Breslev and Lubavitch connection

This video has been taken when i was in Tzfat on a Friday.
Before Shabbos, in the main street, the Breslev boys and men were in the main street with their musical truck to enjoy the day of rest.
Dance, joy and big peyos were at the rendez-vous. And i was on their way.
Two frum girls asked for taking a photo of her in front of the truck.
Knowing that Israeli work a lot 6 days on 7, Shabbos is expecting with impatience and joy.
My feminist friends said: "No women indeed?" :-)
Maybe one day, with the Breslev community and all the BT…
Good Shabbos everyone.

Let me be a Jew!

I am in a deadlock, an impasse…

I am aware of not having done the things as they were supposed to be done.
To be autodidact and independent, without following the rules that i followed without belonging to a community is not accepted so far.
To be rejected is very hard for me. And also how i have been rejected by a French woman.

Yerushalayim, January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I sent an email to her to have more information about their conversion program.
She asked me in return for telling her my personal and professional life.
That's not simple to summarize my life but i did it.
In France a conversion takes two years and half, in Israel, 7 months. If they feel that you are not ready, it can take more time.
The best option for me, even if i don't see like an option but like a desire of being confirmed in what i feel, is to do it in Israel where i want to live.
That woman told me that, because i won't have the papers proving my Jewishness, i can't follow her conversion program if i can prove that i belong to a Jewish Orthodox community since two years.
I can't prove it.
That means that the conversion will be longer than a French conversion if i follow her rules.

Above a black hat, Yerushalayim, January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

 Honestly, what i don't understand, is that if you want to be a Jew, that's not for the fun of it. I mean that's an important decision, not a funny decision. That's very serious! I am not 20 years old, so it's a matured decision.

To say to me: "Contact me in two years. Best wishes.", is totally unfair. Is her role not to meet me first, to have a conversation in person before judging me?

I was too mad at her reply that i shut down my laptop. 

Leaving the Kotel, Yerushalayim, January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

The Midrash Vayikra says: "A candidate who would like to get converted sincerely, we will tend the hand to come under the Divine Presence."
We are "newborn babies" according to the Talmud (Yevamot 22a), and "all the mistakes are forgiven."
I didn't reply to her yet, and i don't know if i will do it.

Walking very close, Mea She'arim, Yerushalayim, January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I don't know if she is aware of being Jewish in an anti-Jewish climate in Europe is not a light decision.
I decided it a long time ago, and i am working on it slowly indeed, to respect all the 613 mitzvots.
When i read them, i can point many Hasidim or Jews who don't even respect half of them. But that's not my business anymore.

All the Jews that i have met told me that it's very difficult. Who doesn't have ups and downs in his life?
I handle them as anyone, and i don't give up easily with what i want deeply.

So, let me be a Jew at 100%!

Smoking before or after davening, Bnei Brak outside of a very old shul,
January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I decided so far not to reply to her email, because my emotions become too high when i read it.
I contacted the rabbi who takes care of the French conversion.
I don't want to do it in France. That's too complicated with my mom. I tried to impose little things.
I am waiting for his reply.

When i was in Israel, my mom bumped into one of her neighbors that i dislike. She is an Arab but she is ashamed of being an Arab from a North African country (i.e. Algeria, Morrocco and Tunisia), she says she is Egyptian. That's not the first time that i meet people like her. I let them think that i am stupid.
Anyway. That woman asked my mom where i was. Guess what? My mom, terrified to say that i have Jewish blood, replied that i was in Jordan. I was mad at her. Why Jordan? If she wanted to lie, i would have preferred that she says that i was Italy.

Aerial peyots catching messages from heaven, Mea Shea'rim, Yerushalayim, January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

That anti-Jew climate doesn't help my mom. Shamed and scared of being in love with the Jews, and having a daughter with a Jew, that's not a life. And not a life for me certainly.
There is an Arab family at the same floor than us. I recently met the mother. I didn't feel her. So, let's forget the mezuzah at the door.
Before them, there was a nice family: she was muslim, and her husband an observant Jew. He came at each Pesach to give us all the open packs. They got divorced because he cheated on her. She is with a Catholic now. :-)

I understand that we have to show our devoted motivation, but can we be judged after an interview?

I am still in touch with the Breslev family, but i didn't tell them that i will get converted. Because, despite the agreement of the Torah, i already feel a Jew and thus a BT.
She told me that her husband is helping people to get converted. He is too handsome to be my rabbi. :-)
I feel guilt to have lied administratively, not spiritually.
I am scared of her reaction if i tell her now.

