Within the past ten days I have observed two chaggim (definition: holidays) on Ein Dor. Rosh Hashanah (definition: head of the year; the Jewish New Year) began at sundown two Wednesday's ago. Many of my friends left the kibbutz to celebrate with their friends or family or to experience the chag (definition: singular of chaggim) in Jerusalem. I and seven others decided to stay here on Ein Dor. After most people left, we went into Afula where we bought many delicious fruits for snacking and different vegetables with which to cook. I tried fresh figs for the first time, and wow, have I been missing out. We returned home at four and began to get ready for our Rosh Hashanah dinner.
At seven, we congregated and walked together to a grassy area outside of the chadar. There, a stage had been set up with rows upon rows of elegantly prepared table settings. The tables soon filled with the kibbutz families. People of all ages had joined in this special celebration. The dinner included rikudim (definition: dances) and shirim (definition: songs) performed by different kibbutz members. My favorite presentation was a dance done by a group of children in which they emphasized the rhythm of the song through wooden sticks and plastic buckets. Then, dinner was served. The meats were absolutely delicious. Brisket with mushrooms and baked chicken in a prune and dried apricot sauce. I had my fill of gefilte fish and raisin challah as well. Following the meal there was a short movie produced by the kibbutz highlighting the past year. I recognized many faces from the chadar and from just walking around. After the film finished, I, along with my friend Ronnie, joined kibbutz members in rikud (definition: singular of rikudim). I knew a couple of the dances from rikud at camp, but most of them I simply learned on the spot. A bit later trays of honey and apples cake were brought out and we enjoyed our fair share of that, too. The rikud was definitely my favorite part of the night though!
The next day was pretty low key. We did some art projects in the morning to decorate our bayit (definition: house). We made a delicious pasta sauce with basil, garlic, mushrooms, and tomatoes from the previous day in Afula and in the afternoon Ronnie and I went over to the bayit of the mechanichim to talk with our mechaniah (definition: singular of mechanichim), Zak, about the Shmith. The Shmita occurs once every seven years and is known as the sabbatical year. The Torah says that during this year you are to let your land rest (specifically the land of Israel) and that you may only take from your land what grows naturally. One mustn't cultivate it. What the land produces without cultivation may be eaten by any person or animal, but sharing of the naturally grown fruits is very important.
We talked about the relevance of the Shmita in our lives today. First we talked about the land. There are a small portion of farmers in Israel today who observe the Shmita. If they do, they are allotted some money by the government to sustain themselves during the year, but it is a loss of income for most which is why so few participate. Though this is the literal observance of the Shmita, I do not find this meaningful. Zak, Ronnie and I began to discuss different ways that the Shmita could be more relevant to our beliefs. Since this year is representative of resting the land and equality, I suggested that Israel as a nation should try to spend the year in peace and allow the land to be used by whom ever is in need of it. We transitioned to speaking about resting in general. There is a rabbi in New York who suggested that for this Shmita, individuals should rest from technology-- not to say people should completely give up technology, but perhaps they could find a period during the day where no technology would be used. An interesting thought, but I found the idea a bit of a stretch.
Here's the thing, the Shmita is very specific to the land of Israel. I am fortunate enough to be in the land of Israel during the Shmita year. So, what am I personally resting from by being here on Workshop? Many things. I am resting from individual money which allows for equity and consciousness; I am resting from formal education which allows for self discovery, creativity, and a different perspective on learning; I am resting from dependence and parental authority which allows for independence, making my own, and choosing how I want to live.
Last night marked the beginning of Yom Kippur (definition: Day of Atonement). Building up to Yom Kippur, our madrichim and mechanichim ran different peulot on forgiveness, fasting, and change. This is one of the first times I've truly thought about the reasons for my fast. I considered what the chag would be like if I didn't fast, and I decided that fasting is part of the reason that Yom Kippur is special and that the fast adds symbolic meaning to the day. The pain of the hunger makes me consider how my actions throughout the year may have caused others pain. The fast allows me self reflection time as well, but in a way that would be different had I a full belly.
After a tasty dinner of pasta and salad, ten of us attended the reform Kol Nidrei (definition: literal: "all vows"; understood to mean: opening prayer on the eve of Yom Kippur and the name of the service) service on the kibbutz. I followed along the best I could given the service was entirely in Hebrew. The only shir (definition: singular of shirim) I recognized was able to join in on was Avinu Malkeinu (definition: "Our father, our God"). But it was hands down the shortest Jewish service I have ever attended, lasting barely 45 min.
Once we'd all returned from services, our entire kvutza headed outside where we each wrote a letter to a person that we were seeking his or her forgiveness. Then, we gathered together and about half the kvutza shared their letters. At the end, we were all raw with emotion. Seeing so many people so vulnerable made my heart ache, but the honesty will deepen our understanding of each other and create a closer kvutza.
This morning, I woke up early to attend morning prayer at the orthodox services (no other services were available). When the three of us walked in there were only four men, so we could not start prayer. Thankfully, within a half-hour, about seven more men arrived and a minyan could be made. We stayed for a little while longer, but found it quite difficult to follow along, so we left and enjoyed the peaceful walk home. The rest of the day was spent relaxing including reading, painting, and sleeping a little bit. I attended the evening reform service which I found quite calming and came home to a delicious break fast.
L'shana tova (definition: to a good year)!
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