Jerusalem Bus Explosion

   At around 6:30 p.m. yesterday evening, my U.S. History teacher came into our classroom and said, "I just got the worst text a person could receive, my wife goes 'you were almost just a widow.'" Of course the six of us in the class were all confused and slightly nervous to hear why his wife would say such a thing. Turns out, she had gotten off only three stops before the Egged bus number 12 in Jerusalem exploded, which set the bus next to it that she had been on in flames. Luckily, no deaths have been reported, but there are a few in critical condition and a total of 21 people were injured. As expressed by the Jerusalem Post, this event "was an unnerving reminder of the terrorists attacks on buses during the intifada more than a decade ago" (Eisenbud). Despite the fact that everyone here on EIE is safe, this explosion was definitely a major scare for everyone who knows anyone living in the Jerusalem area. It also reminded everyone here about why the security restrictions are so strongly enforced by our staff, especially the rule about no public transportation.
   Not only is it terrifying to hear about terrorist attacks occurring so close to our home, but it's also disappointing to be reminded that this conflict between Israelis and Palestinians doesn't seem to be getting any better, and is maybe even getting worse. Right now our Jewish History class is learning about Zionism and the modern State of Israel, so our discussions are always bringing us new insight on why these two peoples seem to never get along. More than once we have talked about the several solutions that have been proposed in order to create peace within Israel and a few of them seem like they could definitely work out, but as soon as we hear about an event like the one that occurred yesterday evening, my hope is lost. Multiple articles have explained what happened, and every one has different information because whether the event was an act of terrorism or not is still somewhat controversial.

The article I read was on The Jerusalem Post website at
http://www.jpost.com/Arab-Israeli-Conflict/Initial-report-Jerusalem-bus-explodes-on-way-to-Hebron-451611

The "Israel Problem" (Jewish History Blog Assignment)

Over the course of this semester, our Jewish History class has debated about what it means to be Jewish and how American Jews differ from Israeli Jews. At the end of every debate, we never seem to be able to find a concrete answer to either of these questions. However, this article talks about similar issues and states some of the same things that students in our class have pointed out. For example, the article discusses the problem with being a Jew from an intermarried family; the child has a less likely chance of continuing the Jewish traditions and following Jewish values when he or she grows up and raises a family of their own. Similarly, second generation (and those that follow) American Jews have inevitably assimilated into American society simply because it's difficult to strictly follow Halachah (Jewish law) in a society that doesn't base their economy on such rules. In class, we have discussed this issue before and I always argue the same point: I will never strictly keep Shabbat because I have a job that requires me to work on the weekends and I must drive my car in order to get to my job. Out of all reasons to not keep Shabbat, I feel as though this is the most practical and relatable. American Jews are surely assimilated, and that is why we differ from Israeli Jews. If America all of a sudden passed a law that said stores are not allowed to be open from Friday night until Saturday night, that would most likely anger more people than it would satisfy given that Jews are a minority in the United States. However, most of Israel follows this custom and that is part of their cultural society. Now, with these differences between American and Israeli Jews, it is important for American Jews to do something that is identifiable as Jewish. Of course what must and mustn't be followed is a controversial topic, but I think it's wrong for someone from an intermarried family to walk around saying, "I'm Jewish" when they don't even know the first thing about the history of the Jewish people or the blessing over the Shabbat candles. Therefore, American Jews must strive to educate those who don't already know about our people's history if we want American Jewry to survive.

Article link:
http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/the-israel-problem/

An Emotional Rollercoaster

   Other than the feelings I briefly described in my essay for Jewish History class, I experienced a large variety of emotions that were surprising to me. Similar to before I left to live in Israel for four months, I did not have any expectations of what to feel in Poland before we left. When we arrived in Warsaw, a gloomy atmosphere enveloped the group. Everyone could tell that we were feeling the same type of emotions: tired, run-down, and even bitter. Part of that is probably because we had just got off a four hour long flight that departed and 3 a.m., but the city itself seemed to reflect those feelings, as well. Warsaw still had a remaining communistic feel to it, and the atmosphere was cloudy and bleak. Overall, our starting day in Poland could have been much better.
   I was surprised with myself for only feeling extraordinarily sad twice out of all seven days, the rest of the time I felt bitter and melancholy. However, those two days were emotionally painful for most of us, it was not only me. The first time I cried was walking through the forest of Tykocin, where the Jews were forced to dig their own mass graves before being shot into them. I did not know what to expect, even though my Jewish History teacher had just read detailed accounts on what happened in the forest. Before we even reached the graves, I began to tear up picturing the innocent men, women, and children being forced to undress until no clothing remained on their bodies before the inhumane Nazis shot them to death. Even if one was fortunate enough to be missed by the thousands of flying bullets, they fell into the pit with the rest of their community and were buried alive. As we got closer to the site of the graves, what I saw was not at all what I had pictured in my mind. What I saw were three mass graves, all with metal fences built around them, and a large memorial made of stone in the middle. There were memorial candles and flowers and notes written in all different languages hanging from the trees and the fences and resting on the dirt that lied on top of the thousands of decomposed bodies. I felt a sadness in my heart toward what had happened here. I felt a sadness in my heart that was trying to become happy because of all the love and care that had surrounded the graves. But this sadness did not diminish, even after we walked out of the forest and onto the bus to continue our day. That sadness remained with me, it will always remain with me, because thousands of people were shot to death for no reason. Not a single member of the Tykocin community, or even the world's Jewish community, was rightfully given a proper funeral during the Holocaust.
   The second (and final) time I felt this deep sadness was at the death camp, Majdanek. I explained in my essay the one thing that shocked me most,

