Home Shulin' It

Well, I just got back from an Out Shabbat, which I spent in Kochav Yair, a town around Ra'anana and Kfar Sabba*. I spent my free weekend at the house of the Dolgin family, and it was exactly how a Shabbat is supposed to be: relaxed and restful. There was good food and air conditioning and ice and no flies and broccoli and meat and rugelach and reading and backgammon and naps. Lots of good stuff. And, perhaps most importantly, good company.

Maya, 19, just came back from IDF training, where she was named chayelet mitztayenet (outstanding soldier), an award given out to just two of her 70 person group. Julia, 16, is learning how to drive, and correctly identified Israeli road signs that were utterly perplexing to me, especially before I realized that the signs were in kilometers. Noa, 14, did not talk to me while I was there, but allowed me to use her room while I was there. And the parents, Tammy and Michael. Tammy put me to work in the kitchen, where I made schnitzels and fried onions and sliced my finger. Michael, who taught me the value of "home shuling" (praying at home), ordered us a pizza for Saturday night and we watched the Yankees-Red Sox game on television (the Yankees won, 8-4, to win the AL East).

All in all, a very rewarding and ultimately relaxing weekend. I will probably be back in Kochav Yair for Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles. But for now, I'm back at the yeshiva, waiting for dinner, which I suspect will be Chilean sea bass marinated in a light lemon sauce, served with mashed potatoes and grilled baby vegetables, with a side of carrot-ginger soup or asparagus and okra salad cucumbers and cheese.

*Kfar Sabba roughly translates to "Village of Grandfather." Is it just me, or does that sound like an Israeli retirement home?