B'Simcha

The first leg of the journey is over. I left Israel on Sunday to head for the south of Ukraine. But first, I had to layover for 17-hours in Istanbul! So, I got to my $12 hostel at around midnight, then woke up early yesterday to see what I could of the city before heading back to the airport in the early afternoon for a short flight to Simferopol, Ukraine (even though the flight was only about 90-minutes, they served a meal). So, obviously, I didn't see much of Turkey, and the areas I did hit (Blue Mosque, Grand Bazzar)were so infested by tourists that it made the experience feel very rushed and inauthentic. What did I expect though? I had only a few hours to look around. The city however, as you know or have imagined is really gorgeous, the people are friendly, and the Turkish coffee very strong.

...

Now here I am in Krasnoperekopsk, Ukraine. A town of about 30,000. Jordan has a cozy little studio apt. where I'll spend the next 3-weeks (aside from the 7-8 days of travel we've sketched out). As I type, he's making us a huge batch of hummus, that will feature the tahini I smuggled here from Israel.

Oh yeah, Israel! Let me backtrack a bit. As I mentioned in my last post, the trip ended in the magically, mystical northern town of Tzfat. The birthplace of the Kabbalah and Kabbalat Shabbat. Most of the town's resident's are artists, and almost everyone in Tzfat is a very observant jew. Meaning, that on Friday nights, and Saturday's, you'll rarely see a car in motion, or a shop open.

It was so incredible and special to spend Shabbat there. After having Friday-night dinner with our group on the Livnot campus, I took a walk through the windy, cobble-stoned streets with three other guys from the trip. We were feeling especially rambunctious and spiritual as we made our through town singing the few songs we had learned earlier that day. At one point, Travis, who recently converted to Judaism (and couldn't possibly be happier about it), yelled a hearty "Shabbat Shalom" to a group of about twelve young black-hatters walking about 50-yards away. As soon as they heard this (they probably ranged in age from 8-14), they ran over to us with seemingly no hesitation and began to embrace us with hugs, kisses, and well wishes. They didn't speak a word of English, but that didn't matter at all! They formed ad-hoc circles with, and around us, and began dancing without a hint of self-consciousness. Then together we all sang "Ivdu," my new favorite song.

Ivdu Et Hashem B'Simcha
Bo'u Lfanav Birnana

The message is, basically, The service of God should be done with joy.

Which is, admittedly, a tenant of Judaism I either never embraced, internalized, or perhaps even learned. However, that night, and during many other moments of my trip, the spirit of Ivdu coursed through me like it never had before.

Birthright Mission...accomplished.

Finally

Hey Team!,

It's been very difficult to find time to check my e-mail, let alone think about composing a blog post. But here I am, in the ancient city of Tzfat in the north of Israel. I just left the other 39 people on my Livnot Birthright trip to let you know how amazing its been to connect/re-connect to Judaism and Israel. As I type, the rest of the group is dressed in costume, celebrating Purim. I'm wearing my hiking boots, tight, black long underwear, and eye-liner whiskers for I am Mr. Mistofolis! I know I know, it isn't actually Purim, but our imaginative trip leaders thought this a good time to simulate the holiday as a way to bring the group closer together, while educating us about the true meaning of the holiday.

The goal of this trip, seemingly, is to provoke our 21-26 year old selves to think about the way Judaism and spirituality fit into our lives, while simultaneously building a really intimate, comfortable, and loving community amongst ourselves. And for the last 10 days (4 more to go), that's pretty much what has been going on.

To get a feel for the things I've been doing, click here.

I spent today playing with a dozen Ethiopian Jewish immigrants at an absorption center (mainly blowing up balloons, letting them play with my camera, and carrying them on my shoulders), exploring the art galleries and schwarma restaurants of Tzvat (I ate meat...SO GOOD!), and napping in the cave that I'll call home for the next 4 days on the Livnot campus (pictures pending).

I miss you, and my Detroit routine, but more so, I feel so lucky to be unhinged for the next four-months. I'm adapting to life out of a back-pack, and am very excited for the next leg of my journey (I head to Ukraine on Sunday to see the indomitable JB).

I'll check back soon.

All My Love.

Send me updates about what's going on with you!

Shalom,

Z

Motorcity Rebound

I'm working on a new public radio show called, State of the Re:Union. The idea is to show listeners how we are more alike than we are different and the many ways our differences are celebrated. Multi-facted artist Al Letson employs his talents to discover how a particular city, town or area creates a community. From Washington, DC to Jena, Louisiana, SOTRU will travel our great country one significant spot at a time to capture the stories, the challenges, and the culture that not only make it unique, but work together like chords to compose our rich commonwealth.

Transcending a glorified travel guide, State of the Re:Union finds the resonating fragments that create the cornerstone of every community. Hear from the artists, activists, politicians, teachers, preachers and every day people that are making a difference arranged with the music, sounds and styles born of the area in focus.

We just finished work on the Detroit episode, and now you can listen below. We'd love your feedback!

Powered by Podbean.com

Mumbai

In other cities, if there’s an explosion, people run away from it. In Mumbai, people run toward it — to help. Greater Mumbai takes in a million new residents a year. This is the problem, say the nativists. The city is just too hospitable. You let them in, and they break your heart.