How Do You Say "Smokey the Bear" b'Ivrit?

May 11, 2009

You shall count for yourselves -- from the day after the Shabbat, from the day when you bring the Omer of the waving -- seven Shabbats, they shall be complete. Until the day after the seventh sabbath you shall count, fifty days... -Leviticus 23:15-16

The counting of the omer, a unit of measure of barley, reminds us of the link between Pesach, commemorating the Exodus from Egypt, and Shavu’ot, celebrating the receipt of the Torah at Sinai. Traditionally, it is a time of partial mourning due to a plague during the time of Rabbi Akiva, so weddings, parties with dancing, and haircuts are not permitted. Lag b’Omer is a holiday celebrated after 33 days of counting. According to some it is a holiday because the plague lifted on that day and for others it commemorates the death of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai (2nd century CE), the author of the Zohar, the basic text of kabbalah. The prohibitions are lifted, so, for example, Linda and I were married on Lag b’Omer in 5743.

This is all provided as background for what seems to be national pollute the air day in Israel. Beginning on the last day of Passover, boys and increasingly girls, start scavenging for wood to build bonfires on Lag b’Omer. Woe be it to building contractors who do not secure their sites. Why bonfires? Some say these fires reflect the light brought by Rabbi Yochai, others suggest that the fires signal victories by Bar Kochba during the revolt against Rome in 135 CE.

We joined Edna to pick up 9 year old Eli at baseball practice (he’s a Yankees fan!) and then headed to a beach in southern Jaffe where his school was gathering for a potluck picnic and bonfires. When we arrived at about 7 there were several dozen people gathered. There was a large folding table with humus, salads, breads, and even some spaghetti that kids seem to like with ketchup, as well a other scattered mats for picnicking.

Several groups of 4 or 5 were assembling their kindling and larger pieces. Other kids and adults were at the top of the cliff overlooking the beach, throwing scraps of all sizes and compositions down to the beach below. By the time the magnificent, bright reddish orange sun settled into the Mediterranean, several hundred people had arrived. At least 20 bonfires, some the size of garbage cans and others the size of phone booths (what has replaced phone booths as a measure?) were in various stages of construction, spread out over an area the size of half a football field. It’s not as if there was a protected area where the fires were set, to separate young kids from the flames, sparks, and smoke. Instead, it was as if there were dozens of groups gathered for a barbecue and they had each set up their own grill fired up. A few, then 10, then all the fires were blazing. It is curious that this school group needed so many fires. Fortunately, there was a rather strong wind from the north so that one could escape the intense smoke, but if caught downwind it was an effort to breath. I was disappointed that there was neither singing nor dancing, except for one group of 10 year old girls who sang for a few minutes. While the lighting of many fires is a striking, if not moving, ritual, the only evidence of solidarity was the lighting of fires!