Pardes in Tsfat

This weekend was Pardes' last trip, and it was to be in Tsfat (or Safed, or Sefad, or any one of many ways of spelling it). We met the group at Pardes at 6:30 a.m. for lunch-packing, and we then loaded up the buses, and were on our way north.

Our first stop was Mount Gilboa, where we hiked the Emek Ha'ne'elam (Disappearing Valley) trail. The route took us over rocky terrain and through lots of varied and pretty vegetation, with a view of the farms and towns below us the entire time. The hike ended in a large field of amber waves of grain, a sight completely unexpected, but which the Kansas representatives seemed to love. After a quick stop to relax and to refill our water bottles, we made it to Madressa, where we did a water hike. The trek was through a stream whose depth ranged from ankle to waist-deep. The trees and flowers there were completely different from those seen earlier, and the whole thing seemed reminiscent of North America. This hike ended in a huge natural pool full of Israeli kids screaming and splashing, activities we promptly joined.

Planned poorly, our organizers next took our two buses of soaked, smiling, and smelly hikers to the Tsfat cemetery, where those who aren't Priestly (Elvis or otherwise) toured the graves and heard stories about some of the scholars who had lived in the area.

The next morning began with prayers at a local synagogue (the Beit Midrash of the famous Ari synagogue), and then we moved on to the tomb of Shimon Bar Yochai, a location we had visited just a few weeks ago as a part of our Yam L'Yam hike, and the remains of an ancient synagogue. Needless to say, this visit was much more relaxed and educational than our last. The options for the balance of the day were to hike a route we'd done during Pesach or to spend the day in Tsfat, so we opted for the latter. Our first stop was the Meiri Cheese factory, where a few of us took part in a guided tour. The cheeses are made in a massive ancestral home overlooking the valleys around the city, and the secrets to the recipes, and the home itself, have been passed down within the family for six generations. The recipient of the tradition is determined shortly after birth, when he is given the name of his granfather. One of the keys to the cheeses' unique taste is the natural underground river that passes through the basement of the home, and is the same water that feeds the Ari mikvah (thankfully the mikvah is situated after the home, so that the unique flavors are not the the sweat and soil washed off of the bathers).

After the fascinating and delicious tour we began to meander about the city, looking at artists' booths and wares. For a snack we ate a Yemenite dish we can't even pronounce, let alone write out, but which might best be described as a crepe that went terribly and deliciously off course, with egg, tomato, zatar, and other assorted Middle Eastern items in the center. We also snuck onto a German tour of the Joseph Caro synagogue, which is barely in use but houses treasures from the Cairo geniza we visited in Egypt, in addition to its intrinsic historical value. As Shabbat got close we and some friends were lucky enough to be able to see the Tree of Life shtender presentation that Jon saw with Melton. As with the previous experience, everyone in the room was left in awe of the piece's beauty, intricate design, and meaning.

We began Shabbat at a Kosover Hassid shul. We had hoped that it would be similar to, but more authentic than, the Bretzlaver synagogue we'd tried in Jerusalem, but there were so few attendees that the experience was actually a little sad. However, it was interesting to pray among so many fur hats (for Jon; Rina was behind a wood-and-cloth cage), and the dancing was fun.

Saturday we attended services at the Ari synagogue. The Kabbalistic art and architecture was fascinating and pretty, though the services were standard. In the shul's center is a bimah a dozen steps off the ground, making Torah reading central physically as well as theologically and temporally. The bimah was covered in whimsical colors and wood carvings, each with a deeper meaning we doubt we could fathom if we tried. One of the things we did note, however, was that the charity boxes are built into the building's supporting columns, promoting the message that tzedaka is vital in supporting our world. After lunch we took a guided tour of the city, stopping off at the Abouab shul, which houses some of the oldest synagogue architecture and the oldest Torah still in use in the world. We learned all about the city's interesting and long history, much of it centered around the study and practice of Kabbalah, and only made it back to the hotel in time for dinner, havdalah, and departure.