Month of Many Holidays

The Hebrew month of Tishrei is almost over (thank god).  I think the translation of "Tishrei" is "A month that everyday is a holiday".  Children here don't stress out about the first day of school because they know that they will only have to suffer about 2 hours before they are on vacation again!

The month of many holidays starts off with a good one, Rosh Hashanna.  Rosh Hashanna is the Jewish New Year.  Instead of staying up late with lights and music, we go to bed early after eating a feast.

The next one is a little less fun, Yom Kippur, ten days later.  The Day of Atonement.  That's the one where we fast and think about what we did.  This one is the toughest of all.  It's not so much the fasting, I can do that, but why do you have to bring little children with baggies of food to temple to taunt me?  That doesn't seem very fair.  Luckily for all when the sun goes down, we get to eat- a lot.

And then comes the holiday that I didn't know existed when I lived in the States.  If I knew, I would've insisted on a week off.  Sukkot- which apparently is the time where the Jews made a pilgrimage to the Temple of Jerusalem.   This is the time of year when Israelis get out there tools and start building a Sukka (as in the fragile homes of our founding fathers.  Not "sukka" as in slang for "sucker").  A sukka is decorated with children's drawings and Christmas lights (yep, that's right, Christmas lights) and most people eat their meals there.  This goes on for about a week until Simchat Torah (that's when we finish reading the Torah and start all over again).  Israelis are normally pretty good about taking down their Sukkas right after the holiday is over. 

So let's count them up: we have 2 days for Rosh Hashana, 2 days for Yom Kippur, and 8 days for Sukkot and Simchat Torah = about 2 weeks off of school in the month of September (not including weekends of course).

Not only am I glad that this month is almost over and the kids (and their parents) will be going back to where they came from, but I can also get back to the gym and start eating right again (did I mention that Jewish holidays involve feasting?).

Happy Holidays!

English Muffins and Ginger Ale

I was planning that this blog would be about Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement.  I was going to talk about the tradition, how I've evolved from a kid running around the halls of the temple to a fasting adult.  I'd talk about the spirituality of the day and maybe even rant a little about bringing little kids with baggies of food to the temple.  But then, something terrible happened..

I got sick.

My boyfriend came back home a little sick.  He had a stuffed up nose and a soar throat.  Not a big deal for someone who isn't me. I don't get just a little sick- I get fever sick almost every time.  

It started Wednesday, a little soar throat, nothing to worry about.  Then Thursday came around, I wasn't feeling that great, but I could still function.  I went to work and realized that I wasn't talking that much.  I just kind of wanted to cuddle up in a ball and be left alone.  One of the managers at work helped me out (though apparently made it seem like I was dying), and I was able to go home.  Then it hit me.  I had fever pains all over, and decided to curl up into a ball on the couch and wait for someone to rescue me.

When I woke up Friday morning (Eve of Yom Kippur) and decided (I think pretty rationally) that it was better to just die, I realized that I probably wasn't going to be able to fast. I know to most of you that may sound like a blessing, but did I mention I'd rather die?  And I really do like the spirituality of fasting (maybe I will still write about it..).  I had planned a big meal with friends who stayed up north for Yom Kippur (though, most of them didn't fast).  I gathered all the strength that I had left and I cooked chicken for the feast.  I was able to be there for half an hour before I needed to curl up into a ball again. 

I went home and my boyfriend took care of me.  He made me tea, checked my temperature, made me drink water and cooked me some soup (he even made me eat a couple pieces of bread, even though I didn't want to).  We watched movies and he even let me put my legs on him, even though he was hot.  I went to bed and he checked in on me and gave me water and aspirin.  He was pretty good at taking care of me.

And still, I found myself just wanting to go home.  To my parents house, where they were and they could take care of me.  I found myself fantasizing about English Muffins with some butter and Ginger Ale (the secret to getting better).

 Some things never change, I'm 26 years old and all I wanted yesterday (besides being put out of my misery and just dying already) is to go home to my Mommy and Daddy. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

So another year has passed.  And once again the holidays are here.  Once again you can hear the statement "I'll take care of it after the holidays." Or "talk to me again, after the holidays."

I don't know if you know this but Rosh Hashana is actually like 4 days long.  It was never this long in the States.  At least, I don't remember it being that long.  I remember getting up early on Rosh Hashana day, and going to services.  We'd have to get dressed up, in a dress!  I hated dresses, so wearing one was not fun.  Then my sister and I would be shipped off to kiddy services.  I know these things are meant to keep kids out of the way, but kids hate kiddy services.  Kids hate kiddy tables. Kids hate being called kids.  But I dealt with it, probably not gracefully, but still..

The best part of the holiday is after services.  We all get together and have a really big lunch.  The food is great, but the family is amazing.

It’s noisy all the time.  Everybody is talking at once and kids are running around trying to find entertainment.  There is always at least one person laughing.  It's wonderful.  I loved it and I love my family.

Then we moved to Israel.  We kept the tradition of Morning Services and a big lunch afterwards.  I got used to wearing dresses, and even like it sometimes.  I get up early with my own alarm clock and don't put up much of a fight.  I get to sit next to my Dad in grownup services.  We laugh and pray and it's a pretty good time.  Then we walk home and eat till we can't breathe. 

I love living in Israel.  Holidays are a great time for family and tradition.  But every holiday, even Yom Kippur, I miss the noise, talking and laughing.