Right now, after months of
preparation, the Iraqi military, together with the US, Kurdish fighters, Shiite
militias and the more than tacit cooperation of Iran, have started the long
awaited operation to kick ISIS out of the second largest city in Iraq - Mosul. ISIS
has held Mosul for the past two years, mostly enjoying the support of its Sunni
majority population, and preparing it for just such an attack.
But I’m not going to talk
about Mosul today.
In the meantime, the U.S.
presidential campaign is getting more and more ugly. But I’m not going to talk
about that today either, even though here in Israel it’s the only topic
people want to talk to me about.
This column is about a phenomena
so singular and unique that it can only happen in one country in the world –
Israel.
Example – I don’t know of
any other country where for twenty-four hours, it is illegal to drive a motor
vehicle on any street or road, whether an unpaved street in an Arab village or
Jewish kibbutz, the main arteries in cities and towns or the modern highways
between Tel-Aviv, Haifa, Jerusalem, Beer-Sheva, Elat, etc.
But I’m getting ahead of
myself.
The phenomena is called
“The Holidays”, and it’s the only time in the year where there is a cluster of
major Jewish holidays, with different customs, that throws everyday life and
routines into total organized chaos for three weeks.
As summer slowly draws to
a close, you can sense a change of atmosphere and urgency that grows by the
day. Schools start, but students only go for a few days a week.
The most common phrase you
hear is “after the holidays”, meaning: because these are short weeks, and the
weather is too nice to waste, let’s deal with this later.
I belong to the majority
of Israeli Jews that define ourselves as “secular traditional”, meaning we
don’t wear yarmulkes, don’t keep kosher, we drive on Saturday, stock up with
frozen pita for Passover, and have no idea where the local synagogue is. Nevertheless,
we celebrate Shabbat and the holidays in our own family traditions.
The first holiday was Rosh
Hashanah. We celebrated it by having a big family dinner the evening before,
explaining the various traditions to our grandkids and their friends (who took
turns getting red in the face trying to blow my shofar). Next morning few
Israelis went to synagogue (which is free here). Most got up early and headed
to the National Parks, which were packed. We spent the day at the beach.
Ten days of shopping and
wishing everyone (whether you knew them or not) an “easy fast”, and that
they’re fate be sealed in the “right” book, brought us to Yom Kippur.
Another big family
dinner…and then things got really unique...and very Israeli.
At about 6:30 pm all TV
and radio stations went off the air. But you don’t turn off the sets. You leave
them on and tuned to several TV and radio stations that go into “quiet mode”.
Nothing will be broadcast until Yom Kippur ends…or Israel is attacked, in which
case the broadcasts will start simultaneously with the countrywide air-raid sirens.
Around the same time all
motor vehicle traffic on the roads, highways, streets and alleyways in Israel gradually
draws to a stop as the last family members rush to get home.
Nobody…Jew, Arab, Muslim,
Christian, Druze, Baha’i, Atheist, Israeli, tourist, diplomat, king, friend or
foe is allowed by law to drive on any road in Israel for 24 hours (unless
Israel is at war). The only rare exceptions are ambulances, police and security
vehicles with lights flashing.
And kids. With all the
roads empty, by 7:00 pm thousands of children, teenagers and a few adults
grabbed their bicycles, rollerblades, and scooters and headed for the highways.
About 90% of all new bikes
in Israel are sold in the weeks before Yom Kippur. That’s when I got my first
new bike at the age of ten.
It’s surrealistic. Imagine
you are standing in the middle of the day on the High Five overpass looking
towards Central Expressway and LBJ and there is not one car on the roads. But
hundreds of youngsters on bicycles are having fun peddling between Dallas and
Richardson and beyond.
As for the holiness of the
day, some Israelis fast, or partially fast. But even those who don’t fast tend
to mingle around local synagogues at the end of the day to hear the shofar
blowing from the windows.
As Yom Kippur ended we
built a Sukkah and two days later sat down in it for another big family dinner,
and a week long holiday.
Believe me I’m all for
tradition, and we and our extended family here had a lot of fun. But I can’t
wait to get back to writing and briefing on less festive issues like Mosul,
Iran, US and Israeli politics, etc.
And I will…right “after
the holidays”
