Last year before Pesach (Passover), I was chatting with an Orthodox American friend via the internet. “Do you make only one seder?” she asked.

The question surprised me.  I think she was confused because in the US, the Reform observe one day of Yom Tov while Orthodox and Conservative Jews (at least in theory) observe two. (See note below for a more detailed explanation.)

In Israel, practically the only people who observe two days of Yom Tov are tourists or those studying here for the year. And an increasing number observe the second day partially or ignore it completely, with rabbinic approval. I explained to my friend, “Even the Neturei Karta (the most extreme of the Orthodox groups) observe only one day of Yom Tov in Israel.”

My son is serving in a hesder unit, where he combines religious study with army service. Everyone in his unit is religiously observant. But the officers aren’t, which led to an amusing incident.

A large number of his fellow soldiers are American-born. They either made aliyah with their parents, like my son did as a baby, or serve as lone soldiers. When the soldiers were let out the day before the Passover seder, their officer instructed the unit to return to base Tuesday evening after the the first day of Yom Tov. But he gave a permit to the Americans—at least the ones who were obviously immigrants or lone soldiers, as my son wasn’t included—to come back Wednesday evening. The soldiers were mystified but in the army, you don’t ask questions.

The last day of Passover falls on Sunday evening/Monday, and since it is so soon after Shabbat soldiers receive leave for both together (or neither). When the officer released them Friday morning, one of the American soldiers asked whether they would be getting another permit to return a day late, on Tuesday. The officer didn’t understand the question. “You know why you got that permit, don’t you? Yom tov sheini shel galuyot.” *

The soldiers didn’t have the nerve to explain the officer’s mistake. But everyone in that unit, including lone soldiers, celebrated just one Seder and will be eating chametz this Tuesday like the rest of the country. Even the orangutans.

Note: Outside of Israel the days known as Yom Tov include the first two and last two days of the week-long holiday of Passover, two days of Shavuot (Pentecost) the first two days of the week-long holiday of Sukkot (Tabernacles), and two days of Shmini Atzeret/Simchat Torah (Festival of the Rejoicing of the Torah) immediately following. In Israel we observe only one day of Yom Tov at a time, as described in the Torah.  So we have one Passover seder and one day less of Passover and Shavuot. Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah observances is combined into one day. Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), also a Yom Tov, is observed for two days by Orthodox Jews everywhere. The reason for the extra days has to do with possible confusion about their correct dates in ancient times.

There are two grades of observance during Pesach and Sukkot: The days of Yom Tov (lit. good day) at the beginning and end of the holiday involve  restrictions including driving and operating electrical applicances. The intermediate days (except for Shabbat) are more like weekdays except for a few minor restrictions and the central observance of the holiday (matzah on Pesach and eating in the sukkah on Sukkot).

*The second day of the festival, observed in the diaspora.

Related:

The Number One Reason for Making Aliyah

Previous Passover Posts

Tweet This Post

Don’t expect much blogging on the subject, but one of my sons is preparing for his mandatory three-year army service.

A commander from my son’s future division came to the house to answer our questions. The commander wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, as pre-army home visits didn’t exist when he enlisted. The program, about a year old, is intended to increase motivation among combat soldiers. We found out where my son would be training, how often he would come home (two weekends out of three, at first) and the different units within the division. I asked what my son should bring with him and he said, “Clothes.”

Another boy from the neighborhood will be in the same unit. When I ran into his mother and mentioned it to her. Ani be-histeria, she said. I’m not. At least not yet. Like it would do me any good.

Tweet This Post

Harriet Levin, next to a picture of her son (Photo: Orly Zeiler)

Today marks the observance of Yom Hazikaron. Sirens went off last night and will sound again this morning,  with memorial services taking place around the country.

Ynet interviewed Harriet Levin, an American whose son Michael was killed in the Second Lebanon War:

“Since his birth, I knew he would come to Israel and enlist in the IDF,” she said. “It was his dream, and every visit to Israel just made it stronger.” During 2001, at the height of the Intifada, he studied in Israel for several months. After witnessing the security situation, he determined not only to enlist, but to go to a combat unit.

Michael Levin followed his dream, enlisted and joined the paratroopers. When the Second Lebanon War broke out, he was visiting family in Philadelphia. He packed his bags and told his family, “I have to go back.”

“After the war, we were told that he was originally assigned to guard in Hebron during the war, but he insisted on joining the fighting, even though the IDF prefers not to send lone soldiers (those with no family in Israel) to the front line,” Harriet said.

Before he left, Michael was resolute in talking to his father about what would happen if he didn’t make it back from the war. He said he wanted to be buried at the military cemetery on Mount Herzl.

When the family took him to the airport, his twin sister, Dara, said she knew at that moment that it would be the last time she would see him.

She missed his last phone call and only heard his voicemail saying, “it’s crazy what’s happening here, it’s just hell. We’ll talk when it’s over.” They never got to.

May Michael’s memory, and the memory of all who have given their lives to defend Israel, be for a blessing.

Hat tip: Hadassah Levy

Tweet This Post

Tweet This Post

Tweet This Post

My daughter entered ninth grade this year. This year she has “the best teacher and the best class.” She was able to request a number of friends, and they’ll be together for the next four years.

