Today was a really tough day. I just could not get motivated at all. But I still somehow managed to get to 10,028 words, most of which are pure junk. Thank you for your insightful comments and opinions…they have helepd me to keep accountable (knowing I’ll be posting at night), shaped my thoughts, and slog through. Two things: Questions, and then a little excerpt from the novel (which is only fair given how much you’ve helped out.)
1. If you’ve flown to Israel, who usually greets you? Do they greet you in Ben Gurion with that wave of people? If not to Israel, have you had any really awkward airport greetings, especially with people you don’t know?
2. What is the goal of the Orthodox men who ask you to put on tefillin in the airplane? Is it because it’s a mitzvah?
And now, a part my crappy, unedited novel! Michael is on the plane to Israel and ready to meet his friends’ relatives, and hopefully, his future wife.
Michael finished the last of his Coke and licked the crumbs off the oily plate. Genya [his best friend, short for Eugene] pulled down his arm. “Hey, man, I’ll call them [his relatives that know this girl Michael can meet] tomorrow morning for sure.” Michael waved his keys and headed off to his Maxima. He drove back home, petulant. Why did he just agree to go to Israel? What if he met a girl there, best case scenario? Then what if he somehow accidentally impregnated her and she demanded that he have nothing to do with the baby and he would have to stay in Israel to fight for his legal rights as the father and it took a long time to go through the Israeli court system and he stayed there so long that the had to go to the army and he was in the Gaza strip on weekdays and on weekends he was fighting with his baby mama while his previous son sat in his Greco baby stroller playing with Cheerios, oblivious to the tension? And then one day he was called into a particularly dangerous mission in the West Bank, protecting the secret house of the Prime Minister with the Mossad? And then in the secret house would be the most beautiful Palestinian woman he’d ever seen, and his Zionist sensibilities would fail him and then in the background a headscarf would fall to the floor and nine months later-
“Mishenka!” his mom called, opening the garage door as he parked his car and wiped her tiny hands on her apron. “I made zharkoye, come eat it before it gets too cold,” and she was right, he could smell the meat juices already.
Bon apetit!
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
love the length of your sentences…..awesome writing, girl!
arriving in Israel – usually there is a brother or two waiting for me, or a sis in law…and i always cry when i reach the arrivals hall, whether i am arriving or waiting for others. there is so much emotion in that hall. it gets to me.
the tefillin – i think there is something kabbalistic, that if you have put on tefillin at least once in your life you get a different reward in the world to come, than if you never put tefillin and are a man. but i am not sure.
Thanks for the tefillin pointer-I don’t know if the men who came up to us (well, to Mr. B specifically) were kabbalistic, but it happened at least 3 or 4 times on our trip.
1. My parents always burst into the area where travelers are trying to get out and find a cab, and are interrupting the passenger flow, while my mother kisses me until i suffocate .
2. Never happened to us, but I know people would harrass your man to death to join the minyan, if they don’t have enough participants.
1. Your parents sound awesome.
2. Anything for a minyan
When did he get from the plane to the car? My memory of flying, in general, and landing in Israel, in particular, is the big wave of emotion/clapping/etc that happens upon landing in the Eretz again.
Also, security. Security security security. Big freaking hassle. (But not as big as trying to get on the plane to fly OUT again.)
If he’s not Israeli, how does he have a car there? (Sorry, I’m just confused by going in mid-story)
1. I only landed in Israel with a group of other college kids, being met by our program advisor. We were sooooo tired. We’d been up about 24 hours, getting from NYC to London to Ben Gurion, with weather delays.
2. Well, as a woman, I would be very suspect of the goals of any Orthodox man asking me to don tefillin ANYWHERE, let alone on a plane.
He’s being picked up in a car by his friend’s relatives, sorry if that’s confusing.
The emotion and the clapping is a part of the story, too. And the security. God forbid a blonde Hebrew-speaking girl fly to Israel.
2. Ha!
1. Last time I flew to Israel I was greeted at the exit by…nobody. I went on to the car rental, got my car and waited for my cousin to come by so that I could follow him home to Rishon Le Zion. This was pre-GPS. I have a knack for seeing people I know in most unexpected places. While waiting for the car rental clerk to process my reservation, I was approached by my parents acquaintances from York, PA! Apparently they had flown over on the same gigantic flight out of NYC.
2. yes, it is a mitzvah…not the asking, but rather the act of laying the tefillin is key, as it reminds Jews who they are. The asking is just the typical Chassidic encouragement to do the right thing. It is written in the Torah “and you shall bind them a sign upon your arms and they shall be for a reminder between your eyes”. Personally I think it is great when men practice this ritual…
3. I know, this was not among the requested items…just a thought, though. Michael lives at home and drives a Maxima. I suspect (not sure why) it is the new truly beautiful model. He may be someone who likes nice things? Is status expressed through things and labels on them important to him? If so, then his imaginary kid is not riding in a Graco stroller like my kids did… “his previous son” is riding in a Maclaren while enjoying his Cheerios. What is the difference? About $150.
1. Brave, brave lady. Also, you run into the most random people in Israel!
2. So the point of the asking is that the Chassidim believe that every man should lay tefillin and fulfill one of the mitzvot? Thanks for clarifying.
3. Michael likes nice stuff, but not too nice. He lives at home mostly because he has no self-traction and just goes with the flow, which is one of the reasons his trip to Israel is so surprising to everyone, including himself. He likes all the middle class things. To be fair, every Russian male I know (Mr. B included) has had at least one Maxima in his life, so I’m poking fun of the situation. Thanks for the tip about Maclaren…I’m not sure everyone who didn’t have kids would know that that was, and Graco is an easy brand to identify, I think.