Through Asia & Beyond: Barbed Wires, Bombs, and Bitches Doing Dishes

The best way to break up this blog will be to separate it into three main parts. I am going to write about: hiking, community service, and a memorial service.

1. Hiking
To preface my account of our night hikes, it is first necessary to describe the man who is leading these hikes and the leader of our program, Doron. There are a lot of 'cool' people I have met in my life, but without a doubt, hands down, Doron is the coolest man that I know. Hailing from Kazakhstan, he tells us this fact each time we do an opening circle (at the beginning of each week when newcomers arrive) while chuckling contagiously (as if he himself doesn't believe it). This man teaches anti-terrorism to the army and Kabbalah in his free time, used to hitchhike to weddings as part of a wedding band, and is generally badass. This man surprises himself every day to the point where his actions too surprise us, but also to the degree that it would be a surprise for him not to surprise us.

Fast forward to night hike number two of the week and number three of the trip. Doron, who likes to blaze new trails (literally), as in taking hikes in places where paths don't exist, led us on a hike that he had scouted six months ago. The spot was ~10 miles from the Lebanese border and led us to a half Muslim, half Christian town. We quickly ran into unexpected obstacles. There was barbed wire 1.5 meters high and stretching to about 1 foot off the ground around the perimeter of the hike that we were set to depart. Instead of even thinking about calling off the hike, Doron insisted that we lift the barbed wire and have everybody shimmy under it. To juicen the story, it must be mentioned that although we had gotten used to obstacles, there were 7 newcomers (as of that day) who could not possibly have expected to step into this. After trekking under barbed wire number two, there was the 'opening' gate that Doron had remembered passing six months ago. Luckily there was a hole in the gate or else it would have meant 29 people scaling 8 feet. Then there was the 5 foot ravine we had to jump over in which the girl in front of me took a nasty spill and left the landing rock completely wet. And finally was a 15 foot long gate which Doron simply pushed out of the way. There were also wolfdogs and angry cows howling and mooing along the way. At the end, after feeling accomplished, I scaled a ten foot pillar, which was the thing of the day that struck the most fear into me.

Hike one, in a different way, was also spectacular. Just 3 kilometers from the Syrian border, we awoke the next morning on the parking lot at 6:30 AM to the sounds of bombs dropping and a machine gun raining down on Syria. Even though it was so physically close, it was still impossible to imagine the sure deaths that ensued from these events. The reason, as I was informed by Doron, that these were bombs and not Israeli military training, was due to the abbreviated amount of time that they dropped for and the random frequency in the bombings.

2. Community Service:
Since coming to Tzvat, I have done several types of community service, ranging: picking up trash (subsequently making artwork out of it), painting railings, repairing a burned out house,and weeding/repainting graves in a holy cemetery. I wish there was more interaction with people during community service, but at the least we at Livnot U'Lehibanot, translated "To Build and to Be Built" (the program I am participating in), get to bond. It is also rewarding to hear people praise our work, whether it be the mayor at a celebratory unveiling of the newly renovated Citadel, or a random passerby whose street railing we were repainting.

The ironic thing about all of this community service is that technically the most holy of the work that we do is working in the cemetery... on behalf of dead people. The reasoning behind this, according to Judaism, is because Tzedakah done to people who cannot return the favor is the ultimate form of giving. I personally see how this view exists, but am not of the same belief. Just as a Mitzvah is created by doing right especially when multiple people are involved, I believe that Tzedakah in the form of giving to people who are not able to return it but can enjoy it (such as singing at an old people's home), donating anonymously to those in need, etc. is the ultimate form of Chesed (kindness). Painting graves was quite relaxing however.

3. Memorial Service
One of the most prominent sages in Judaism that ever lived was a man named Isaac Luria. Pegged as a crucial man in the interpretation of Kabballah, this jedi-master did not even live to be 40. It is said that by simply looking at your face, he could read your history and discern what kind of person you were. Apparently some people used to walk around with their hats down for fear of being detected by Rabbi Luria. Having died on the fifth of Av nearly 450 years ago, his death is still a much celebrated day in history, and particularly in Tzfat where he is buried in what is considered to be the second holiest cemetery in the world. This itself is slightly off-putting to me as in Judaism, everyone is considered to be equal in death. More off-putting was the fashion in which Luria’s death is celebrated. Thousands of people flock to Tzfat for the chance to touch this man’s grave. The explanation that Doron gave me, which was that people were trying to connect with his righteousness, was not sufficient to deter me from thinking that this was the ultimate form of idolatry. I cannot imagine that Luria would ever have wanted people to step over other graves (some deemed okay and some deemed not okay to step over) and elbow each other out of the way in order for a chance to touch his grave.

Lastly, it must be mentioned a that we were forced, as a crew of five guys, to do the dishes. It took an hour longer than it normally takes and the dishes came out half as clean.