Abstract black hat, Jaffa Gate, Yerushalayim, January 2015, ©emmarubinstein

To take this rejection is that the program offered by that woman is in French, and i want to follow one in English.
I think that the best for me is to find a job in Yerushalayim or Haifa, where i can use my French and English, when i keep on learning Hebrew. Then, i hope to find a nice Orthodox community with passionate teachers like my Torah teacher. And start a conversion with an ugly married rabbi with 20 children. :-)

Yaffo, Tel Aviv

My last days in Israel were not the best ones.
Nothing dramatic happened to me.
No desire to get back to Paris, i checked my flight the early morning before leaving. They have changed the time. That's bohemian life.

graffiti in Yaffo, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Ten years ago, i spent time in Tel-Aviv: a shabbat, a quick visit of Yaffo at night…
Nothing that i have actually kept in memory.

Kids of Yaffo, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Hasidic behind a dirty window of a café in Yaffo, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I enjoy living in big cities because of the culture.
But one thing has changed: i need religious culture more than before.
If i don't feel a certain devotion, i feel like living my faith dangerously.
The majority of families where i rented a room doesn't keep kosher and shabbos.
For the kosher, i was fine, eating outside, too lazy to cook.
I like observing people, like the Parisians do it at the terraces. That's our favorite sport.
Without terraces, Parisians won't be the same.
I socialized in cafés like Israeli.

Hasidic who came to enjoy the view, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Shul in Yaffo, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein 

Shul in Yaffo, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I was living in the main street of Yaffo. Across the street, there was a mosque. The muezzin stops at 6:30 pm fortunately.
In Turkey, in Cappadoccia, the muezzin calls for prayers at night too.
The first nights, you think that you are in a horror movie to be waken up in the middle of the night.
The sound is very loud. I too was impressed at the kotel when i heard the muezzin, when the Jews pray in silence.
In Turkey, the muezzin often has a problem of microphone. That was funny sometimes.

Tel Aviv market before Shabbos, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein 

Tel Aviv market before Shabbos, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Breslev showing his belly, Tel Aviv market before Shabbos, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Tel Aviv market before Shabbos, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

"Don't worry, i am Jewish", February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Stealing pistachios at the market before Shabbos , February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Yaffo is a population mixed with Jews and Arabs. That's a safe neighborhood, i was lost in small streets many times, and i never felt some tensions. Same than in Haifa where Arabs are well integrated.
One middle-aged man talked to me in the street. I thought that i knew him. Shabbos saved me from his hands. I didn't feel to go for a drink with him. He seemed weird. I took his phone number not to hurt him.
On Shabbos, i walked from Yaffo to Tel Aviv. I spent time at the beach, enjoying the sun. Then, walked again and i found by chance the district of old houses. That was nice, but nothing that appealed me devoutly.

Arch of LOVE: if you want to get married go beneath it, same if you want to get divorced,
February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I spent the last day with my friend from the kibbutz. She showed me another district with old German houses. Pleasant place. I enjoy her company a lot. She is like a mother for me.

At the beach, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Tel Aviv is a big city and there is something impersonal like you can feel in big city.
You are drowned in the crowd.
I have been enough drowned in the mass in New York.
Paris is only different because i have most of my friends here.

I have a deep attachment to Hasidic culture indisputably.
The best for me will be to find my place in Yerushalayim, and to spend some Shabbos in Tzfat with that Breslev family or my new Breslev friends.

Horse in Yaffo, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

When i arrived in the plane, there was man who acted like a guide in Tzfat.
I was surprised to see him, because he told me to get back to Paris later in the month.
He was totally different from what i have seen from him in Tzfat.
First, i didn't understand what was going on.
His face was faded, he lost his smile.
I think that something serious happened to him, and he was not able to talk to anyone.
I felt so sorry for him, and i preferred not to bother him and let him in his bubble.

I didn't feel weird to get back to Paris, because i often moved. I killed a pair of shoes, my suitcase…
That's a bohemian life…

Two black men and one shadow along the beach, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Ramat Gan, Bnei Brak - Tel Aviv

Those are my last days before coming back to Paris next Monday.
I feel better, and all the last bad vibes from NY are gone forever.
I feel that a new life will come, and i will have to work hard to get it.

