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Published: April 23rd 2010
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Independence Day decorations
This house in my neighborhood is typical - people flew flags everywhere, even on their cars the way sports fans in the US fly their team's symbol before a big game. Spring is moving steadily into summer. The days are warmer, and although we had a little rain yesterday, the grass in the valley outside my balcony is beginning to fade on the sun-facing slopes. The poor goats! The warm air deepens the fragrance of honeysuckle and jasmine that have begun blooming along countless walls in the neighborhood. It's wonderful.
Living A week after Yom Hashoa Israel observes Yom Hazikaron, Memorial Day. But don't think BBQ's and sales. Memorial Day is a solemn day of memory of soldiers and civilians who have been killed in wars and terrorist attacks over the years. It began Sunday evening. I went to a little ceremony that was held at a community center in my neighborhood. People from the neighborhood gathered a little before eight o'clock; at 8:00 a siren sounded across the country and people stood at attention. A group of scouts led the ceremony and they asked us to rise about ten minutes before the siren actually sounded. It was a rare quiet moment as everyone stood, waiting and listening to the church bells from the Old City and then as the bells faded, the siren finally began. The scouts' ceremony included
Memorial Day
This box, outside a house, is usually intended for a menorah at Hanukah. reading poems, singing songs with guitar accompaniment, and lighting a memorial torch. It was quite moving to see these teenagers pay tribute to those only a little older than they are who died as soldiers in Israel's many wars. I remember the last time I was here for Memorial Day I visited a school where they read the list of names of the alumni from the school who had been killed. I couldn't help wondering which of the students listening to the names would be included on that list in future years.
The following morning there was another siren; we interrupted our classes before it sounded to go to the lobby of the building where there was a short ceremony. I stood outside the door of the building and watched how traffic came to a standstill and people got out of their cars and stood during the siren. The siren itself is a powerful, haunting sound. I remember as a child doing duck and cover drills that were signaled by a siren, but here the connotation is quite different. It is a warning, a waiting, a dire danger, a call to action. In some ways, the siren is a
Peace Now
The residents of this house showed their combined patriotism and desire for peace. modern shofar. In the context of Memorial Day it calls attention to the terrible, terrible price of war that so many young people and their families have paid for this country. The solemn recognition of that price and the grief is palpable.
Monday was a quiet day; just like on Yom Hashoa, the radio played sad songs. Israeli TV stations suspended programming altogether. Many restaurants were closed. But as the day came to an end, the mood began to change; Memorial Day was ending and Independence Day was about to begin. I went to services at Shira Hadashah. After the afternoon prayers, they sang songs about life and love and death and people had the opportunity to name friends and family members who had been killed. And then slowly the tempo and the mood of the music began to pick up. We moved to the evening prayers and sang a full hallel (celebratory psalms). People began dancing around the synagogue. I left services and outside there were fireworks. I could hear concerts from various parts of the city. The whole city was vibrating with festive excitement! It was lovely.
The typical Independence Day activity is BBQing, but (not
so surprisingly) I didn't participate in that. Instead of crowding into any patch of green anywhere in the city along with the rest of the population, I was invited to a couple of fancy parties, one at a beautiful home overlooking the Old City and one in an amazing garden. I also watched parts of the annual Biblical competition (it's like a spelling bee, but with Biblical verses) and the awarding of the Israel Prize to people who have contributed to Israeli society in a wide variety of fields from chemistry to dance to literature to general good of the society.
These holidays are Israel's only secular holidays. It is interesting to see what traditions arise (the sirens, the BBQ's), where content emerges and where it doesn't. I am usually skeptical about uncritical nationalism and I have no doubt that many people fully embrace exactly that during these days. But there is also something moving about the collective experience and the transition from mourning to celebration. Of course it's not fully collective and not everyone is celebrating. But to create a space even for this limited expression is quite powerful.
Learning This week we had the final session of our encounter group between Israelis studying at Mandel and the Jerusalem Fellows. We spent part of it sharing a text, song or image from our childhood with each other and part of it continuing the conversation about how we relate to Israel. Yael Bar-Lev, the facilitator, did a brilliant job. I enjoyed the fact that despite growing up in Canada, Israel, the US or France, more than one of us had listened to Pete Seeger, read the Little Princess and enjoyed Tintin. Once we had reestablished a certain level of intimacy, we turned to the area where we have less common ground. We were each asked to write down and share our disappointment, pride, pain and fear in relation to Israel. It was a very moving conversation, personal and mostly free of dogma. We ended the day by confirming how important these kinds of encounters are. They may indeed be time-consuming, but the opportunity to connect honestly and deeply around issues that are meaningful to us is rare and precious.
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