out where we needed to be. Walking up to the property, we were told that a security concern was forcing people to walk a few blocks out of the way to get to the entrance. We finally arrived at the house at 6:23, shoeless so as not to spread sand throughout the house of our gracious host. I do not think it is possible to show up at a house of people you do not know so well in a more disgusting and uncivilized state. But we were welcomed with open arms (figurative open arms, I don’t think anyone would have been willing to touch us). We both showered very quickly and got dressed within a ten minute span and made it downstairs for davening.

I hope these details offer you some kind of insight into how amazing it felt to be clean, on flat ground and in familiar territory. As great as last Friday night davening was, this was incomparably better. Everything works out, if you will it into working out. After eight hours of exhaustion and sunburns, it was Shabbat, it was time to rest. It was time to focus on only the good, and there was so much. I thought about so many amazing experiences I have had over the past week and a half, I thought about the amazing people I have met both on my program and within the community surrounding me at the time, I thought about the beautiful view I saw that same day that made me understand what it must have been like to create the world and lay back and appreciate it. This definitely qualified as an adventure in Cape Town.

The adventure continued as we sat down to dinner with 30 people, and the power proceeded to go out during kiddush. Seth and I just looked at each other and laughed, as the prayer just continued. The whole meal and conversations that followed took place using the light of the Shobbos candles. Nothing seemed that much more difficult because the power was out, because Shobbos is a time to put aside all of your concerns and just embrace the people you are around, the life you live and the delicious food set before you.

Being in this place, at the house of the Hack family for the second week in a row, I felt like a part of the community. I knew some of the people and I met new ones, and simply felt at home. The distance was completely suppressed underneath the shared prayers, foods and Jewish hospitality and graciousness. I cannot tell you how much more so (kal va’chomer) I appreciated all of this after constantly being warned about always taking the proper safety precautions. To be able to go to the house of strangers and feel completely safe being there, being around all of the other people present and leaving my bag in a room accessible to anyone, just added to my joy. To know that there are people that are so wonderful and willing to create a home for strangers on the simply basis that they are Jewish is beyond comprehension. I am so thankful to have this community and specifically this family as a part of my South African experience

Over the entirety of this Shabbat, I was happy, content, for countless reasons that I hope I have conveyed. Saying havdalah with a guitar and recorder playing in the background, I fully understood the distinction between chol and kadosh, or for you sociology majors, profane and sacred. This Shabbat was pure kadosh, pure sacredness, and I hope that somehow it can last beyond this one day. Based on all the great things I have experiences over the past eleven days, I have a hunch it may... at least in my knees.

South African word of the day:

serviette - noun - pronounced surv-ee-ET..I think - napkin

Example sentence:

Johannah wiped the chocolate off of her face using a serviette.

I wish you all the same kadosh!

2008-01-31T15:19:00.001-08:00

So today I took a half a day off from the many exploratory adventures that I have had over the past ten days. I had not stopped to think for an extended period of time since getting off the plane, maybe even getting on the plane, and I made the conscious decision that this was something I must do…oh but then I went to the beach to watch a pretty sunset.

Tuesday and Wednesday however were action packed days. I and 11 other people on my program decided to visit the wine country of South Africa: Stellenbosch. The calmness, beauty and purity of the town reminded me of Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard. But I have learned that in a country with such a volatile and complex history, you can’t accept anything at face value. Everything in Stellenbosch was white, the people, the cars, the beautiful buildings, everything. The official language remains Afrikaans (a Dutch language adopted by South Africa under oppressive, racist, Dutch rule) though the dominance of the language was supposed to fade out of the country when Apartheid ended. While playing Frisbee in open fields, walking around the campus of a breathtaking university, hiking up the most beautiful hills to catch a panoramic view of several stunning vineyards, it was easy to forget that relaxation was equivalent to lack of progress, and more literally to racism and social hierarchy. It is not possible to appreciate all that this town has to offer without recognizing the glaring problems. The juxtaposition of experiences is starting to make me realize how much I want to understand the context of everything around me. I want to understand how Stellenbosch can be what it is and be a ten minute drive from Khayelitsha, a black township that spans a few square miles and has an estimated 500,00 to 1 million residents.

