Instructions for Reading the Instructions

Known fact: all food packages in Israel must have at least one major spelling error. This one is my favorite, by far.

A package of Osem Couscous. Inconspicuous.


Notice the directions on back.


Now look a little closer, three lines up.


"Cover the bowel and wait 15 minutes."

Are you chicken?

Care of Wikipedia:

Hebrew: כפרות‎, "atonements") is a traditional Jewish religious ritual that takes place around the time of the High Holidays. Classically, it is performed by grasping a live chicken by the shoulder blades and moving around one's head three times, symbolically transferring one's sins to the chicken. The chicken is then slaughtered and donated to the poor, preferably eaten at the pre-Yom Kippur feast. Preferably, a man should use a rooster, and a woman should use a hen for the ritual.

In modern times, Kapparos is performed in the traditional form mostly in Haredi communities. Members of other communities tend to perform this ritual with charity money substituted for the chicken, swung over one's head in similar fashion.

The ritual is preceded by the reading of Psalms 107:17-20 and Job 33:23-24.

As the chicken (or money) is swung about the head, the following paragraph is traditionally recited three times:

This is my exchange, this is my substitute, this is my atonement. (This rooster (hen) will go to its death / This money will go to charity), while I will enter and proceed to a good long life and to peace.

Yes, I had a chicken swung over my head. After many years of hearing my parents say "Shlug a-kaapporis, Poi Poi Poi (that's "spit")!", I finally understood what my yiddishe-mama was talking about. Here are pics from the adventure in Mea Shearim. And yes, chicken shit did end up on my head. All in good fun.


Haredi guy going at it.


The look on the kid's face is classic.


Mother Clucker.


Here we go! Round one!


Round two!


Round three and a kiss for the clucker.

Happiness is a three-letter word

Cross posted at Israelity.

The kismet of an American childhood is the Happy Meal. The meal includes the requisite hamburger, 15 french-fries, Hamburgler shortbread cookie, and a toy. This toy, whether it be a mini Beanie Baby or diecast General Lee, is like nirvana. For years my father refused to let me get rid of any of the toys. "They will pay your way through graduate school someday!" he would say as I moved them aside to make room for a new 'N Sync CD. After the toys have been opened and played with, I would doubt that they would even be able to pay for a semester at the local community college.

Every once in awhile, I will purchase an Israeli Happy Meal just for the toy. Unlike the boring chatchkes (or knick-knacks) you will get in an American Happy Meal. these are TOYS. For example, last week's toy was a mini e-Dog. The palm size dog lights up in for colors and plays a hip-hop tune from behind its ears. The Israeli Happy Meal also comes with apple-goo. I call it "goo" because it's like apple juice but it has a gelatinous, "Plan-9" look to it. I'm not sure if the United States McDonald's has chosen a different "Happy Meal Toy Provider" but they sure could take a clue from the Israeli Happy Meal. Now all Israel needs to do is replace that apple-goo with something else...an iPhone, perhaps.

The B-boy story you've all been waiting for!!!!!

Cross posted at Israelity.

"Thursday night, date night in Tel Aviv. One of these Thursday night trips to Dizengoff introduced me to another awesome aspect of Israeli culture: the B-boy. For those who are (or were) as unknowledgeable as me about the subject, a B-boy, or B-girl, is a guy or gal who break-dances. So “breakdancers in Israel”, you say?

In the corner of the mall, close to Shape and across from the movie theater, seven B-Boys were dancing. Surrounded by an older and less limber crowd, the boys weren’t just dancing; they were flipping, spinning, “coffee-grinding” (that’s a breakdance move, if you didn’t know). Luckily, I had my trusty Cool Pix with me to record this awesome event.



I spoke with Elad Slim (he is pretty slim) about the group which started back in 1999 and has gone through numerous reincarnations over the years. Elad himself began dancing after he had finished his three years of army service. When asked about what reactions he and the other B-Boys get, Elad laughs: “You always have people walking around the mall who stop to watch. Some of them cheer. Some people ignore us, but many ask questions, or want to learn a certain move in 30 seconds. The reaction is very positive.” Elad offered me a lesson for being so interested in their group. Unfortunately, close to 17 years of tap, jazz, and ballet, would not have prepared me for it, so I kindly declined.

Although Elad has no professional aspirations in breakdancing, he believes that break-dancing in Israel is on the rise and will soon match to the scenes that exist in both the United States and Europe."

Express Mail to G-d

Living in Jerusalem, I can say that going to the Kotel (or the Western Wall) is pretty convenient. When I am in the Old City, I always try and make a stop at the Wall. People go there to pray everyday. Many people can only visit once in their lifetime. If I can make it once a month, I'm perfectly content and grateful for the opportunity.

Every visit to the Wall is unique. Sometimes I see people that I saw the month before. Every so often I see a woman weeping. Perhaps someone is ill, a child, sibling, best friend. Or I see tourists from all over placing the obligatory note into the universal fax machine programmed to reach G-d and G-d only.

Even if I don't have something to pray for, I always make an effort. Standing in the sweltering heat with my head leaning on the smooth stones, I always manage to pray for someone or something. Why waste the moment?

The part that I always find difficult though is leaving the Wall. Women are lined up in a row at the exit with plastic cups in hand, all pleaing for tzedakah (which means "charity"). Occasionally, they will have cut red strings, sometimes with a charm on it. These strings are a "souvenir" of sorts. You gave them a couple shekels. They can buy themselves something to eat. They give you a string and hopefully by looking at that string, you will be reminded of the mitzvah (good deed) you have performed, and will do it again to someone somewhere else. A Jewish pay-it-forward, if you will.

I remember asking a friend once, "If you only have so much change in your wallet, who do you give your money to?" She couldn't answer me.

Today, I tried to split up my money among the 5 or so women lined up. The last one I gave to, gave me more than just a red string. She gave me a prayer. And that was more than I could have ever asked for.

Video and the Blogging Star

So other than taking pictures, doing homework, and splitting my pants in mountainous areas, I do video! Under my links, right below my picture page link, is a new link to my YouTube page where you can see my most recent video. Here is a quick preview:



Cool, huh? Breakdancers in Tel Aviv. Or "B-Boys" I should say: in the BAYIT (house)! These guys are my first story for my soon-to-begin internship, which I will gladly discuss later on.

Until then, "Shayna-fo-shizzle" is signing out.

Burn, Baby, Burn

Upon returning from Tel Aviv this weekend with a massive sunburn on my back, I go next door for some assistance.

Knock on Gaby and Dafi, the Argentinians door.
Gaby: Shayyyyyna! Como estas?
Shayna: Bien! Can I borrow your girlfriend for a second?
Gaby: Of course!
Dafi lovingly applies aloe to my scorched back.
Gaby: Well, put it this way. At least you don't have a Vitamin D deficiency.

Gotta love those Argentinians.