"I hesitantly walked up the steps of a monument that was built around the most horrifying sight my eyes have ever seen: 18,000 humans' pile of ashes. Never have I felt a more significant drop in my stomach. Never have I ever been more shocked to see such a thing with my own two eyes."

After walking up these steps and being forced to look at such a disgusting sight, a different feeling arose within me. This time it was not sadness: it was pure anger. I was angry that I was standing here, staring at a pile of 18,000 humans' ashes. I was angry that, when I turned around to keep myself from throwing up from looking at this pile of disrespect, I saw a cemetery. A cemetery that was filled with hundreds of individual graves for individual people that had individual funerals. A hundred yards away was a place where, when a person died, they were respectfully buried. And when I turned back around to look at this pile of ash, I was furious. I had stopped crying at that point, and all I felt was an empty pit in my stomach.

   These two moments impacted me in an unforgettable way. It is these two moments that will remain with me for the rest of my life, and I am more determined than ever to keep Judaism alive after seeing what I saw on this draining pilgrimage.

Jerusalem Mayor, Nir Barkat, Disrupted by Anti-Israel Protestors (J.Hist. Blog Assignment)

Much too often do we see or hear of anti-Israel protests on college campuses. Last Wednesday, April 6, Jerusalem's mayor, Nir Barkat, was invited by San Fransisco University's Hillel to speak at the school. Only ten minutes into his speech was he interrupted by a group of pro-Palestinian students chanting things like, "From the river to the see, Palestine will be free" and "Hey Netanyahu, what do you say? How many kids have you killed today?" After about 20 minutes of listening to these hateful chants, Nir Barkat tried his best to continue his speech in the corner of the room opposite the protestors using the microphone provided. However, the protestors had their own portable sound system and began chanting so loud that Barkat's speech became practically inaudible. Finally, he finished by stating that "Anyone who thinks that calls to violence and wild incitement will succeed in silencing us or deflecting us from our positions is seriously mistaken." Barkat left at 3 p.m. that afternoon, as scheduled. However, the protest leader proclaimed "We kicked Nir Barkat off our campus" which made them look even more ignorant.
It's sickening to see such disturbing protests take place at an event as small as a speech given by an Israeli mayor to only around 80 students. Several questions remained in my mind while reading this article such as, "what's the point in even protesting?" and "why do you think being annoying and rude is going to accomplish anything?" It just doesn't make sense to me. I realize that a lot of people on college campuses are anti-Israel and pro-Palestinian, and I get that they have the right to peacefully protest and the right to freely speak. However, I don't get why it's necessary to interrupt another pro-Israel group's opportunity to learn about the Jewish state and their people from someone as high-up as the mayor of Jerusalem. It's disrespectful, and in my opinion, they are veering farther and farther from reaching their goal by executing these irritating disturbances.

You can also see a couple of videos of the protest, along with the article, through this link:
http://www.jweekly.com/article/full/77319/sfsu-president-promises-full-investigation-after-protesters-disrupt-jerusal

Poland & The Holocaust (Jewish History Essay)

        It would be an understatement to say that our visit to Poland was one of the hardest and most emotional trips we have and fortunately will ever experience. However, besides the gloomy atmosphere and the freezing cold weather, I have to admit that I learned a lot more about the Holocaust than I expected given how much I have already been taught in school or in Hebrew class. We visited places like Warsaw, the Majdanek death camp, Lublin, Krakow, Auschwitz-Birkenau, and Lodz. Throughout the week, we not only focused on the tragic murder of more than 6 million Jews, but we also focused on the lives of the Jewish people in Poland before the Holocaust took place, as well as signs of resistance during life in the ghettos.

  In a small village, or shtetl, called Tykocin, Jews were accepted and their lifestyle flourished. The charter of rights that was established in Poland included several privileges that the Jews were granted under the protection of the Polish government. Within Tykocin, we observed several examples of Jewish life such as Jewish shops and restaurants decorated with Hebrew and Stars of David, especially in the Jewish Quarter. It was very common for Jews to be involved in business and trade, so that’s exactly the role they played in Tykocin, as well as other parts of Poland before the Holocaust. Tykocin, particularly, was around fifty percent Jewish before the Holocaust began and, therefore, was a very tight-knit community given that it was incredibly small. Thought to be a world within a world by some of its community members, the village of Tykocin was a colorful and prosperous society that gratefully accepted the Jewish people throughout the early twentieth century which brought me a rare joyous feeling on our bleak and depressing journey.

