Post-Shabbat Ruah and Mah-Lo

First Thing's First

I haven't written a post in a while. In fact, I haven't written a post since the first one, which means I haven't written a stitch about my crusades course/program/trip, the ostensible raison d'etre* of this very web log. Here we go!

But first, a note on blogging: I'm inclined to radical honesty in real life,** uncomfortable as that makes me (admittedly) and those around me; in writing, I will only indulge that more, the counseling of those who warn of over-exposure and suchlike be damned. So fret not, dear reader, it's just me, and furthermore, bear in mind that it's all been done before.***

What We Did

Basically, we criss-crossed the Golan and Galil following in the footsteps of Jesus the Nazarene -- or, more accurate if not more to the point, following in the footsteps where some people, mostly more than a thousand years later, thought He had walked and taught and healed and died. So we went to Tabgha (site of the miracle of the loaves and the fishes -- but were there enough dishes?), Capernaum, the Mount of the Beatitudes ("Blessed is the geek, for he will inherit the earth," for example), Golgotha, and other places.

These towns and dig sites tended to have churches and/or ancient synagogues, which had something of a coolness factor, albeit without the expected soul-spirit stuff. At least not for me. In fact, I wasn't even so much plagued by the "why-am-I-not-feeling-anything-am-I-so-numb-and-empty-inside-that-I-can't-even-be-moved-by-this?" thing. (I guess that means I have my answer to that question...) The stations of the cross walk in the Jerusalem's City that is Ancient**** was actually incredible. Duh, they may be mis-attributed in a big way, but duh, that's hardly the point these days. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which housed the last few stations, is a study in mixology.***** Every denomination of Christianity lays claim to the Church, so each one controls some part of it. This leads to complications, however... See here, here, and here.
In the church itself, there is a surprising amount of uniformity, though, at least to these eyes: There are icons and altars and pews and candles and halos and maddens aplenty, everywhere you turn. I'm not good at this distinguishing thing. Sorry.

We also saw some crusader stuff. That is to say, most of the places we visited were sort-of-formally established as Christian sites and en-church-ificated during the centuries of crusading. But then there were places that were politically crusader-ish: Nimrod's Castle was pretty sweet, and Lord-of-the-Rings-like in its grassiness and stoniness and battleness. The Horns of Hattin (Qarnei Hittin) was not exciting visually, but the battle that took place there ("when the battle was done, the blood of the dead came up to the knees") was recounted to us in situ, and that was pretty damn cool.

During this time, we were led by our brave professor, Dr. Helen Gaudette, our guide, Tikva, and driver, Cushi. Tikva knows much, leads magnificently, and teaches music fun-ly. Cushi, a settled Bedouin, brought us to his home, where we met his family, ate and drank some, and generally spent an enjoyable afternoon-evening in each other's company. 'Twas nice indeed.

When our tours with Tikva and Cushi were at an end, we relocated to Jerusalem, where we stayed for eight days. There, we dug in our heels (is this an expression?) and geared up for the main part of our course, The Game.****** The Game is a pedagogic tool that reminds me much of skits put on in camp on the Ninth of Ab or in opening tokhnit.******* We the students, in order to form a more perfect crusade (nothing came to mind, guys; my agony over this failure far outstrips yours, believe me), became the Council of Acre in 1148, and were to debate on and decide whether or not to launch the second Crusade, then who would be its leader, then which city would be the first target. Each of our characters had her/his own (secret) agenda, and ze had to obtain hir personal objectives. I was Fulcher, Patriarch of Jerusalem and overseer of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and I had a pretty obvious agenda: I wanted the crusade to happen, I wanted to be chosen as its leader, and I wanted a city other than Damascus to be our target. I only got the first one.
:-(
I was a really bad actor, even though I had prepared for the debates and written spanking good essays towards the debates... (We had to write short-ish essays laying out our positions. I didn't sleep much during Jerusalem week. Others slept less. It was grand.) ... Until the second half of the second day, when I whipped out the I-can-be-a-complete-jerk-when-I-need-to-be part of my personality (or, ahem, Fulcher whipped out the ... part of his personality, as you prefer) and destroyed one of the other candidates; and the next day, when I gave the best speech of my entire life, citing our hallowed histories of Middle Earth, specifically the battle at Helm's Deep, when the riders of Rohan came charging down the hill, destroying the orc armies laying siege to the fortress. I feared that, in surrounding Damascus, we'd similarly expose ourselves to the orc-like armies of the savage and clever Nur-ad-Din of Mosul. What I'm trying to get at is, I kicked some war-council-naysaying ass. And it was wonderful. And then my side lost the vote. And it was wonderless. And then The Game, and The Class, was over. And it was wonder-neutral.

Other Things

Honestly, they'll just have to wait. This is long, and the hour is late, and the degrees are few, and the parties are a-waitin'.

The next blog post, I hope, will come sooner than a month from now. And there will be more, or other, than just summaries of things. Thanks, and goodbye!


Notes and Asides, for Your Pleasure

* Yes, yes I did just pull out a pretentious, intelligentsia-employed, high/cultured English (aka , in this case, French) phrase.

** "In real life" denotes in person, as a general rule. Over the course of this program, to my friends and instructors and such, I would often return to this trope, referring to my typical comportment and reception throughout the year, in the company I usually keep. For example, I am less wanting-to-be-and-successfully-being-the-center-of-attention-y in real life than I was in this group; for another, I am found less funny and more ugh-that's-awkward-than-aww-that's-kind-of-endearing-awkward in real life than I was for these three weeks.

*** I like this quote. I can't call to memory where I got it from, but I think it's in at least about five songs. Point is, 'tis true, friends.

**** See previous post. ;-)

***** As in the study of mixing. Not mixing in terms of races or ethnicities or religions or whatever (in other, 11th-grade Jewish history, words, not mischlinge-style), but the way Snapple comes up with new flavors. Anyone remember when Kris accidentally put together a batch of Lemonade and a batch of Iced Tea, thanks to which we have the -- actually a-ma-zing -- Lemonade Iced Tea flavor? No? Well, I guess that is the factum less remembered by, and that has made all the difference.
Also, if so, "a study in mixology" sounds redundant, but isn't. Think about it, a'ight?

****** It should be noted that this does not refer to the The Game as found on Wikipedia, which I just made you lose. (Sucka!)

******* The ninth of Ab is the saddest day in the Jewish year: According to tradition, both Jerusalem temples were destroyed, the decision that Israel would wander in the wilderness for forty years, and various other tragic national events occurred on this date.
Opening tokhnit is the set of plays and things the staff puts on for the campers as they get off the bus at the beginning of the session, setting the tone for the theme and narrative of the coming month.
Point is, they're kind of fun and cute and educational, and they involve role-playing and costumes and, more often than not, replicating some kind of violence. Guten zeiten, yo.