Life of Yeshiva Guy

…The Local Druggie burns his hovel up, and random bochurim pitch in to help him out.

…The waitress at the restaurant informs you in no uncertain terms that she’ll take her tip in cash, (omits please).

…A lady give $100,000 to HU. The lady was homeless.

…You’re impressed by your Egged-mates’ shtatty looking Oyster Perpetual watch…until upon closer inspection you realize it says “Rol(od)ex” on it, not Rolex.

…Cars and motorcycles arbitrarily disobey traffic laws…why not?

…A random, fatherly type dude on the train scolds you, loudly, for putting your feet up- in a mussardike way. (Happened to friend).

…There, the Blacks speak Hebrew. Here, the Hebrews speak Black> (Israelis love showing off their poor command of ebonics).

…Ten men gather together to daven in a minyan…and no two belong to the same sect/denomination.

…There, the cars are BIG. Here, the cars are smallll.

…The beggars wear tefillin.

…You walk into an innocent looking coffee house to get a Coke and use the internet, and the waiter tells you “It isn’t kosher here”.

…You go out on a shidduch, and have loads of fun. With the wrong girl.

…You’re bored at 2AM, but never fear…you can always go to the Kosel, and have a heart to heart with G-d.

…You can’t for the life of you figure out the parking lot’s pricing matrix…because it doesn’t make any sense.

…All around you, (chareidi) men are wearing tighter shirts than (chiloni) ladies.

…You can’t get over the fact that the three primary colors are not, in fact, BWB (Black, White,Black).

…People are rioting! Wait…why? No one is sure.

…Free hot cocoa; no, not in camp, but at the Kosel.

Not really. I’m not sefardi, or getting married. But, when I stopped at Misadah Yehudis in Bnei Brak yesterday evening to chap a little heimishe essen (and by the way, I haven’t had such greasy food since Boro Park Thursday Nights), I couldn’t resist crashing this Sefardi wedding taking place next door at the King David hall.

The first video (below) is the chosson and kallah walking up-they do this differently than us;by them its a group event- and the initial chuppah proceedings.

The second video (below) is the breaking of the glass and onwards (note the doves! released midway through the video).

I’m walking down the street in Tel Aviv, dressed to the nines in khakis and a white cotton T-shirt. Aside from my watch, I could’ve purchased my entire wardrobe for a C-note.
And I’m feeling right at home. I blend right in with my environment. I feel completely indigenous. Like I’ve been walking these streets my whole life. Like I’ve been born to the
beat and pulse of the big city- disgusting though I know it is.

Often, when in my Yeshivishe garb, strolling down King George, Yaffo, or a street in Manhattan, I feel out of place. Similar to the way a chayal must feel in Zichron Moshe. Incongruous.
Black hats, pants, and a white shirt may make me look like a penguin, but it doesn’t do too much to help me blend in with the immodestly dressed pedestrians of secular Jerusalem.
And I’m sorry to say that in this regard, our Holy City is far too close to Manhattan or Tel Aviv.

And that is the way it should be. Feeling out of place, I mean. A yeshiva bochur shouldn’t feel at home in the streets. So why do I feel so comfortable now?
Shouldn’t I be feeling some disconnect, no- some nervousness- with these secular surroundings? Shouldn’t I be racing to get of here?

But I continue my slow walk down the street, enjoying the surroundings. Admiring the buildings. The people. The cars.
And I realize, that if only once in a while, I need some secular “culture”. Like a druggie’s fix, it is something I’ve come to crave.
No doubt, if I were to ask a Rabbi type, he’d tell me that I’m fooling myself. Fooling myself into thinking that I need it, when in reality,
it’s precisely what I don’t need- what I need to get away from.

But there’s the funny thing about us. Sometimes we don’t ask. And we choose to, as Nike so aptly puts it, “Just Do It”.
We, in the above context, covers the entire gamut of yeshiva guys; Briskers, Mir guys, and Bais/Medrash types. We all do things without asking,
knowing the answer we’d get would be a NO.

So I keep walking. As always, feeling guilty about something. I need to learn how to walk without shame.

Or maybe I just need to stop walking.