  Unfortunately, the vitality of Jews in Tykocin and the rest of Poland did not last as long as it should have. As we all know, when the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, the Jews were no longer accepted anywhere in the eastern part of the world. At first, Jewish people were forced into poor, cramped areas known as ghettos. In the ghettos, people were forced to live under unimaginably harsh conditions; there could have been anywhere around fifteen to twenty plus people living in each one-room apartment. As a result of these overcrowded living spaces, disease broke out and spread rapidly, causing the deaths of hundreds of people in the ghettos. Illnesses were not the Jews' only concern,  many also died of starvation due to the tiny rations of moldy and rotten food that were only sometimes given out. However, with the unthinkable tragedies occurring around them, the Jews began to commit acts of Iberleben: the Yiddish word for survival. These efforts of resistance ranged anywhere from begging children to violent uprisings. One particular story that stuck out to me was about a woman doctor who attended to children that were sent to the hospital in the ghetto. When the doctor found out that the Nazis were going to deport the children to one of the death camps, she made the troublesome decision to poison these helpless children to keep them from being sent into the gas chamber, and eventually the crematorium. Another outstanding story was about a man named Janusz Korczak who set up an orphanage for children in the ghetto, and when they were ordered by the Nazis to march out to their deaths, Korczak stood with them and was shot and killed with all his children. It’s important to learn about such stories because it shows that even through the hardship and torture that the Jews went through while living in the ghetto, they still managed to stand up and defend themselves with all the strength they had. Although some acts of Iberleben did not end up being as effective as one may have wished, it was the effort that counted along with the fact that the people still had some hope to survive while others truly believed that this was the ultimate end.

  While we did not get to visit every place that the Jews were dreadfully murdered in Poland, we did visit a few of the death camps in which our people were stripped of humanity. One camp in particular stood out to me with its exceptional preservation and its bitter atmosphere: Majdanek. Despite all the other horrifying places we visited such as Auschwitz-Birkenau and the forest in Tykocin where thousands of Jews were shot to death into massive ditches, Majdanek had more than just an emotionally dreadful impact on me; this death camp in particular was the one place I was finally able to visualize at least a fraction of the number of people that were unreasonably murdered during the Holocaust. This realization came to me after I hesitantly walked up the steps of a monument that was built around the most horrifying sight my eyes have ever seen: 18,000 humans' pile of ashes. Never have I felt a more significant drop in my stomach. Never have I ever been more shocked to see such a thing with my own two eyes. I have always imagined death camps exactly how they are described- full of dirty barracks, gas chambers, and crematoria- but I have never been able to comprehend the number of people that entered those camps without ever exiting, until that moment. That was the moment that I physically felt the appalling murders of my people in my heart, in my stomach, in my head. There, at that moment in time I was mentally impacted by the death that had enveloped the world during the Holocaust. Majdanek is the most well-preserved camp in the entire world and is alarmingly capable of being up-and-running maybe within a day or two, and this fact along with the terrifying images still stuck in my mind will remain with me for the rest of my life.

  Rabbi Emil Fackenheim wrote, “Jews are forbidden to hand Hitler posthumous victories, they are commanded to survive as Jews, lest the Jewish People perish.” This statement, or rather a commandment, may be considered the 614th mitzvah that is required for all Jews to follow. As a Jew myself, I plan to follow this command until the day I die; I hope to marry a Jewish husband and raise Jewish children, and even if I do not end up marrying a Jewish husband, I will fight to the end for my children to be Jewish and continue on my religion. Being Jewish is more than just following Halacha (Jewish Law) and tradition, it is educating future generations to carry on the Jewish religion, the Jewish culture. Without informing the generations to come about what happened to our people during the Holocaust, it could lead the future population to forget about the time in history when our entire people was almost wiped off the face of the earth. In other words, I completely agree with Rabbi Fackenheim’s statement: we must survive as Jews, and we must not let Hitler achieve his goal even after his death.

  Poland was not just a trip to learn about the history of the Holocaust. Our journey taught me to feel a personal connection to what happened there less than a hundred years ago, deeper than just knowing that I am a Jew like all the people who were stripped of their humanity in concentration and death camps. I was finally able to grasp the reality of the event, something that I never had the ability to do even with years of education on the topic. More importantly, our visit to Poland made me one hundred and ten percent prouder to be a part of Am Yisrael (the Jewish People). The amount of strength and integrity that the people had at the most difficult point of their lives was unbelievable, and led to some of the most extraordinary survivals imaginable. Unsurprisingly, the Holocaust was not the first time that Jews were attacked for being who they are, but hopefully it will be the last. It is our job as the future of Am Yisrael to thrive and flourish throughout the world, and to not let anti-semitism overcome our strength as Jews.