"Here, right here. Step on this blinking red strip and you will immediately be
transported to any type of lifetime you wish to imagine!"
"No, lady, this isn't a time machine where things have already happened. This is a
new invention, made possible by the most advanced technology. I.M., the amazing
Imagination Machine."
The guide glued my shoe onto the red blinking strip and I felt myself immediately
transported to a colorful exciting place I had always dreamt about, a picturesque
rural landscape.
"Wow! I can't believe it! How did they do this? How did they know what I've always
wished for?"
Right now I am walking along the Israeli border. The sight is breathtaking. A
refreshing breeze to accompany my stroll among lush vegetable fields, with verdant
fruit trees bending under the weight of beckoning fruit. Every few meters stands a
soldier guarding this beloved land. Not in khaki uniform but in white shirt with
tzitzis and a Tehillim in hand. No guns. As I turn into one of the villages
that dot this part of the country, I see young girls modestly dressed, going about
their daily chores with smiling faces.
*
"Shalom," greeted a woman who introduced herself as Geveret Zahavi. "May I offer you
a drink? We are all chareidi now, as you know. We use only the best
hechsheirim, even in this remote area. Please come in and rest a bit from your
hike." It was getting hotter and I couldn't resist her invitation. I introduced
myself as I entered, and kissed an unusually large mezuza on her doorpost.
"Mrs. Zahavi," I said, "I hope you won't mind my asking a few questions."
"Feel free," she answered graciously, coming in from the kitchen with a tray.
"First of all, I'm so impressed with the young soldiers all along the border. How did
it happen? The last time I was here, all of them were in khaki, without kippot.
Some of them were downright rude to our tour group of chareidim. I consider this a
change of historical importance."
"Gladly, Geveret Laufer. I see you haven't been here for some time. Well, we were
having this unrest and chaos in Israeli political life following the Erev Rosh
Hashona riots. The situation was going from bad to worse. Every few days another
incident, victims wounded or killed. And here, in these remote agricultural villages
on the border, it was hard to tell who was friend or foe, since the Arabs started
dressing like us: denim pants, checked shirts, shorts. Our families were in danger
and the men had instructions to shoot to maim in self defense, but we had a real
problem on our hands. After a few accidental shootings of Jews, our local council met
to decide what to do to prevent future accidents of this kind. One young chozer
bitshuva came up with an outrageous idea. He suggested that we all begin dressing
in traditional Jewish garb. For men, white shirts, a kipa, tzitzis
dangling, for women, proper head coverings, modest dresses and stockings, with the
same for children, since even Arab children were known to be dangerous. "Try to
imagine what a commotion this raised. But he wasn't finished. When the room quieted
down enough for his voice to be heard over the microphone, he went on to explain that
this was not religious coercion, only a very practical way of differentiating between
Jew and Arab. Surprisingly enough, no one chased the fellow out or revoked his
membership. And since no one could come up with anything better, the idea began to
sink into our brains.
"Finally, after a particularly difficult week of casualties that might have been
avoided by the proper identification, we got together again and our chairman
suggested that we vote on a trial period of two weeks, after which we would meet
again to evaluate. The landslide vote mustered 85% of the members. When we got
together two weeks later, we all realized that there had been only one attempt of an
Arab sneaking in, and he had been apprehended immediately, to his surprise. We all
agreed to continue wearing traditional clothing.
"What happened next was almost funny. Wherever we went, people assumed that we were
religious and started asking us halachic questions. It felt uncomfortable and
somehow, dishonest. In order to save face, we started to inquire what being Jewish
was all about. We organized lectures, study classes and began gravitating to an
authentic Torah lifestyle."
"What a story!" I said. "If that's the case, then I would really like to join your
community, to buy some property here. Is there anything for sale?"
"Oh, yes. We have beautiful mansions with 2 dumans of land where you could plant
whatever you like. After shmitta, of course. But you should know, we are very
strict about whom we take in here, and very meticulous about every single
halocha and custom. You would have to conform."
"I would be happy to, believe me! Now, could you show me those houses? I'd love to
get started. It's like a dream come true! I love this place!"
She took off her apron and led me outside. I followed her when suddenly, I stumbled,
twisted my foot and felt a tug at my shoe. Now, just as my dream was coming true,
this had to happen...
"Mommy, what do we have for supper today? I'm hungry!"
My five-year-old knows that if I doze off while feeding the baby, the best way to
waken me is to untie my shoe!