Her school has six grades, each with about eight classes of thirty girls. The six grades are divided into three batim (lit. houses), each with its own building, vice-principal, secretary, advisor, and two teachers who serve as grade-level coordinators.

The school operates several large volunteer projects:

1. All ninth graders volunteer in a public gan (kindergarten) once a week. My daughter catches a van from school at 7:30 to take her across town, where she assists the teacher for two hours. Girls coming from out of town, like the ones in my younger daughter’s gan, volunteer close to the school so they don’t have to commute twice. They gave the girls (unfortunately bright green) t-shirts so they will be recognized. Good marketing, so long as I don’t have to wear that color.
2. The school runs a country-wide organization to collect used appliances and furniture and redistribute them to the needy. Seventh-graders work in the warehouse; during the summer my daughter took a few shifts answering the phone to schedule pickups.
3. Students volunteer in the special-education gan right on school premises. My daughter hasn’t worked there yet, but girls in her class have.

The school is handicapped accessible, has an ethnically heterogeneous population (Jewishly speaking), and boasts the third highest bagrut (matriculation exam) scores in the country, after two secular schools in Haifa. It discourages graduates from enlisting in the army but many still do (my daughter isn’t interested).

When my kids were younger someone told me that I would be happier with the girls’ schools in Israel than the boys’. The girls don’t have the pressure of gemara (Talmud), leaving little time for anything except the bagrut requirements.

[I tried to stay positive all the way through.]

Tweet This Post

Then there’s the story of dancers forced to cover up for the Jerusalem bridge dedication ceremony. The girls, aged 6 to 13, were told to wear hats and long skirts; see this report for before and after pictures. Some parents respond here. According to this update in the JP, the organizers chose the black ski caps to make a point.

Finally, the army has been giving some teenage girls trouble about an automatic religious exemption. I wonder if any haredi girls have been hassled.

Tweet This Post

School supply list:

• Ten 40-page notebooks “esser shurot” (10 lines), a math notebook, and ten plastic covers (not eleven?) If you can find the cheap ones with the brown covers, buy them. The plastic “atifot” help them last longer and the teachers provide decorative pages to slip under the transparent covers, making them easy to identify. Of course they don’t need 40 pages. There are at least six different kinds of notebook paper, and I often come home with the wrong kind.
• An assignment book; for first grade you can buy a generic “yoman machberet,” which is only slightly more expensive than a regular notebook. It contains days of the week but no dates.
• Two machbarot chachamot ( “smart” notebooks), one each for math and writing. When I bought them for my daughter they cost five times more than a regular notebook and she wrote on exactly one page. Of one. I’m going to wait on those.
• Ten colored plastic folders (tikiot shekef) in the following colors: blue, green, purple, pink and white. I happen to have a bunch of black and green ones; should I buy new ones? Do I have to have exactly two of each color? (My answers: no.)
• A set of mapal (plastic) dividers. I have some cardboard ones; tough.
• A large ringed notebook, not from mapal.
• A large, elastic, mapal folder for storing papers.
• A denim pencil case for storing math supplies, recommended (i.e. it’s the most important item on the list).
• Pencil case, 3 pencils, eraser, sharpener, scissors, glue stick, a package of colored pencils, pink, yellow and green highlighter markers, a package of thin markers, a package of pastel crayons and a small ruler. I am going to wait at least a few days before buying most of this stuff.
• Art supplies–to be announced.

Tweet This Post

After returning alone from NY, shlepping books and a plane ticket with a date different from the one on his itinerary (they managed to get him on the flight anyway), he found a message from modiin (the army intelligence division). We had been told that the most interesting and intellectually stimulating job in the army is mechkar modiin or intelligence research, but he hadn’t heard from them and we had just about given up. The message said he needed to answer a few questions by a certain date, after which they will presumably invite him for tests.

He took tests at the army’ computer division headquarters recently. If he did well (and they said that most of the recruits who get to that stage pass) he may be eligible for a pre-army six-month programming course lasting 15 hours a day (7am-10pm). They claimed that the course would cost NIS 90,000 were it offered in Israel, which it isn’t. After that, he would serve three full years in whatever division they sent him to, and commit himself to an additional 2.5 years of “keva,” (a translation escapes me at the moment, but it means that he would work more reasonable hours and draw a regular salary).

He would need to undergo security clearance. (“Does your mother have a blog?”)

All of the division headquarters are in the Tel Aviv area so he could live at home (“until I get married”). At the end of all this, graduates, hand-picked by the army for their skills with five years programming experience under their belt, are snapped up by employers. He likes that idea.

Our friend, who served in “keva,” told him that the most frustrating part of being in keva as opposed to civilian life is that you must do things according to army regulations, no matter how ridiculous.

According to my son, they will hold his place in the course even if he wants to stay in yeshiva for twenty years. I reminded him that he had previously mentioned ten years. He replied: Maalin bakodesh ve-lo moridin.*

*Rationale used by the sage Hillel for increasing the number of Chanukah candles each night instead of the reverse.

Tweet This Post

At any rate, he is not eligible for combat despite his good health. The army said he doesn’t weigh enough.

Tweet This Post