Out and About in Limerick

We spent a day exploring Limerick, Ireland's third-largest city. Below are some photos of our findings.

King John's castle, built circa 1200

 I came in peace, but all I got was a volley of flaming arrows. You just can't negotiate with Normans.

Historical poster in Limerick museum announcing monster meeting. Would have loved to be there.

At the home of a local Jewish family. They kindly gave us a tour of the University of Limerick campus as well as the town's small Jewish cemetery, which has only recently been restored.

Meetings and Greetings

Israeli outpost at Graiguenamanagh, County Kilkenny

At Trinity College, Dublin

At the Celtic and Prehistoric Museum near Dingle, County Kerry. The owner, an accomplished musician, invited me to play on his rare 1933 steel guitar. Serious business ensued.

We found Eliyahu Hanavi. He lives on the edge of a small town in County Roscommon

Driving Through Western Cork County and Kerry County

This was a spectacular drive, taking us through some of the most beautiful landscapes we've seen. Our route took us along the south-west coast of Ireland, through Killarney National Park and the Ring of Kerry.

A damp shroud of mist envelopes a deserted beach. Somewhere in the distance, a foghorn sounds.

Often when we strike up conversation with locals and discuss our travels with them, they express an acute awareness of--and sincerely apologise for--the lack of sunshine in their country. But I suppose people don't come to Ireland for sunshine. They come for a rich landscape; a quiet road; a mysterious spirit.

Musical entertainment at Vincent Coughlan's Pub is ably provided by the Merry Olde Five of Ballydehob. Several kegs of Murphy's are added for effect.

A lone ram, having escaped its confines and not quite sure what to do next, amuses passing motorists.

 You don't even have to get out of your car to appreciate the natural beauty of County Kerry.

 But if you want to, you certainly can.

More Photos - Cork and Environs

"These are not just strawberries," the proprietor assured us. "These are... (leaning forward, voice lowered) ...Wexford strawberries."

Entrance to the historic home (and minor tourist attraction) of Mr. Gavin Falk, Innishannon.

"Sit on the armrest, please do."

A typical scene in rural Cork county, where it is hard to keep track of hours, even days

Affixing a mezuza in the remote town of Balineen

Bar Mitzvah celebration, Cork

Evidently we have made ourselves quite comfortable in our Cork hotel room. Alas tomorrow we must move on...

Shabbos in Cork, Ireland

Dovid and I have spent Shabbos in the southern Irish city of Cork.

The history of its Jewish community is an old and fascinating one, and there is a well-placed 19th-century synagogue near the city center. In the absence of a permanent rabbi it has been diligently upheld by a communal leader in recent years, despite the unfortunate fact that the community is in decline.

On Friday afternoon we took a taxi from our hotel to the synagogue, driven by an affable, heavy-set Irishman who provided us with a most entertaining monologue, covering a broad range of topics from the Queen's recent visit to the legendary history of the city's breweries.

We arrived at the synagogue, a dignified house of worship though not excessively grand. The smell of ancient books pervaded the air as we waited for our acquaintances to arrive for the Friday evening services and Kiddush which we had arranged.

Although we were a little short of a minyan, we were happy that all those we had invited had managed to come. Over some sweet wine and a few bites we enjoyed the privilege of meeting these precious people and sharing some words of inspiration. They told us that during these summer months, in the absence of any Jewish students from the University College of Cork, getting a minyan is a particularly significant challenge.

We did enjoy the long Shabbos afternoon by walking Cork's narrow streets, which displayed a strong historic character. As we have so often on this trip, we exchanged pleasantries with curious onlookers, non of whom were Jewish but some of whom considered us to be Amish.

Before and after Shabbos, we drove around Cork's surrounding area and made a number of home visits. Each told another story; offered a unique experience.

I do hope that Cork does not evolve into another Ballarat; home of a once thriving synagogue now frozen in perpetual obsolescence. I pray that the synagogue can still fill its pews in coming years; that it can still host a minyan within its humble walls. I can't help but imagine how important a role the city's Jewish students will play in this.

