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New eyes on an ancient land I'm still not used to how Jewish this country is. It sounds weird. "Of course it's Jewish. Israel, Israelites, the Jewish State..." But I still don't grasp the concept. When I went to my teacher's house for Yom Kippur, I asked her, "Is this entire apartment complex Jewish?" She looked at me like I was crazy. "Honey, this entire country is Jewish. Did you mean is this entire apartment complex Orthodox? In that case, yes, everyone who lives here is Orthodox." I felt stupid for asking the question. It's weird coming from a country where my neighbor's religion isn't a big deal. Here, the apartment complexes are configured for Shabbat and holiday use -- around religious laws. For the first time, my religion doesn't have to conform to the world around me. The world around me conforms to my dietary restrictions, my off days, and my clothing. Everything here pertains to Judaism -- the advertisements, the restaurants, and even the graffiti. Everything here has a touch of Torah. I find it unbelievable. And then I feel crazy for doubting the Jewishness of the Jewish state. Is the entire apartment complex Jewish? I know it is. Of course it is. Is this restaurant Kosher? Although I need to be cautious, 99 out of 100 times, the answer is yes. I know 80 percent of the population is Jewish. So why am I still in this American state of mind? I've been here for one month; it seems like enough time to drill this concept of a completely Jewish state into my head. I've seen one church for every 50 synagogues. And I'm still not aware that I live in a Jewish state? It's the strangest feeling. I went from being a part of one of the most contested minorities in the world's biggest melting pot to being in the dominating majority in a country barely the size of my home state. My emotions are a mixed bag; some people would find it liberating to finally be in charge, to have their people's religious laws govern the land. I don't know whether I'm still weirded out or if I feel somewhat empowered by it. It's interesting that it's illegal to drive on Yom Kippur and that government offices shut early on Friday. But on the other side, there are basically no challenges to living a religious life like there are in America. Employees don't have to explain to their bosses why they can't come into work for three days. Friends don't have to tell their peers why they can't go out to eat at McDonald's with them. Nobody has to explain why they don't go out Friday night, why they wear black boxes on their foreheads, or why they're wearing a wig if they're not a cancer patient. Everything is automatically understood, and more importantly, respected. Nobody gets called a nasty word or gets a "Heil Hitler" when they walk to synagogue. Women don't get laughed at for their long sleeves in summer and men don't get laughed at for their long black coats and fur hats. Everything here is embraced, and to a degree, expected. Although anti-Semitism is on the rise in Israel, I would have never known that without reading an article in The Jerusalem Post about it. There are no swastikas scrawled on the walls of Jewish institutions, just quotes from the Torah scrawled on bus stops and stairwells. I've finally learned why Israel became a haven for persecuted Jews around the world. There are Jews from every nationality. So far, I've seen Ethiopian, Chinese, Japanese, French, Italian, Russian, Spanish, and American Jews, as well as pretty much any other nation from where a Jew might originate. No longer do I have to explain why I'm wearing skirts, why I won't eat a cheeseburger, or why I can't see a movie on Friday night. It's not just understood, it's respected. There's no intimidation to keep your religion here, no matter which religion it is. Jerusalem, the holiest city in the world, is a refuge for the world's three major religions. Never before did I ever feel such pride. No longer do I have to hide that I'm Jewish. And it's liberating. |