December, Already
Rabbi Parker insists that the windows stay open during morning Gemara sheer. With open windows circulating air, germs are likely to filter out and leave us buchars nice and healthy. In the past it has been nice having a breeze coming into the room, and the view is definitely worthwhile (see the picture below); in the past the biggest problem with open windows is all the constant gun fire we hear in the background. The last few days, however, have been absolutely freezing, with temperatures in, say, the 50°-60° Fahrenheit range. Outside the weather may be pleasant, but that kind of wind blowing into a shaded, non-insulated room is excruciating. Picture a class full of guys wearing jackets and huddling over the their gemaras, trying their best to keep warm.
OK, maybe I am the only one on that level. Regardless, the following exchange took place:
“When did it get so cold?”
“Well it is December …”
December!?! When did that happen?!?
I legitimately have no concept of time when I am here. This first became fully evident when Halloween came and went without almost know realization. Halloween happens to be that holiday that shall not be mentioned as it is a Pagan celebration, and Torah Jews tend not to subscribe to idol worship. Halloween this year fell on a Saturday, and Jerusalem was in full Shabbat-mode. A few of us were playing chess and reading on a park bench outside when someone looked at their watch and noticed the date was the 31st. And that was that.
Thanksgiving crept up on us as well. It was a shame to miss the annual Rosenbloom Thanksgiving dinner, especially when hearing that I was the only of the cousins (most of whom are now spread out across the country) to be absent. However, I had an invitation to join in on an “ex-Patriots Thanksgiving” dinner with my cousins, the Coopers. I skipped out from class, hopped the bus to East Talpyot, Jerusalem, and joined around an entire apartment’s worth of family and family friends eating Turkey, stuffing, and the whole she-bang. The rest of the yeshiva stayed put, and the Yeshiva continued to function.
It’s not just holidays either. When I catch up with friends back home, it is a surreal feeling to hear about Midterms and how the Fall Semester is gearing for the final stretch. I feel as though I was just on campus, and for this academic year to be approaching the halfway point is truly bizarre.
But hey, time moves forward, and I have definitely decided to spend my year embarking on my own personal journey. I would go as far as to say that there is something very refreshing about removing myself from the basic day-to-day world in which I lived, to remove my self from my circumstances for another outlook on life. Last year I was focused on writing papers and making sure I had plans to go out during the weekends; in place of a senior thesis, I devoted much of my time and thoughts to writing a screenplay. In a sense I accomplished much, yet I felt highly unproductive. I received a degree from a prestigious university with little idea what to do with it. In a sense, my college career was nothing more than doing what was laid out for me, and putting up little resistance along the way.
Ultimately this is the biggest reason to spend the year in yeshiva: I have some serious life-evaluation that is long overdue, something that I realistically would not be capable of doing in Farmington Hills, or in Ann Arbor. As I saw it, a year of learning in Jerusalem promised a step in the right direction, and two months in, I feel confident in the decision.
When we first meet Abraham (actually, he is not yet Abraham, but Abram), G-d tells him “Lech Lecha,” (Go for Yourself) to the land of Israel. Specifically, the text writes:
Go for yourself from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.
Genesis 12/1
Lech Lecha. Go for yourself. Abraham is a righteous man and fit for the job G-d has in mind, but when he says “Go for yourself,” he is saying something truly interesting: by embarking on this journey, you yourself will benefit and grow.
The nature of picking up and going to Israel resonates strongly of these opening words of Parshas Lech Lecha. It is difficult to leave “my land, my birthplace, my father’s house” (particularly when Thanksgiving weekend passes through), just as it is bizarre to think that the seasons are changing back home without me realizing it, but this is a year for myself. Lech Lecha.
It’s December now, and for all I know it may already be snowing back in Michigan. Christmas advertisements might occupy store windows and newspaper circulars (that is, if there are still newspapers). The Detroit Lions are ready to call it a season, and students are gearing up for Finals. New years will come in time, and after that, Valentines Day, and so on. All the while, know I’ll be doing my best to keep up with it all.
****
As promised, here is a picture of the view behind the Yeshiva. Be sure to click on it to expand it. And what I said above about the gunfire is true, by the way. There is a police firing range within a few miles of our building.