From afar the houses look to be made out of a variety of materials including tin, cardboard, cloth etc and are extremely close together. There is a lot of trash everywhere and constant human traffic.. and I only saw this from the highway. There is such clear inequality that it seems is so often ignored. I have only been in this country for a little over a week and I am fully aware that I have no right to make moral judgments on a culture, a country, a government that I have no knowledge of, but I do think that the bizarre apathy that I encountered in Stellenbosh seems to be a present sentiment keeping Apartheid alive even though it ended 15 years ago. I am starting to see why it takes a much larger amount of time to destroy ideology and subsequently resource distribution and ingrained prejudices than it does to simply say that an oppressive political system no longer governs a society.

Some history taken from wikipedia about townships in general and Khayelitsha (sorry if that insults the academic process I am supposed to embrace after being in college but deal with it):

During the Apartheid Era blacks were evicted from properties that were in areas designated as "white only" and forced to move into townships. Legislation that enabled the Apartheid government to do this included the Group Areas Act. Forced removal from city centers to townships has continued in post-apartheid South Africa. The difference is that under apartheid all black people faced forced removals to townships while now it is only the poor living in shack settlements that face eviction to townships on the peripheries of cities. In Cape Town and Durban this has given rise to mass resistance.

The Group Areas Act, passed in the 1950s, prohibited Blacks from living in the cities. The discrimination and black population control by the apartheid regime did not prevent blacks from settling in the outskirts of Cape Town. After the scrapping of pass laws in 1987 many blacks, mainly Xhosas, moved into areas around Cape Town in search of work. By this time many blacks were already illegally settled in townships (black neighborhood) like Nyanga and Crossroads. As the black population grew, the apartheid regime sought to solve the problem by establishing new black neighborhoods.

So I guess this is where I don’t have the right to have an opinion because I am clearly infusing American and I suppose Jewish ideals into a situation that is built upon separate norms. But I think on some level I am approaching this from a very universal human perspective. Regardless of the circumstances that bring about the racism that is becoming more and more apparent here, I have trouble understanding why it is so hard for people accept this. Every person deserves to be treated with dignity, as an equal. And there are so many different levels upon which that dignity needs to materialize.

SIDEBAR: I am currently reading Jonathan Sacks’ book “The Dignity of Difference” which is definitely influencing a lot of feelings I have been having about using my own societal and religious norms to analyze the norms of different cultures and societies. The book is definitely offering another important perspective to consider within all of these experiences (great recommendation Chippy).

It baffles me how Stellenbosch and Kahyelitshe can be neighboring areas. I know that in other countries there are economically diverse areas, but not to this extent. Not only is the economic gap huge in these areas, but there seems to be such a lack of recognition of these differences. Society here seems so hierarchal, but worse people seem content with vertical relationships. I feel as though I have encountered this apathy before, but I have never witnessed its ramifications so closely…and that was only from the safe distance of the highway. I need to know more. I need to make sure that I in no way contribute to that sense of apathy and ignorance.

As amazing as South Africa is, I must say, much of my wonderful, beautiful experiences are constantly juxtaposed with moments of understanding and of anger toward the divisions that are negatively impacting so many people. I embrace this challenge, this discomfort.

In Jonathan Sacks book he discusses how Western societies polarize the concept of charity and justice. In our world, if we have money and give some to a worthy cause we deem it charity; we deem ourselves helpers, as though we have taken it upon ourselves to do a good deed. The word justice infers responsibility to a worthy cause, yet we normally do not place this responsibility on our shoulders. We see helping those less fortunate, those below us as recipients of our good well. Sacks says that this cannot be the norm, for charity and justice are one in the same. They create the idea of tzedakah which suggests that every human is responsible for another, which suggests that giving money, time or some other form of assistance to those with fewer resources than ourselves must be seen as an obligation in order for us to make the world work in the cyclical way that it should, in a way that encourages compensating for weakness by having access to others’ strength. We all have something to gain from each other, the giver just as much as the recipient. Most of you have probably heard me say this quote before but I feel as though it is quite relevant here.

“If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time, but if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”

That in my mind sums up the necessary difference between charity and justice. It is not about helping but rather working together and learning and gaining from each others own experiences. If we acknowledge each persons experience we acknowledge their right to all the resources necessary to survive, and can therefore start to think about how t equitably distribute them.

Ok well I am off tomorrow to climb a huge mountain.

South African Ulpan Word of the Day:

Jersey – noun – pronounced jer-ZEY – wool sweater

Example Sentence:

Travis brought three jerseys with him to Antarctica because it was very cold there.

Yea, I am totally improving.

Shabbat Shalom!

