I have overslept enough in the past year or so to have learned the trick of setting two alarms on mornings on which I need to rise early -- one for the time I would like to get up, and one for 15-20 minutes earlier. This got me up just in time on Sunday morning to arrive at the campus, to meet the bus, at 6:55 am. Noach and I were the first to arrive, and, soon after, the rest of the Oranim residents (with a few noticeable, unfortunate absences) from Ramla showed up. We boarded the bus, picked up our ITF friends from Ashdod, and were on our way southeast for the Dead Sea region. I sat next to Noah (from Haveradim), and, given the time we had gotten up that morning, talked a surprising amount about athletics, sports nutrition, Hebrew, history, and other common interests. I had my Mishneh Torah with me (I'm up to Temidin u'Musafin) on my Kindle, but, what can I say, Noah is just more exciting, frequently.
We had a much better tour guide than the guide on our previous excursion. Stav spoke absolutely flawless English, was a great storyteller, knew a lot about the regions we were visiting, and was even taller than my older brother Andrew! I think that the other participants liked him, too. Our first destination of the day (other than a quick stop at a tourist trap-rest area, where the only significant event was Noach sitting on a camel) was the Ein Gedi oasis. We first visited the ruin of an ancient synagogue that dated back to the 3rd or 4th century C.E. -- the Rabbinic era, during which the conversations that were later redacted into the Palestinian and Babylonian Talmuds took place. The floor plan had was almost entirely intact, thanks to some painstaking archaeological digging and reconstruction. There was a motif of birds (peacocks and quails?) and flowers. I have to admit, I was surprised to see the animal imagery; I think that I would have guessed that there would have been hesitation among these ancient Jews to depict any living creature. Not that this would have been any sort of violation; I know from the Mishneh Torah that "the images of animals and other living beings - with the exception of
men - and similarly, the images of trees, grasses, and the like may be
fashioned. This applies even to images which protrude" (Avodah Zarah 3:11). Anyway, the synagogue would have been quite small; there's no way anyone would have been able to have held any serious all-day Yom Kippur service in there! Still, the structure was familiar, with designated spaces for the ark containing the Torah scroll, and for the table where the scroll was read. The local Jews manufactured what was probably some kind of perfume that they called "Aparsimon" (coincidentally, the modern Hebrew word for "persimmon"), which the Romans mispronounced to get the word "balsam." Did you get that, Lani? The etymology of "persimmon" is, in fact, Algonquin, and the word אפרסימונים in the Gemara was only given in modern Hebrew to a New World fruit with a similar-sounding name. Now we've finally solved that mystery [insert shomer-pet-on-head]! Anyway, the community was extremely protective of its method of extraction of resin from the balsam plant, and inscribed on the floor of the synagogue is a curse, in Aramaic (the vernacular of the day), pronouncing a curse of exile and infertility upon anyone who reveals the town's secret (recipe). This was, of course, the livelihood of the entire town; just imagine the kind of the disaster that would have occurred, had they lost the secret.
Following the visit to the ancient synagogue at Ein Gedi, we took a short hike through the oasis. Ein Gedi is actually huge, and it would take days to explore the entire reserve, but we nevertheless had a very enjoyable time. We wore our swimsuits, and were able to splash around a little bit in the cataracts, much to my delight (speaking of delight, still thinking of מַה יָּפִית וּמַה נָּעַמְתְּ אַהֲבָה בַּתַּעֲנוּגִים זֹאת קוֹמָתֵךְ דָּמְתָה לְתָמָר). We saw some wildlife, including hyraxes and ibexes. Ibexes look rather like gazelles, and are amazing at climbing mountains; the males have very long, decorative curled horns. Hyraxes look like prairie dogs or groundhogs of some sort, but they're apparently not even rodents, and their closest relatives are, in fact, elephants! Hyraxes and elephants are apparently unique among mammals in that their genitalia are internal and concealed. There are also golden spiny mice, bee eaters, and Tristram's starlings that live in Ein Gedi, although I didn't spot any. Ein Gedi has a couple of Biblical connections; hearing Shir Hashirim every week at the Sepharadi synagogues, I remembered the name Ein Gedi from the verse "אֶשְׁכֹּל הַכֹּפֶר | דּוֹדִי לִי בְּכַרְמֵי עֵין גֶּדִי." Stav, the Israeli guide, also reminded us that this is one of the places where David hid out, in a cave, from angry King Saul, who was trying to kill him. According to the narrative, David stole Sha'ul's water bottle and spear in the middle of the night, in order to show that, although he was capable, he would not kill Sha'ul. (Hey, didn't I learn that with some Cool People during my senior year of college?)
