December 8, 2023

Joseph Zitt's [as if in dreams] 2023-12-07

Hi. I'm Joseph Zitt. I moved from the US to Israel in 2017. This is my newsletter about more-or-less daily life in my city in the shadow of war. You can select these links to subscribe or unsubscribe. There are more links at the bottom. Here we go...

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Just after sundown, we gather at the front of the office. We open the doors, so people down the hall can see us. It's the first night of Hanukkah. Time to light the candles.

We do it a little differently here. In the States, we lit the shamash candle (effectively Candle Zero), used it to light the others (one tonight, then counting up to the full eight, night by night), then set it in its place, usually at the center or slightly higher than the rest of the candles. Here, we light another candle, light the shamash and the rest with it, then blow that one out. I don't know what you'd call it. Maybe Candle-Square-Root-of-Negative-One.

We're using a different type of cool-looking candles tonight. They look sort of like the usual wax candles. They're tapered to fit in the same menorahs, but are made out of gelled olive oil. I'll have to get some. As it is, I have a few candles left from last year, but will run out before the end of the holiday.

A different one of us lights the office candles each night (unless, toward the end, everyone already has lit them once). Tonight, it's our head of Sales. Someone opens the prayer book to the right page. He doesn't look at it. Like many of us, after all these years, he has memorized the text.

After each blessing, one of us conducts the others in a sort of choral "A-A-men." On this first night, there's an added prayer, with thanks for keeping us alive and well for this season. This year, in the midst of war, it rings a bit differently, as it does when I sing it on other holidays for the people in the continuous care wing of the House of a Hundred Grandmothers.

The family here sends photos of their candle lightings via WhatsApp. It will take a few hours for sunset to catch up with the Americans.

Late in the day, I get a notification from the local news site.¹ Two more of our soldiers have been killed across the border. One was from our town. His father is on the War Cabinet and used to be the chief of staff of the army. He was visiting his son's division when the son was killed. The funeral will be tomorrow in the cemetery next door to my office. Large crowds will probably line the streets again and attend the ceremony.

An SMS from McDonald's this afternoon advertises Hanukah gift cards.². It does mention Christmas cards right after them. But the internationalization is still a bit iffy: We don't really do Chanukah presents here. The donuts they have aren't the jelly-filled type that are in season. And some may be mystified by the "Ho Ho Ho!" at the start of the message.

Still, it's better than the SMS a few months back that suggested the McDonald's cards as "Yom Kippur gifts."

The local news site lists a lot of events scheduled throughout Hannuka. On several nights, candles will be lit at City Hall just after dark. There will be donuts.³

The logo for the city's events shows only half a menorah.⁴ The news site says that it shows that "our hearts are broken as long as all the abductees from captivity in Gaza have not returned to us." One person from our city is still a hostage.

Tomorrow, according to Google Translate, there will be a bike ride "to sympathize with the families of the abducted and missing." The word "sympathize" seems off. Checking the word on its own, Google translates l'hizdahot (assuming that I have guessed the vowels correctly) as "to identify." Reaching back to my Occupy PR days, I might have said "to support" or "in solidarity with," but that probably wouldn't translate back into Hebrew appropriately.

During the week, there will be theatre and orchestral performances, workshops, balloon shows, nights at the art museum, and children's movies with associated events at the Cinematheque. On Tuesday, for the LGBTQ+ community, the youth center will host a candle lighting with drag queen Ziona Patriot.

At the far end of the spectrum of ideology, safety, and whether actions are a good idea, a gang of right-wing zealots plan to march tonight through the capital, up the Temple Mount, and to the gates of Al Aqsa.⁵ Uh-oh. The bit in Psalm 122 where they say "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem" has rarely been more apt. Especially in this instance, though, people may be interpreting it in very different ways.⁶

Later, I see that the police have canceled the march.⁷ At the starting point, the extremists were chanting threats and holding signs that violated their permit.⁸

Most of us leave work a bit early. As I stand up, my belt breaks. I'm glad I'm also wearing suspenders. Redundancy is good. And redundancy is good.

We didn't have donuts at the candle lighting tonight, though we did have good chocolates. After work, I go to the best donut shop in town, at the Heart of the City. They make the donuts right there at the front of the shop, frying the balls of dough in two vats, then pumping various fillings into them, at the customers' request. I wait in line for about half an hour.

Most of the customers are getting twenty or thirty assorted donuts. I get one, filled with dulce de leche. The guy behind me is surprised. "Only one? Wow. Much respect. I could never control myself to only get one, especially after waiting this long." I never bring sweets home. I would devour them too quickly. I only get ice cream or donuts at outside eateries, and eat them there.

The city has set up hanging lights along the main street. Various signs, though fewer than one might imagine, wish people a happy Chanukkah.

At least those of us here, writing in Hebrew, get to avoid the seasonal fights over how the holiday is spelled. Happy Xanooqqa, everyone.

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Here’s an archive of past newsletters.

You can find me via email, Bluesky, Mastodon, Facebook, and, just out of inertia, X/Twitter. There's more about me and my books, music, and films at josephzitt.com.

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L'hitraot.