Some REAL Adventures!

2008-01-28T23:55:00.000-08:00

Hello all,

I would like to let you all know first and foremost that it is currently the month of January and two days ago I spent the day on a beach and currently have a nice tan. But its ok because there are certainly good things to focus on in other cold parts of the world like umm… you know, health, family and friends. Sorry for rubbing it in like that sunscreen I’ve had to put on everyday. Oh sorry am I doing it again?

Well anyway the past few days have been action-packed, idea-packed, just packed in general. This past weekend I spent Shabbat with a family who opens their house every week to anyone who wants to come and spend a spirited, wonderful Shabbat together. They have a shul on their property, the tastiest food I have had since being here (which I guess is not hard when living off rice crispies and salad) and people, mostly teenagers, from a variety of communities within Cape Town. I gathered that the objective of this family is to sustain a dying community that is scattered all around the city making it hard to develop a strong camaraderie among the Jewish youth.

I admit the experience was overwhelming; everyone knew each other and was South African, so naturally I felt a little out of the loop. But once Shabbat started, I truly felt rooted (reference to previous post). Regardless of the circumstances, once Kabbalat Shabbat started, something felt so right, so comfortable. After a week of unknown and acclimation, I felt connected: to people, to my surroundings, to God. While I know these feelings are developing within all facets of this experience, these positive forces were effortlessly present throughout Shabbat; the day took on a whole new meaning. Besides for acting as a break from craziness, I felt a holiness, an elevation that I recognized as vacant from the rest of the week, not in a negative way, but in a way that made me so conscious of how necessary this time is.

After getting a taste of actual South Africans (not literally, unless you count the chicken) who I will hopefully continue to build relationships with, and initiating what could potentially be a significant part of my experience, I returned to Rosebank (that’s where I live, yea it’s a suburb… in Cape Town, South Africa). A few new friends had a get together at there apartment and we all spent the night talking about so many interesting topics. It was amazing to have such great conversation sparked by so many opinions and to be around people who wanted to be a part of them. I sincerely felt the holiness of Shabbat spill over into the rest of the week.

Sunday was amazing. I went to a beach called Camps Bay and was completely stunned by its beauty. I don’t think I could ever go to Atlantic City after this and enjoy it. The water was clean and rich, mountains filled in the space between the chique shops and the pale blue sky, the entire view was complex and vivid…the polar opposite of New Jersey, no offense. It was so strange to be in Africa sitting by the Atlantic Ocean. On the other side of the world I was again warmed by the surprising consistency (though I must say, Africa wins).

We then walked through a beautiful neighborhood to get to the famous botanical gardens that hosts free concerts on Sunday nights during the summer. We sat down with a few thousand natives listening to soothing sounds of an 80’s cover band. Once again the world felt smaller as we Americans listened to bad versions of Billy Joel and Cat Stevens songs. But this time there were mountains and flowers all around us. You may discover a theme in these stories and pictures; mountains. There everywhere, and its amazing.

So keeping with that theme, yesterday, we walked to an area called Bo-Kaap, a Muslim community famous for its vibrant, multi-colored houses. On a whim, we decided to climb the steep hill that the area was a part of. Hiking in jeans and sandals, we made our way up a huge mountain. The ever-changing view was the most incredible, panoramic fusion of houses, sky, skyscrapers, water, more mountains (obviously) with clouds sitting atop them and sailboats. It combined so many aspects of the world, but standing above it, the image simply works. I felt as though even for just this view, the world needs all these different things to work together, to cooperate, to be something more than individual. The world is seen through so many different hierarchies. But if each thing, building, person, is given a greater purpose, then relationships become horizontal, not vertical, not unequal.. I hope this can somehow make sense by looking at the pictures and truly understanding what I interpreted to be the mix of heaven and earth (Intro to Women’s and Gender Studies shout out).

Wow, so I know I am rambling about ridiculous, theoretical ideas that might not make sense, but I felt that this view brought together so many emotions that I have been feeling about people, religion, the history of South Africa and so many other things and I really want to share them with you.

I intended to write a poem called “Chasing the Sun” on my blog tonight because when we were running up the mountain, we tried to watch the sunset by walking quickly around the mountain to find it and failed and I thought this would be an amazing concept for a poem; while we constantly chase the pinnacle of light, enlightenment and so many other cliché metaphors, the journey that gets us there exposes us to so many more valuable ideas and images. Yup, once again, it is about the process. But I think I may have packed this enough. So maybe I will include it in my next post since I definitely still want to write it. But the general point is that I have been having so many amazing experiences, so many amazing conversations and I am thirsty for so much more.

