nationalism and the joy-factor

These were the countries of origin represented at the BBQ today:

Israel
England
United States
Turkey
India
Hong Kong

There were about 25 people, we spoke English and Hebrew, we ate good food, they offered me cigars and weren’t joking. They advised me on life, told me that everything will fall into place. I know this, I am certain of it, but I know that this is only true if one is proactive. I just want to be facing the right direction when the wind blows. Invite me, chances are I’m game.

The sun has just set on Yom Ha’atzmaut #58. You’ve never seen an Independence Day like this. The day is preceded by Memorial Day, with public ceremonies all over the country. Two memorial sirens, one in the evening and one in the morning, blare across the country for two minutes in which every vehicle and every person comes to a standing halt. I went to an evening memorial ceremony at Rabin Square in Tel Aviv. A handsome public personality MC’d the event, read poems, and introduced testimonies of the mothers and sisters of soldiers who have fallen in the past year. The mayor of Tel Aviv gave a short speech about moving forward in unity. Between these pieces, testimonies and slide shows of the fallen soldiers were broadcast on large screens around the square. After each soldier’s tribute, a different musician performed. Thousands of people sat on the stone floor of the square, singing or listening, some with tears in their eyes, some holding their lover’s hand, staring into space. People seemed to be there because it was a night not to be alone. It was a feeling of just being together.

Then, at sundown, Yom Ha’atzmaut began with fireworks displays all over the city. People took over the streets in central Tel Aviv, children young and old showered each other with shaving cream, yeshiva guys paraded, singing, waving Israeli flags, and thousands of people gathered for Israeli folk dancing and public sing-alongs, along with regular barhopping, block parties, and, by necessity, racial profiling at its most vigilant.

I went to the public sing-along at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, where thousands of people sat, stood, and danced maniacally to Israeli folksongs. Notably, it was mostly a kippah/skirt-clad crowd, and in the beginning, I felt self-conscious in my sleeveless dress (which was silly--my friends responded, "But this is Tel Aviv!"). Then as I got into the groove, I seriously enjoyed dancing with these women, fumbling through the Yemenite steps, or just doing the sloppy hora that I know from my adolescent run at American Bar Mitzvahs. Exhausted, I left in the middle of the festivities, at 3:30 AM.

Today was national BBQ day, like any country’s Memorial Day. I have to admit, it felt novel and refreshing to celebrate this holiday without the gravity of prayer. Still working on my religious joy-factor, I guess.