Rosh Hashana

"They let us switch out our shoes freely, I don't really like the high-topped boots."

My cousin is home from the army for the Jewish new year, Rosh Hashana, one of the most important holidays.

"But when you switch, don't you also have to switch the diskettes?"

"Diskettes?  In the shoes?"

"Yeah, they put diskettes in their shoes now."

"What is that supposed to mean?  When I went to the army, they didn't put diskettes in our shoes...how are you supposed to explain that to a new soldier?"

"Bluntly."

I come to realize that diskette is the Hebrew word for "dog tags."

"What are you supposed to say to an 18-year-old when they ask you why they need to have diskettes in their shoes?!"

"Times change.  You tell them all you can: the truth."

This was what stuck with me most from the many rushed conversations that my relatives had (in Hebrew) at my Aunt's apartment last night, during the Rosh Hashana meal.  As depressing as they are, conversations like this are important.  I came to Israel in order to experience the Israeli culture in its entirety, not just the shiny, nice parts.  Rosh Hashana at my Aunt's was a good deal of fun: Thursday night, my cousin Gil (who is studying law at Tel-Aviv University) came and picked me up from the apartment, and we ended up giving Noa (my madricha) a ride, which was kind of funny (AND ALSO SUPER AWKWARD).  That night, Gil took me to a pizza place in Tel-Aviv named Tony Vespa, where you paid by how many kilograms the slice you wanted weighed.  It was a pretty good place, at the end of Dizengoff street, I have to remember it.  Later, we went to a bar in Kfar Saba, where most of my father's family lives (including Gil), and drank some with some of Gil's friends.  It was nice.  The next morning I woke up very late, at 2 in the afternoon, and played some with Yuval, the youngest cousin I have in that family.  Then many more people (including my paternal grandparents) came over for the ceremonial dinner, which was delicious--I made the mistake of filling up before the main meal was brought out, as I thought it was already there.  In any case, after dinner my other cousin from that family (the Rosenblums), Dror (the one from the army, he's my age) took me out with some of his friends and we drank in a park nearby.  It was quite a different experience from the night I spent with Gil, but good in its own way: it was the kind of thing I may have done with people on Year Course if I'd been in Bat-Yam that night.

This morning I woke up at 11 and went with Gil to a barbecue some of his friends were having near my other set of grandparents' place.  They live in a kind of retirement neighborhood near the city of Netanya, which is relatively north in Israel.  We then went to dinner at my Safta's (grandma's) brother's place, where I saw other parts of my family for the first time since I've arrived.  It was also pretty good.  Now I am back at my grandparents' place, about to go to sleep.

It is raining heavily in Netanya tonight.  This is the first rain that has come down since I've been in Israel, and there is a special name for it in Hebrew, as it's the first rain of a long, monsoon-like season.  They call it the יורה (yoreh), which sounds a lot like the word yored (falling).  I have always been mystified by the rain, it is one of the last things we have left that we cannot control, and I'm fascinated by the scent and the sight of it.  This particular rain, however, is probably one of the most important ones I've ever witnessed (and smelt).  It marks the end of the summer season here, and marks the beginning of my year in Israel.  It's only fitting that the yoreh would fall tonight, on Rosh Hashana, and that all this should be near the start of Year Course.  While I already have experienced plenty of amazing things, there have also been various frustrations, and I can only hope that as the year progresses I can appreciate both.  Life is full of frustrations, and it's important that I remember what Noah Gallagher told me before I left camp to come here--"On Year Course, even when it seems like you're having the shittiest time, it's still one of the best times of your life."

Tomorrow I will return to Bat-Yam and life will resume again as usual, at least for here.  All in all, this has probably been one of the best Rosh Hashanot I've ever celebrated.

I wish you all a shana tova u'metukah.  Lila tov!