(Oh and by the way I don’t start school until mid February which you nay be wondering since that aspect has not been mentioned.)

Mazel Tov! You earned another South African term of the day:

How are you going? – question - pronounced: how are you going – definition: a common greeting used by the native folk of South Africa similar to “what is up?” or “How are you?”

Example sentence:

When Jane saw Timmy for the first time in a week she inquired “how are you going?”

Yea, still need to work on those.

Miss you all.. I promise!

Finally!!

2008-01-25T04:57:00.000-08:00

Wow, so I arrived in Cape Town on Tuesday night after a stressful and long journey. The emotional whirlwind that has followed since then has been intense. I went from enchantment to homesickness to panic to really happy to less happy to content with being sort of happy and being patient and waiting for all of the potential of this trip to materialize.

I live in a suburb of Cape Town called Rosebank in an apartment with two other girls and thankfully we all get along really well. I have been conversing, exploring and hanging out with a bunch of different people on the program and have encountered an abundance of coolness here..and a few Jews too. Just kidding, Jews are cool.

Its weird to feel so rootless, foundationless here. Though I have been getting to know people, I cannot recall ever feeling so unstable; but I think its a good kind of instability. I am here to be challenged, to meet different kinds of people and understand a completely new culture and though it seems lonely or hard right now, I know that it needs to be this way in the beginning. It is not possible to just walk into a new situation and have everything be the way you want it to. As Sunnie says its about the process. I am head-deep in that process right now and I am ok with being there.

So enough pretentious preaching, onto the fun stuff. Cape Town is the most gorgeous place I have ever been. It seemed a little underwhelming at first but then you look past the stores and streets and realize there are the most beautiful mountains from almost every angle. The campus of the University of Cape Town is breathtaking, I cannot even describe it. I will definitely soon add pictures but I want to build up your expectations (or I forgot to bring my camera). The buildings are historic and grandiose and the landscapes add so much color and freshness. I am so excited to sit on a field and read a book and become a part of the picture.

I do not start classes for another 3 weeks, but that is ok because I have time to acclimate to Cape Town and really get to know where I am. I'm in Africa, AFRICA!! I want to know what that means.

Last night definitely started m education. I went to a few club...in my shobbos clothes. The first one was a little too posh and pretentious, but in an unconvincing way since everything here is so cheap, which is great. Then as we wondered along Long Street which is the place to be in Cape Town, we found this other place that seemed very local and cool. Everyone was wearing weird costumes. People had bloody knives coming out of there heads and shirts and crazy make-up and I, along with the people I was with, were a little skeptical of the sanity of Cape Townians, but then we found out it was a themed "kill your neighbor" party and were comforted well kinda. The streets were filled with so many types of people and eclectic shops and I realized how interesting it is too completely immerse yourself in a new culture. I want to become a part of it, I want to understand it and its history. Apparently Americans here are easy to spot because we carry around water bottles and ask lots of questions, so it may be difficult to fully succeed in this task but I have some hope.

As much as I am ready to jump into all this newness, I have started to realize how necessary a Jewish presence is in my life. I love this new experience and the fact that it is one of the first times I am not going to be in a predominantly Jewish environment, but at the same time, I know that it is my center and I cannot be without it and I am so thankful for that. So I have started davening again in the mornings..or trying to. Also this Shabbat I am going to stay with a family in the Cape town Jewish community and am so excited to also learn about Judaism from such a different perspective. I am really happy to have the opportunity to balance out such unchartered territory with something that brings me so much comfort.

Sorry for rambling on, but it took me until now to get internet access and I have had so much bubbling inside that I wanted to pour out. Thank you for reading this and I am so excited to continue to tell you about my adventures....gosh I realize that I have to have some really great stories to live up to the presumptuous name of this blog. Well I hope I succeed.. and I am sure the pictures that will be coming soon will help.

Here is your South African Ulpan term of the day:

Braai - noun - pronounced bry- a barbeque where everyone brings there own food. People tend to have lots of braais to celebrate a variety of special occasions or simply to just spend relaxing time together.

example sentence: Sally and Harriet went to their friend Angela's braai.

ooo, I have to work on those example sentences.

E-A-G-L-E-S!

Rachie