We drove from Ein Gedi to the shore of the Dead Sea. On the way, Stav described the dangerous flash floods that strike the region annually, during the wintertime (the rainy season). I didn't mention it, but I have personally experienced these floods while on Birthright in January 2012, and they are quite frightening. They also prevented me from actually entering the Dead Sea itself, although I did take a dip in the nearby sulfurous hot springs. When we stopped by the seashore, my housemate Ben was extremely happy to see that there was an Aroma (ארומה), which is a very large Israeli café chain, somewhat like the Israeli equivalent of Starbucks, at least in terms of its ubiquity. Ramla really doesn't have a lot to recommend it in terms of cafés and restaurants, and doesn't have an ארומה. I ran almost straight into the water. It was pleasantly warm, and, of course, very buoyant. I floated on my back, careful to keep my face out of the toxic liquid. Stav, an 80-trip Birthright veteran, told us the story of a boy who had made a bet that he could swallow a whole cup of Dead Sea water; by the time he reached a hospital, he was already in a near-critical condition. The Dead Sea, despite the fairly recent discovery of natural gas, is still probably Israel's most valuable natural resource, producing all sorts of different valuable salts, when processed properly. Israel is on the edge of a tectonic plate, and the Dead Sea, the lowest region in the world, soaks up all sorts of chemicals from the Earth's mantle that have breached the surface (I think). Eventually, the others joined me, and we swam around. Jordan got quite far out ("almost to Jordan," several people made the joke). I really enjoyed paddling around, and helped Gabby join the group, including Hannah, my roommate Ben, Max, and Jordan, that had swam out the farthest. After I did, though, I admit that I took one glance at the distance to the shore, and became slightly spooked by my distance. Worried that I might tire out, I quickly paddled back, and felt very relieved that I did. Jordan was a total gentleman, and gave Gabbie a ride back to shore when she felt similar concerns. We stayed for over two hours, and I was quite tired by the time we loaded back onto the bus. On the drive back, Stav told TZ and some others about the countryside we passed through, pointing out all of the trees planted by the JNF, and also telling an interesting Bedouin tale. Noah gave me life advice.
By the way, before I conclude this tale, I'd like to take a moment to address the passing yesterday, at age 93, of Rav Ovadya Yosef, ז"ל. I first heard about the news over the loudspeakers at the Rambam school (I work at a Sepharadi religious school), although, earlier in the day, Rav Yosef had lead some students in reciting Shir Hama'alot Tehillim for the sake of the very ill former Chief Rabbi (it's a tradition to recite psalms for the gravely ill and injured). His funeral, the same day, was the most widely-attended funeral in Israel's history, with estimates of attendance ranging from 700,000 to nearly 850,000 (that's around 10% of the population of this tiny country, remember). My friend Eli attended. This man was extraordinarily controversial in his politics, especially regarding his hardline stance towards the Arabs; he is on record as having made several statements that many consider to be racist (although earlier in his career, he was apparently singular among the Israeli Rabbinate in his insistence on peace, but later changed his position). He was undoubtedly one of the most influential Rabbis, anywhere in the world, of our generation, and among the most Torah-learned people in the world at the time of his teach. In his memory, I will pass on two rulings that I distinctly remember of his. The first (which I learned with Eliana) involved the question of women publicly reading Megillat Esther on Purim, and thereby fulfill the obligation of male and female audience members to hear the Megillah read. Although the Babylonian Talmud is very insistent that women's obligation is equal, there is a Tosefta passage stating otherwise, and, stronger than halakhah, is the tradition for women not to read. Rav Ovadya ruled that women do indeed fulfill men's obligations, although his response seemed to indicate that such a scenario would only occur in the absence of fully competent male readers. I hasten to add that Cornell University, in some years past, lacked competent male student readers, which is why Peninah read Megillah for us, as well as for the TBE Hebrew Schoolers on Purim morning this past year. In the second Rabbinic response that I remember, which I read in a book by Judy's Rabbi, Rav Ovadya ruled that praying minchah gedolah is preferable to praying minchah katanah, in opposition to both Maimonides and Yosef Karo. He cited a whole pile of medieval sources, and even argued that, had Yosef Karo (compiler of the famous Shulchan Arukh code of Jewish law, which most Sepharadim accept as authoritative in almost all instances) been aware of all of these opinions, he would have agreed, and rejected Maimonides's ruling. I plan to be praying minchah gedolah rather frequently in the near future, as noon occurs earlier and earlier in the day.
I'm having a good week, by the way, at Rambam! I'll blog about it soon! I love you all! Especially you, Josefin; welcome home to Israel!
~JD
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