For now, however, it seems that the community is experiencing something of a minor hiatus - not its twilight years, G-d forbid, but a hiatus - nothing other than a momentary northern summer's night in a long, shining history of Jewish activity.

More Photos

There are so many old castles and gaols in Ireland that it's difficult to keep track of them. This one was spotted today in Wexford.

 Door-knocking in the picturesque town of New Ross

 You don't mess with Normans.

 We stopped for lunch at the lovely New Ross waterfront, home of the 'Dunbrody'

 Tefillin in Waterford, Ireland's oldest city

 More stunning views in the coastal town of Tramore, near Waterford

Another Israeli ponders life in the Emerald Isle. We later visited his house and met his wonderful family.

Photos

During a foray north we discovered the beautifully rugged coast near Giant's Causeway

 Visiting the birthplace of the Titanic in Belfast, standing on what was once the Titanic slipway. The newly-built Titanic museum can be seen in the background.

Affixing a mezuza in the historic town of Kilkenny, in southern Ireland

 Visiting the estate of one of the only Jews in Wexford County, Ireland

Viewing a formidable collection of ancient archaeological artifacts

The weather finally assumed its anticipated mood as we drove through Wexford County this morning 

An Outpouring in the Wilderness

Although we are meeting precious Jewish souls on a daily basis, there are those who stand out; whose stories beg to be told.

Meet Yoram, an Israeli who has lived in Ireland for some twenty-six years and established himself as a prominent Celtic artist.

Walking into his studio in the humble town of Castleblaney one is greeted with a vast array of quite non-Jewish looking sculptures. "Lo taaseh l'chah pesel—You shall not make yourself a carved image!" he said with a grin as he welcomed us in, quoting one of the Ten Commandments. "I know about that. But I know very well who I am; I'm not worried about them," he said, pointing to the artifacts. Among them we noticed a plaque on which was inscribed a Hebrew prayer for prosperity.

Unfortunately for Yoram, business has slowed in recent times. Although he has been visited by shluchim in the past, the current lull in activity allowed us the luxury of a far reaching conversation.

Yoram shared his fascinating background with us, including how he landed in Ireland (by marrying an Irish woman he met on a kibbutz in Israel) and his rise to fame in the Irish art community. Understandably not all locals took his intrusion into their own area of expertise very well. Nevertheless, with his talented hands and ambition he has found much success.

In the middle of our conversation, as if on cue, Yoram's father called from Israel. "Shalom Abba!" he answered the phone. "I have two rabbis here who have come to visit me, and we're going to put on tefillin together!" His father, an active member of a Jerusalem synagogue, sounded very pleased, his nachas palpable over the speakerphone.

When it came time for Yoram to put on tefillin he proudly procured his own beautifully-made pair, given to him by his father. However, as we proceeded to remove their plastic coverings, Yoram appeared shocked. "Why are you taking those off?" he asked. When we explained that wearing tefillin with their covers is in fact halachically questionable, he informed us that he had mistakenly done so for a three month period last year, during which he experienced terrible luck in business. Now enlightened, he proceeded to don them with enthusiasm.

While reading the third paragraph of the Shema, Yoram's voice began to change noticeably. Then, quite suddenly, as he said the words, "V'lo sasuru acharei l'vavchem," the floodgates opened and he sobbed, while I in turn shifted my gaze to the floor and did not much else. After several moments he recomposed himself and concluded, thanking us for our understanding.

He then invited us to take some photos with him, but only in the next room, "away from the forbidden images."

A short while after our visit, I found the following email in my inbox:

שלום לכם יהודים יקרים,

רבנים אשר ודויד !!

תודה לכם מקרב לב על הביקור שלכם. עשיתם מצווה גדולה לשבת איתי. מאוד התרגשתי להרגיש כל כך טוב ליד אנשים יהודים כמוני. פתאום הרגשתי כמה זה חשוב שיש אנשים יהודים שאכפת להם ממני. אני כבר 26 שנים באירלנד ואף פעם לא הרגשתי כל כך קרוב ליהדות. ( מי אני,מה אני ). ירדו לי דמעות מרוב התרגשות, אני מקווה שלא נורא והשם סולח לי!?