Jews love money, we heard that all the time? Probably or not, Israeli enjoy socializing.
They never asked me for money or what can i do for them, they simply enjoy helping you.
And they enjoy life before money, that's a statement so far.
I enjoy doing things alone, but i never felt alone in Israel like in NY.

On my way to Ramat Gan, bus, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

A cutie, Ramat Gan, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Windy Hasidic, Ramat Gan, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Father and son in the park, Ramat Gan, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I chose to stay in a place in Ramat Gan to visit Bnei Brak, the Williamsburg of Tel Aviv.
The first afternoon, i have been for a walk around the room i rented to be familiar with the geography of the streets.
Bnei Brak is very close and i saw some peyos men and Lubaba in a park.

I googled the name and found an article about the main street of Bnei Brak which is, what they said,  their Champs-Elysées.
The weather was terrible yesterday: a tempest of sand and rain. But nothing will stop me.

Beautiful shul, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Entry of the shul, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Hobbit entry of the shul, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Motorcycle, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

My host is a secular Jew, he doesn't keep kosher and Shabbat.
He is courteous, and a gentle person.
I told him why i chose his place. He said: "If Israel was populated only by Hasidim, i wouldn't live here." I was not here to argue, and i had no reasons to do it. The importance is to be happy with his/her choices of life.

The husband of my friend in Haifa is a BT. He became a BT at 13 years old.
He said something like: "Hasidim or not, secular Jews or not, whatever how you live your Judaism, you are a Jew." Usually the BTs are not so open-minded.
I always felt that to be a Jew is beyond the religion. It started by the religion indeed, but after those thousand of years, that's a culture and a state of mind.
My friend from high school told me a terrible story which happened to her 20 years ago.
She was pregnant and worked in an office of real estate. Her coworker who was besides her, was a sort of redneck, but she had a very good connection with him, till… that day, when she told him that she was Jewish. The man never talked to her anymore. They all have been awful with her. She quit because they harassed her.
That man forgot that she was a human being, she only was a Jew. For him, a Jew is evil.

Cutie Hasidim crossing the street rascal-ly, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Trying to light his cigarette, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

I walked along the long avenue in Bnei Brak. I tried to find a café. I haven't seen one. I talked with a woman in a jewels store about the different sects which were there. She was adorable.
I went back for a pedicure to relax my feet which work hard since three weeks.

Nanach, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Holding the hood of his son against the wind, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Wind, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Amazing peyots, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Grunge style for a recycled plastic bag, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

And then, a sad story.
Outside, there was a man standing up with his umbrella, a Hasidic. A woman besides us fell on the floor.
The man looked at me, and i smiled at him. He was totally surprised. Finally, he smiled back.
And it was like his world has another meaning suddenly.
He followed me. The street had two levels. Each time i stopped, he stopped and looked at me.
Then, the two levels came to one level, and he walked very close to me.
I stopped, and started to talk to him in English. He was only speaking Hebrew.
At that moment, i felt so sorry and mad at myself, not to understand him and Hebrew.
I felt him so desperate that he has no fear to talk to me in the street where anyone could see us.
He said something like: "Many". Later, i understood that he might talk about "money".
I was not naive and knew what were his intentions. He was gentle in his manners. I thought at a moment, of asking him to follow me to my place and ask my host for a translation.
That man needed to talk. Maybe he needed to have sex and thought that i will accept the money. None of them. I don't blame him to see me as a sexual object.
I left him. He didn't move from where he was standing when we talked.
I felt so bad not to be useful. He was probably less than thirty years old.
That's terrible when people decided your life for you. You are in a spiral, and you can't leave because you have too many things to loose.

This morning before leaving for Yaffo, i had my breakfast outside. I took the same road where i met that man. He knew that he won't be there, but i felt sad once again.
What can we do to help people like him?

The lost soul, the man, Bnei Brak, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Tzfat

I took the bus to go there. I didn't check what I have to visit once there.

On my way to Tzfat (Safed). In the background, the lake of Tiberias,
February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Hasidic, modern city of Tzfat in the background, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Tzfat is one of the holiest cities in Israel.
When I arrived, I wanted to cry because of the disappointment of the architecture of the city. The modern Tzfat close to the Central Bus Station was disappointing.

I chose to rent a room in a religious family. The host wore a wig on her photo. They eat kosher and they keep Shabbos.

