חג שמח
lunes, abril 23, 2007
Yom Hazzikarón and Yom Haatzma'ut
Tonight and for two days Israel celebrates its two most important secular holidays: the first of them is Yom Hazzikaron (The day of rememberance) in which the country remembers all the fallen soldiers and the victims of terror. The TV stations that broadcast "entertaining" things shut down or dedicate their waves to memorial programs of specific families: following their grief, sharing with the entire country the memory of your boy or girl who fell in this war or the other. The same thing with radio. The whole country is one huge bleeding wound, one single remembering soul. Tomorrow, when the sun sets, the gloom of Yom Hazzikaron will be raised by the cheer and the fireworks of Independence Day (Yom Haatzma'ut). The stages that have held, some twenty four hours previous, grieving families will be filled with dancers and children, baloons, and flags (ubiquitous blue Stars of David on a sea of white). Sackcloth will be turned into dancing, grief into joy. In any other country such mingling of the most contradictory feelings in the human heart would seem schizophrenic and grotesque. However, in Israel it seems natural and logical. The continuing existence of the State (59 years tomorrow) is guaranteed, sadly, only by the efforts and sacrifices of these brave men and women. May it be His will that in the very close future this will not seem so blatantly obvious!
domingo, abril 15, 2007
Sea su memoria una bendición para todos nosotros
Armando Restrepo Estrada(Enero 8, 1922-Abril 13, 2007)
jueves, abril 12, 2007
Hiking through the bottom of the world
I am really sorry I have not been paying attention to this, my little corner of the virtual world. As most bloggers I do suffer from bouts of enthusiasm and exhaustion. So I hope this time I will clean away the cobwebs and settle for good.
A lot of things have been happening since my last post. A new semester, Pesach, Alejandro´s wedding, the preparations to go back to the City Without Mountains. I may or may not get to write about these events. In any case, what I will write about (or more precisely show you) is the three day camping trip we made to Ein Gedi and the Dead Sea. Ein Gedi has been a site for Jewish settlement since the time of King David all the way into the seventh century of this era. Today there is a kibbutz there and several natural reserves which you will see in the pictures.
We spent the last three days camping and hiking, praying in the fields and in the ruins, praising Hashem in the darkness of the desert, making fire without matches, spending the night under the stars and learning from the eagles and the hyraxes how to be better bipedal rational animals who can laugh. (Spanish speakers please follow the link on the hyrax to discover a wonderful piece of trivia about the origins of the name of your language) [Before going on I would like to give kudos to Aaron and Ute for organizing the trip and to Tamir, our wonderful Israeli guide who taught us so much and who I hope gets to visit Colombia one of these days.] Without further ado, the pictures.
First we started at the Kibbutz with a great basket weaving workshop with basket weaver extraordinaire Mychal. The house in the picture is her house. She wove it out of the palm trees in the grove in the picture. She weaves and weaves and weaves and smiles and makes a living by teaching people all there is to know about the date palm (Tamar in Hebrew) and by weaving incredible complex things from the palm leaf. This was followed by a sumptuous lunch provided by ceramist Riki who also lives in the hut and builds mud kitchens.
Mychal and Riki live off the land and have creative professions. As for myself, as it is obvious in the picture, I could never make a living out of basket weaving. (However, I am very attached to my basket no matter how misshaped and uncomely.)
After the basket weaving we decided to make our way up the hill all the way to the oasis of Ein Gedi ("The spring of the Goat" in Hebrew) which involved huffing and puffing up an incredible incline full of rocks overlooking the Dead Sea. After braving the rockslides and the throngs of Ultraorthodox Jews who, for no apparent reason, were all hiking this path in the middle of a hot spring afternoon in their complete Polish garb (black hat and all), we reached the top of the hill and were rewarded by the crystal pool of Ein Gedi whose waters are cool and delicious (and a great place to put your tired, dusty feet after a long hike). Soon after it started to rain (with lightning and thunder and we had to hurry down the path, risking life and limb. I am sorry there are no pictures of that, we are not the National Geographic Society.)
Ein Gedi from below (yes, yes we climbed all the way up that hill and at 30 C no less).