בעת הנחת תפילין הרגשתי שהשמים נפתחים והשם שומע אותי ואת תפילתי. נראה שעשיתם מצווה גדולה באותו יום ואני מקווה שהשם יגמול לכם על כך.

אני חוזר ומניח תפילין כל בוקר וזה מעלה את רוחי . אני פתאום מרגיש שאני יהודי ואני שמח בחלקי.

פשוט הצלתם נשמה יהודית וזה דבר כל כך חשוב וטוב. לא אשכח זאת לעולם [...] תודה מקרב לב,

שלום על ישראל.

בשנה הבאה בירושליים !

יורם [...] והמשפחה

Translation:

Hello to you, precious Jews,
Rabbis Osher and Dovid!!
Thank you very much for your visit. You have done a great mitzvah sitting with me; I was very excited to sit with Jews like myself. I suddenly realized how important it is that there are Jews who care about me. I’m in Ireland 26 years now and never felt so close to Judaism. I cried due to the strong emotions. I hope that's okay and that G‑d forgives me!
When I put the Tefillin on I felt as if the heavens had opened and that G‑d was listening to me and my prayers. It appears you did a big mitzvah on that day and I hope that G‑d rewards you for it.
I put on Tefillin again each morning, and it uplifts me. I suddenly feel Jewish and I am happy with my lot.
You literally saved a Jewish soul, which is such a good, important thing. I will never forget it.
Thank you from the depths of my heart.
Peace be upon Israel.
Next year in Jerusalem!

Yoram [...] and family

These are precious words, written by a precious soul in the Irish wilderness. How profoundly inspiring it is to witness such an outpouring.

Trip Notes - The North

Driving through a small town near the Northern Ireland border, we encountered a number of police checkpoints. The heightened security was due to a public holiday known as The Twelfth, on which the Northern Irish light bonfires and generally run amok (albeit in a relatively orderly fashion). I was going to yell out the window, "End Irish civil war! British army leave!" but determined it unwise.

Ireland has two official languages - English and Irish. It is most important to concentrate intently on what a local is saying - firstly to determine which language he is speaking, and secondly to determine what he is actually trying to say.

In the town Donaghadee, Northern Ireland, no doubt is left regarding allegiance. The Republic and the Kingdom may fortunately get along okay today, but it wasn't always that way.

We enjoyed an hours-long discussion and learned much history together with this couple. Abraham was quite eager to put on tefillin with us and proved to be rich with Jewish knowledge.

Same, but different. Driving on the left side of the road, looking at nearly identical road signs, yet so, so far from home.

We continue to be blessed with abundant sunshine. On the way to one of our appointments the main road was closed by the police, and we we were told to make a detour. When we told the officer where we were headed, his eyes widened in surprise and he took a deep breath. "What you're going to do," he said in a nearly incomprehensible accent, "is just turn left here and go all the way down the road. Just keep driving and driving until you reach the end of that road. After that you make a left, and you'll find yourself back on the main road. But you don't want to turn left until you reach the end, all the way at the end of that road, okay?"

"So how long in distance would you estimate this road to be, officer?" I asked

"Oh," he said, gazing distantly. "Around about nearly almost two miles, I'd say."

Abundantly clear signage is another Irish phenomenon we've noticed. You just want to make sure that when you enter a One Way System you will be able to exit, that's all.

Visiting Oxford Island, a national nature reserve. Here we exchanged many pleasant greetings with curious passersby.

More to come!

Pictures - Belfast, Northern Ireland

First glimpse of the luscious Irish countryside, driving from Dublin to Belfast. The sun was out for much of the day, in what we were told was a very rare appearance. Locals were observed holding neatly folded newspapers above their heads and scurrying indoors .

The shliach's house, where we will be staying until after Shabbos. This picture was taken at 10pm!

Davening at the Belfast Synagogue, a virtual treasure trove of characters. They are ably guided by the shliach Rabbi Mendy Brackman (at bimah).

Outside the synagogue. Exiting behind me is Shmuli, the rabbi's oldest child.

Dovid Blecher, my trusted companion.