A way of walking to feel the holiness, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein 

Breslev style, thick peyos, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Cutie Breslev boy, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

The barber of peyots, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Electrical peyots, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

She came to me in the street and helped me with my suitcase which broke and all my stuffs rolled in the stairs. Shame on me!
She was fine with the incident. ;-)
They live in a house of two floors. I was not living with them, but on the second floor. Nobody else was renting the other room, I had the apartment for myself.
In the kitchen, there was one sink, and the cutlery was dirty as hell. I couldn't touch them. No dish wash liquid left.
Usually I don't cook, I am too lazy for that after long days wandering in the cities.
But Tzfat is different and walking in the streets that first afternoon bored me.
I was in a bad mood probably.

Old city, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

 Before the sundown, I saw a street sign indicating that the Sephardi and Ashkenazi quarter were that way, thus I planned to visit them the day after, on Friday.

No tourist information, so I took photos of google map to find my way.

My room has a big terrace that you can see the lake of Tiberias.
I saw many religious persons and I was happy to meet them in numbers like in Yerushalayim.

But i couldn't feel the holiness so far.
I didn't meet yet the husband of my host and I was intrigued how he looked like. :-)

She is not neat. She smelled bad. Her teeth are broken or punk. I wondered what happened to this woman, and a little more after she showed me photos of her young. :-(

Davening in the old city with his tefilin, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Very old fig tree, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

On Friday, I was walking in the streets to enjoy the best I can before Shabbos.
And once again I met very nice people.
I came inside a store, two men were there. They offered me a coffee, and I replied in English that coffee is not my cup of tea.
It happened that one of them was French: born in Tzfat but he moved a long time ago in Paris, in the area where I used to live, in the Lubaba area. I think that he was in his fifties.
He told me to go to the Ari's shuls, and finally he acted as a personal touristic guide. I followed him in the tiny streets. He showed me many things, and gave me a history class about Tzfat. And a holy lemon.

Old shul, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Old shul, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

We went back to the store of his friend. I bought a necklace, and he gave me two gifts: one magnet, and one drawing of a candle, because my face was a light for him. ;-)
They said that Tzfat is a safe city, everyone knows everyone.
I said goodbye and ended my stroll in the old city before getting back to the main street. 
My host called me to know at what time I will be back to warm the water up for the last shower before Shabbos. She was very caring.

The Beatles back from the mikveh before Shabbos, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein 

Meshuga dance with the Breslev boys, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Meshuga dance with the Breslev boys, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

There were a group of Breslev boys, with a truck,  who were dancing. Then Chabad boys came to join them to dance all together.
The battery of my phone was almost down, and I tried to find where I could charge it.
I was back to a cafe where i had a tea in the morning, nobody was there. They started to close probably.
At the opposite of me, there was a young man, a Lubaba, I thought, who was starring at me. I thought that he was looking at me, spying if I had the bad idea to steal something in the cafe.
I crossed the street and asked him if there was a plug that i can use.
He asked the guys who were there, eating pizza.
I left, he followed me, saying hi. Hi back!
Then he went back to me asking me where I was from, and if I wanted to spend Shabbos with him. ;-)
Tzfat is safe, I thought that it might be a habits to ask people in the streets for spending Shabbos with them.
I declined the offer, my host invited me for a traditional Shabbos in her place.
But I offered him to meet after the Havdalah for a drink.
He texted me, and asked me again for sharing his Shabbos.

And a weird question: was I out of blood? ;-)

For Shabbos, I went to the shul with my host and his son.
She found a Sidduch, English Hebrew. She showed me all the pages during all the service. I enjoyed it a lot.
My host is a sort of matchmaker. She wants to find me a husband absolutely.
She said that she has a French friend of 60 years old, living in Tzfat who wants to get married. I might be interested. ;-)
That's hard to have an opinion about someone that you haven't met yet.
She wanted to organize a meeting. Oh la la! ;-)

I became wild at that moment.

Before Shabbos, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

On our way back from the shul, I imagined how her husband looked like. He has probably peyos because her son has them.
But I forgot the shtreimel. When she opened the door, the husband looked at me with a big smile. And wow! He had a beautiful face, totally holy and majestic with his black grab.
How many years did I expect to have a dinner with a family from a strict sect? Let's forget the number.
The other surprise was that the 60 French man was there too.
How embarrassing it was, but I handled it like another experience in my exploration of that country.
During all the meal, I felt the looks of the Breslev couple when the French man and I were talking in our mother's tongue. Oh man!
The French man made an announcement: the Messiah will arrive this year between Pesach and Rosh Hashanah. I mentioned the WWIII. That might be something big like that.
Since 20 years, he decided not to travel abroad anymore, only in Israel. He has been disappointed by Israeli politicians. At each election, he writes on the ballot paper "Messiah Ben David". His vote is going to him. ;-)
Not my kind of men, and I felt that i will have to argue a lot with him for slices of freedom. ;-)
Then we went for a walk. I actually enjoyed talking to the husband. He has such a beautiful face and hands. He seemed very sensual. And he probably felt it. I looked at him so many times.
He even talked with me in the streets.

