Dylan and Gunfire

So it's now close to 3 early Sunday morning and I have school in 6 hours. Good. I can't seem to sleep because I have a lot on my mind so I'll try to get that shit out (sorry that you have to read it) and give a little synopsis of my Shabbos.

This was the first Shabbat I kept by all the rules. It was also the first time I've heard gunfire. It started right after Shabbat began Friday afternoon and everyone told me it's not an exchange of fire, but rather celebratory fire. Apparently Arabs shoot at weddings and stuff out of celebration. It was a deep boom like fireworks but definitely had a distinctive 'clack' sound to it. In case you don't know, I live on a hill that is surrounded more or less by Arab villages and actually was surrounded by Jordanian territory at one point in Israel's history.

Shabbat here was interesting. We went to an underground Chabad on campus and the Rabbi is nothing like Dovid at all. It really made me miss him. He was more of a putz than anything. He fumbled all over the place and couldn't pronounce anyone's name right and then called this kid up to give a Dvar (summary of the weekly Torah portion) and introduced him as "he says he's my son." I have no fucking clue what that meant. Later, after many l'chaims, this italian girl fell straight out of her chair on the floor. Great end to the night.

I had a wonderful Shabbat lunch and got trashed off of the three bottles of wine I bought for it. Nice. After Shabbat, we went downtown and went to a very Urbana-esque bohemian place with an open mic and a girl playing an out of tune guitar which was frustrating. Then we went to this soup restaurant thing that was supposed to have live Jazz but instead was playing Dylan - which was very nice as well.

However, during the Dylan song "Ballad of a Thin Man" I had to stop and think. The lyrics are:

Ballad Of A Thin Man

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

I really am in a foreign land and I have no clue. I thought I understood a bit but I really don't. Israel and its people have many layers like onions. There's this tough exterior, then a sweet and nice interior, then more layers that people don't see or don't talk about. People ask me what I'm doing here and I tell them and they say "that's nice" or continue the conversation about me, but some cannot fathom why I'd ever come here. Being Jewish or wanting to learn more or wanting to learn what living in Israel is like are not suitable answers. I know everyone in this world has an agenda and what advice or information they give will be based on their own agenda, but in a foreign place where you really don't know what it's like or what's happening, it can be very scary.

And I felt utterly lost. I shouldn't feel this way because I've been to Israel twice before, but every other time I had a guide showing me around and not letting me really sink in and seep up what's around me. Americans who have made Aliyah tell you to do it and make life here out to be just as it seems, but Israelis don't discuss what it's really like. At the Shook (open-air market) right before Shabbat hit everyone was scrambling to buy their food for Shabbat, and it was just like watching ants move through all on their own mission. This gives me the impression that it's just a bunch of independent people living their lives - getting on with it, getting it over with. However, in an ant colony, there is some greater purpose - all these ants are on seperate missions to try to improve the greater good. I just don't get "it" and I "feel like a freak."

It will be something that will have to develop over time. Dylan probably isn't the best music to listen to while I'm lost. He has been a traveller all his life and nobody knows whether or not he found it. He certainly lets me know that I haven't though.