Before I talk about my Rosh Hashannah, I want to first talk about one of my favorite prayers. Aveinu Malkeinu, which means "my father, my king" is sung in a minor key. The tune is beautiful and I think that it captures the true spirit of both Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur, which is on Saturday. The translation of the whole chorus is: Hear our Voice, Lord our G-d, pity and be compassionate to us, and accept--with compassion and favor--our prayer. I know it sounds cheesy and very religious, but it also captures exactly how I feel on these holidays.
Unlike the last time I was in Israel, I went to services on Rosh Hashannah. Oh, but don't worry. The awkward experiences were still present.
My friend and I called some host families and invited ourselves over for dinner. Both were in the same area, but one family was definitely more welcoming than the other. Wednesday night, we arrived at the Family's apartment only to discover that no one was dressed. We were early, but not so much so that there was reason for the father to be strutting around in his boxers. The oldest daughter, around 4, was combing her hair in her underwear and her 1 year old sister was waddling in just a diaper. The kids I can at least understand. It's hot, they just bathed, there was some kind of tantrum. But neither the mother nor the father were dressed and my friend and I waited over half an hour for them. When they were finally ready, we crossed the street to the shul. Ten minutes later, services were over. Fastest Erev Rosh Hashannah Service ever. We could have gotten there late, but I don't really know because the women were put in a separate room where you couldn't see or hear anything. Literally. We faced a wall. At dinner, we blessed and ate all the things you are supposed to eat. That's fine, but it just took forever. Like over an hour to bless the apples, honey, dates, pomegranate seeds, 2 types of latkes, sweetened beans, carrots, and the head of a fish. Once dinner actually began, there was total silence. Except for the 1 year old screaming "abba, abba!" The father knew no English and the mother stopped talking to us at a certain point despite my Hebrew speaking skills and my friend's ability to understand Hebrew. By the end of the evening, the mother whispered to the father that we should do After-meal blessings so that we could leave. My friend and I were happy to leave these quirky parents.
Shacharit, morning services, probably began around 9, but my friends and I arrived at the conservative shul well after 10. And we were not even close to being the last ones. Some couples arrived after the Haftarah. It was a one room synagogue obviously built as a place of learning. There are benches along the perimeter with tables partnering up with the wooden seats. Bookshelves stuffed with the Tanach, prayer books, and commentary sat towards the door. Oh yea, this as also an American-based synagogue. Israelis are either very religous or not at all so the in-betweens are usually Americans or other Jews who have made Aliyah. Because it was an American-based synagogue, there was English translation in the prayer books and the cantor translated some of what he was saying into English. Services ended a little after one and we walked back, ate a quick lunch, and went to the chof (beach).
In my opinion, there is nothing halachically wrong (kosher) about going to the beach on Rosh Hashannah. I didn't go swimming because I felt that that wasn't appropriate, but I saw nothing wrong with going to the beach on Rosh Hashannah. Although it was the first cooler day in a week, it was still pretty hot out so the beach breeze felt nice.
For dinner, the girls the I went with and I ended up in the same neighborhood as the night before. This time, though, the family was much more welcoming. The mother was 35 with 5 kids ranging in age from 2 to 9 and those kids were adorable. Food-wise, dinner was the same, except that we had dessert at the end. The Mother seemed genuinely interested in getting to know the 6 strangers she brought into her house. The Father still didn't say much, but he spoke to us a little.
For the second day of Rosh Hashannah, I went back to the shul alone. The people I went with the day before wanted to sleep. There were less people there and less children. If I understood the rabbi correctly, then I think he talked about the history of the Shofar. Of course, there were a few words (ok, more than a few) that I didn't understand so he could have been saying something else about the Shofar.
It was a very melodic (and English-translated) service so I will be heading back there for the fast on Saturday.
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