Food errands before Shabbos, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

He studies Torah and she works. 

Their house is such a mess. Many books, and pictures of rabbis...He is a BT, and the only ones amongst his siblings. He is from a South American country. That's where you understand that their focus is totally intellectual and religious.He read the weekly parashat and commented it. 

A brother or a friend taking photos of the Purim costume he wants,
Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Back from the stroll, we bumped into young Jewish men.

One of them talked about the shtreimel and hugged the husband. He put his shtreimel on his head and danced a little.
The husband went first in the house. 

My host talked to me and asked me how I found the French man and if I wanted to meet him again before leaving Tzfat on Sunday. Fortunately, she knew about the meeting I will have with the Lubaba the day after, that meant that I won't have time to meet him again. ;-)

I woke up late on Saturday and enjoyed the sun on the terrace. The clock that they have seems to work but it was always the same time.
There are bells from the shul that you can hear from the terrace but once inside, you loose the time.
I knocked at the door at my host, I thought, around 1pm.
Nobody replied, they might be asleep.
I went for the stroll and visit the citadel.
And what happened once again to me?
Tzfat is safe, remember? ;-)
A young man walking in the garden of the citadel was an exhibitionist. I didn't expect that for my first Shabbos like that. He was twice on my path doing the same stuff, I ran away asap.

I was back to the apartment, and my host came. She was worried that something happened to me, or that I was disappointed by them. She couldn't eat, said her husband. I shared the Chulent he cooked. Then, i had a nap.
She called me for the Havdalah, and he shared a page of the Torah with me.
I didn't ask for taking photos after the end of Shabbos. I think those moments are very personal.
He said something very interesting. He talked to his wife about my 'love' for the Hasidim, and he thinks that I should get married a Hasidic. ;-)

Breslev style: white sweat pants, before Shabbos, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Breslev style: grey sweat pants, tablet and cigarette, before Shabbos,
Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Late at night, I met the Lubaba. He told me that he was a Breslev and a BT too. He came to the religion after the army. He hid his peyos all the time.

He was very energic, meshuga, and very straightforward in the car. He asked me once again for the blood stuff, and told me what were his intentions for the night.But, there was a big but.

I have to go to the mikveh first. If not, he won't touch me.I was laughing because I didn't tell him if my intentions were the same as his.I was not scared because he has never been vulgar.

We went to his place and he insisted a lot about the mikveh. I just took a shower i told him many times. To go to the mikveh didn't enchant me.

That was my turn for asking questions about his sexual life.He admitted that he didn't use condoms with the girls he had after his divorce. That was very interesting how the purity of the soul makes your body pure in the mikveh according to him. To dive in the mikveh is supposed to cure the sexual diseases? :-)

I have never been in a mikveh before, so I accepted the offer as a new experience finally.

He had the key of a mikveh where I will be alone, and he will be the rabbi.

I didn't want to get my hair wet. That was fine for him, but once, I was in the mikveh, he said that I have to do it, and I did it three times. I had vampire eyes after that. ;-)

Chabad boys, Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

On Sunday, my host knocked at my door. I fell asleep late.
She wanted me to share a cup of tea with me before I pack my stuffs.
She already asked me many personal questions, but she was curious about my "date". I didn't elaborate. She wanted to know if I will meet him again. I don't know. We are friends on FB because he wants to see Paris on my wall.
Then she said something: "I feel that we have a strong connection like you are my sister. Do you feel the same?" Oh la la! That was so embarrassing! I replied: "I don't know. Maybe we have people in common in our family."
She didn't want me to leave. She helped me with my suitcase, and asked me twice if I understood the statistics that she was studying. I couldn't help her with maths.
I missed the bus finally.
We are friends on FB. She actually wants to be friend. That's very nice. She asked me if I have photos on my profile. Do you think that she will try to find me a Hasidic husband? ;-)

Leaving Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein

Leaving Tzfat, February 2015, ©emmarubinstein