Yom Kippur is over, and I am so thankful for how easily it went. Shuie came home from shul mid-morning and I was able to enjoy a desperately needed, four-hour nap to keep my energy reserves in check. During Yonah’s (and Shuie’s) afternoon naptime, I was able to take a few minutes to sit on one of our lounges in the backyard and take in the view. The air was so sweet and filled with a distinctive Yom Kippur energy. Naturally, my thoughts wandered from old journeys to new beginnings, and then beyond, wondering where this new year will take us. As the day came to a close, I remembered the advice that one of my teachers, Rebbetzin Karlinsky, offered me: “On Yom Kippur, the gates are open. Take whatever is in your heart and put it through”. So I did. I took everything in my heart –the hope, the pain, the questions, the yearning– and talked it out before Gd. While it didn’t follow the standard holiday procedure, it was a Yom Kippur experience that was all mine.

So we’ve just finished our break fast and Shuie and Shloimie are outside building our Sukkah, a hut made of organic material in honor of the upcoming holiday of Sukkot, the festival of Tabernacles. For Sukkot, Jews are commanded to build a simple house and eat and sleep in it for 7 days, relinquishing material comforts as a reminder that everything is reliant upon Hashem. Shuie and I are both very excited about Sukkot because we have a huge terrace to build on and plenty of room for guests. We have guests coming for almost every night of the holiday, which will mean a lot of cooking, but also a lot of company. Shuie, of course, will be sleeping out there every night and is trying to convince me to let Yonah stay out there with him. I told him that if he’s willing to invest in a mosquito net, I’ll consider it. Maybe.

After the intense “Teshuva” (repentance) period of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, Sukkot is a happy holiday with which to end the high holiday season. When we were at the Masons’, we heard a beautiful allegory that gave me a great perspective on the holidays. Yom Kippur is considered the “wedding” between the Jews and Gd, when we recommit to our covenant to each other. During Neilah, the final prayers of the night, the gates are open, and when they close, we are brought inside the Yichud room (a private room in which the bride and groom are alone together for the first time after the ceremony) with Gd. Our break fast is the seudas mitzvah (a festive meal shared by bride and groom), and then, with the arrival of Sukkot, the bride and groom (the Jews and Gd) build their new home (the Sukkah) together. I found that to be such a powerful image, and one I hope to hold with me as I celebrate my first Sukkot in Jerusalem.

One of the things that continues to surprise me about Jerusalem (even though it probably shouldn’t), is how much Jewish culture permeates everything. For example, the buses (which, in honor of the high holidays, flash “Shana Tova” [Happy New Year], instead of their destinations) stop running about an hour before Shabbat and don’t start running again until Shabbat is over. Every morning, I see women reciting tehillim (psalms) at the bus stop the way I see commuter women in America playing with their Blackberries. Every other store sells some kind of Judaica, be it holy books or hair coverings or menorahs, and even the billboards use Jewish holidays to advertise: “Treat yourself with a new car for the new year!”. Cabbies and storeowners alike, religious or not, have been wishing me a “Shana Tova” and “G’mar Chatima Tova” (A Good Inscription in the book of life) whenever I do business with them. No wonder people find it so much easier to be Jewish here. This is a living, breathing Jewish world with everything you could want at your fingertips.

I was talking to my dear friend Alex in L.A. and she asked me what I miss about the States. My first response was, “I’m in Israel! How could I possibly miss the States?!?”, but after a minute or two I realized that I actually do miss the good old U.S. of A. Sure, there are parts of it I am happy to do without (American television and celebrity culture, for one), but indeed, I do get a wave of nostalgia when I think about the following:

1. Autumn in New England
2. GIANT grocery stores
3. Trader Joe’s (I have to go to Nachlaot to get tofu)
4. Driving on I-95 (when there’s no traffic)
5. Cape Cod
6. Babies R’ Us
7. Appliances that don’t have mood swings
8. The view of the Hudson from my father’s apartment
9. Heavy Bahston accents
10. My sister

I just heard an “Oh!” from outside, followed by the sound of wood collapsing to the ground. Looks like I need to go do some Sukkah-damage control.