Usually the way I blog is not entirely spontaneous. Usually I write down things I think are funny, or interesting, or both (usually both) and then I turn them into my story. Like the fact that the lats time I drove up to Kfar Adumim I saw camels...and baby camels (!) just sort of wandering around in the direction of the Bedouins. Or how I broke into the Mechina up the way yesteday in order to get at their grand piano in the mess hall. (No one was there, and there was a little hole in the fence...nuuu) Or how we had an episode of Midrasha-wide Rikudei Am (National Dance) yesterday that was, simply put, hilarious. But this blog entry is - if you will - a camel of a different color.
We had Mishmar last night (that's when you stay up all night reviewing what you learned last week, preparing for sabbath and having a good time in the mess hall as well as in the Beit Midrash. And I had a great time. But then it was 2:30am. And I remembered how absolutely dead I was after staying up all night for Mishmar last week, and I went to bed. Smart girl, Elisheva. Or so I thought.
I went to bed around three, a reasonable hour. I awoke to the light streaming into my room at 9:45. I got up. Closed the shutters. And went back to bed. But then I dreamed.
I dreamed that I had to decided to go to Chevron again. To talk to people and to visit the Ma'arat HaMachpelah (the cave where the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and the matriarchs Sarah, Rachel, Rebecca and Leah are all buried. Some say Adam and Eve. Some say Esau. And some even say Joseph). To see, again, what there was to see. It would be my - I decided in my dream - fifth and final trip to Chevron. So I got on the bullet proof 160 bus headed down south. When I got off the bus I walked towards the Cave, but Chevron had changed. There were Chassidim everywhere. All with their respective hats, and all smiling, singing, drinking. It was like one big Tisch. I didn't know why, but I didn't care -- people were happy! As I walked towards the steps that lead up to the Herodian structure surrounding the Cave of the Patriarchs I saw some older women ducking down, laying flat like there had been a bomb blast or a shooting. I did the same, but thought nothing of it since I'd done it before in this area. Shootings, or at least the threat of shootings, are a constant threat in Chevron and its environs. But then as I stepped upon the last step leading up to the Cave, an man dressed as a Chassid threw a rock -- but not just an ordinary rock. It was a bomb that looked like a rock. And it exploded in midair. I saw everything happening in slow motion, like they do it in the movies, but I wasn't in slow motion. I ran. I ran like one of those urban runners who jump over cars and garbage bins and scale drainpipes. I found myself on the other side of the street, safe and feeling cowardly. I ducked into a restaurant where some Chassidim were having - still - a party. There was challah, sweet wine, crumbs in people's beards, the works. But then in walked that same fake Chassid with his explosive rock. And as I ran out I yelled at the maitre d' "stop that man!" But it was too late - he had already planted his rock of death. When I ran to the next restaurant I found only legs and arms in the bathroom (no blood though...?) and so I ran and hid underneath a car. And when the costumed terrorist came to wreak his destruction in the last restaurant he found me with his eyes and gave me a look that couldn't have said anything but "I'm coming for you".
That, more or less, was my dream.
It feels like a very personal thing to put on a blog - more so than clever stories about playing basketball barefoot, or washing floors barefoot, or running barefoot (thank you Mordechai). But I think it says a lot about my unconscious experience here (thank you Freud). So if there's a Yosef out there (not a Freud, please) who has a knack for dream interpretation, I'd love to hear what you have to say.
As for a song -- I give you a Shabbat treat. My Shabbat this week is going to be full of Israeli songs I don't know but will learn. But my Shabbat will also be full of Shabbatot past - which includes the music of Shabbatot. So I give you Lecha Dodi. Not the one I originally wanted to post, but since the version of that one of youtube is - simply put - horrid, I decided to go with the one which is worth your listen.