Pesach in Yoqniam

Yesterday, I took the bus from Dimona up to Yoqniam and I didn't get lost! Despite changing buses about 3 times, I still managed to get there and with plenty of time to spare before the chag started.

Yoqniam is at the foot of Mout Carmel, overlooking the Jezreel Valley. But of course I didn't bring my camera, so you'll just have to take my word for it that it was breath-taking. From her house I could see the monastery that Christians built on the sight where the Prophet Elijah challenged the priests of ba'al to a God v. god showdown (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elijah#Challenge_to_Baal ). From her house! She hikes up every now and then because it's pretty much her backyard. That's pretty damn cool.

Before chag started, I went with Yifat to the statue of Alexander Zeid, founder of HaShomer (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Zeid ). In the statue he's sitting on a horse, on a hill, looking out over the plains. We sat around, smoked some hookah and drank from coffee (yes, I had some too) with some of her friends. Apparently, it's the big chill spot in town. In American kids hang out in parks and people's basements and in Israel they hang out in ancient monasteries and Zionist monuments. Just saying.

I then went to shul with her father. I had never been to a Yemeni service before. Instead of singing, everything was chanted out loud by everyone at the same time. I had to keep my eyes on the siddur to whole time so I could follow along. I looked up once and wasn't able to figure out where we were until they stopped. The chanting has a wave-like pattern that builds up and comes down that combined with shuckling really pulls you in.

On the way home, her father made a comment about how I responded differently during the Kaddish. He said, "You say it that way and we say it our way because of the Exile. Since we were all over the place we developed different traditions. We don't know which one's right, so we each do our own until the Messiah comes and tells us how to do it." I thought that was a really nice way of looking at things.

On to the Seder. We sat at a long table that was covered with lettuce, onions and radishes. The Hagadah was pretty much the same as ours at home, except there was no English and there were parts in Yemeni Arabic (I wasn't able to follow it but I did make out "Long Hand and Outstretched Arm). It was surprisingly quick. Most of the Hagadah was chanted by her dad while the rest of us tried to follow along. I hadn't really gotten to eat anything all day other than a small snack, so after the first cup of wine (which I was told I had to drink all of and was in a very big glass) following along was a lot more difficult than at shul.

The matzah they used was more like pita than the matzah I'm used to. After Yifat's Dad tore off the Afikhoman, he wrapped it up in a challah cover and threw it over his shoulder like a pack and swayed side to side like he was walking off into the desert. Instead of horseradish, we used lettuce as maror and when it came time to make the sandwich, we wrapped the matzah in the lettuce instead of the other way around. Ma Nishtana was chanted by everyone, lead by her father, like the rest of the seder. When we came to part where there was a song, the women interrupted and got us all to sing. Most of the tunes were the same but there were a few new ones. During Hallel, instead of singing or reading silently, her father lead and after each line everyone responded "Hallelujah." He had me and Yifat's uncle each lead a part of it.

Today, after lunch, we hiked up one of the hills nearby that has the ruins of a 12th Century Byzantine church on top. It seems like there isn't a hill up north that is just a hill.

When chag finally ended today, we got on the train to come back home, but it was so crowded. We were squished up a against a wall where we made friends with two girls who were also unable to move. One of them just happened to be from Paramus and went to little Schechter (my elementary school) but was two years behind me (shout out Aliza Romirowsky, do you remember Dafna Barzilai/do you read my blog?). Just goes to show you how small the Jewish world is. I also ran into Hannah and Harel who got on the stop after us and just barely had room to breathe. Thankfully, when we got to Tel Aviv the train emptied (people were moving to slowly so I yelled "come on, time for the Exodus. Let my people go." Just when you thought I couldn't get any cooler...