The kibbutz's palm groves as seen from halfway up the trail. Ein Gedi is an oasis of lush vegetation in the middle of one of the harshest deserts in the world. The pool of blue in the background is Yam Hamelach (the Dead Sea): the lowest point in the world (400 m below sea level) and the saltiest body of water on the planet (nothing can live in its waters). Such fun factoids only make the miracle of Ein Gedi more amazing. Indeed, as King Solomon said, "My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna-flowers In the vineyards of En-gedi." (Song of Songs 1.14)
At last, the waters of Ein Gedi. (This pool of three meters of diameter feeds all the green in the valley below. Thus is the power of water in the desert.) Later that afternoon we met with our guide, Tamir, and set up camp amidst the ruins of the old kibbutz. The day ended with us trying to learn to light fire without matches and with long meditative walks around the nearby forest practicing the chasidic art of hitbodedut (isolation) espontaneous conversations with God in solitude.
[To be continued]
A lot of things have been happening since my last post. A new semester, Pesach, Alejandro´s wedding, the preparations to go back to the City Without Mountains. I may or may not get to write about these events. In any case, what I will write about (or more precisely show you) is the three day camping trip we made to Ein Gedi and the Dead Sea. Ein Gedi has been a site for Jewish settlement since the time of King David all the way into the seventh century of this era. Today there is a kibbutz there and several natural reserves which you will see in the pictures.
We spent the last three days camping and hiking, praying in the fields and in the ruins, praising Hashem in the darkness of the desert, making fire without matches, spending the night under the stars and learning from the eagles and the hyraxes how to be better bipedal rational animals who can laugh. (Spanish speakers please follow the link on the hyrax to discover a wonderful piece of trivia about the origins of the name of your language) [Before going on I would like to give kudos to Aaron and Ute for organizing the trip and to Tamir, our wonderful Israeli guide who taught us so much and who I hope gets to visit Colombia one of these days.] Without further ado, the pictures.
First we started at the Kibbutz with a great basket weaving workshop with basket weaver extraordinaire Mychal. The house in the picture is her house. She wove it out of the palm trees in the grove in the picture. She weaves and weaves and weaves and smiles and makes a living by teaching people all there is to know about the date palm (Tamar in Hebrew) and by weaving incredible complex things from the palm leaf. This was followed by a sumptuous lunch provided by ceramist Riki who also lives in the hut and builds mud kitchens.
Mychal and Riki live off the land and have creative professions. As for myself, as it is obvious in the picture, I could never make a living out of basket weaving. (However, I am very attached to my basket no matter how misshaped and uncomely.)
After the basket weaving we decided to make our way up the hill all the way to the oasis of Ein Gedi ("The spring of the Goat" in Hebrew) which involved huffing and puffing up an incredible incline full of rocks overlooking the Dead Sea. After braving the rockslides and the throngs of Ultraorthodox Jews who, for no apparent reason, were all hiking this path in the middle of a hot spring afternoon in their complete Polish garb (black hat and all), we reached the top of the hill and were rewarded by the crystal pool of Ein Gedi whose waters are cool and delicious (and a great place to put your tired, dusty feet after a long hike). Soon after it started to rain (with lightning and thunder and we had to hurry down the path, risking life and limb. I am sorry there are no pictures of that, we are not the National Geographic Society.)
Ein Gedi from below (yes, yes we climbed all the way up that hill and at 30 C no less).
The kibbutz's palm groves as seen from halfway up the trail. Ein Gedi is an oasis of lush vegetation in the middle of one of the harshest deserts in the world. The pool of blue in the background is Yam Hamelach (the Dead Sea): the lowest point in the world (400 m below sea level) and the saltiest body of water on the planet (nothing can live in its waters). Such fun factoids only make the miracle of Ein Gedi more amazing. Indeed, as King Solomon said, "My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna-flowers In the vineyards of En-gedi." (Song of Songs 1.14)
At last, the waters of Ein Gedi. (This pool of three meters of diameter feeds all the green in the valley below. Thus is the power of water in the desert.) Later that afternoon we met with our guide, Tamir, and set up camp amidst the ruins of the old kibbutz. The day ended with us trying to learn to light fire without matches and with long meditative walks around the nearby forest practicing the chasidic art of hitbodedut (isolation) espontaneous conversations with God in solitude.[To be continued]
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)
