In Israel, holy days mangle the workweek

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JERUSALEM — Long before the eve of Rosh Hashanah, Israel was already in the throes of "after-the-holidays syndrome."

This maddening phenomenon, which annually hits Jewish communities worldwide between Rosh Hashanah and Simchat Torah, is felt most keenly in Israel, where the Jewish calendar dictates life, at least most of the time.

Whereas Jews in the diaspora have to fit the Days of Awe into their secular workweek or school week, Israelis shut down their businesses and schools every time a holiday comes along.

In Israel, employees never have to beg for time off at holiday time, because all government offices and virtually all Jewish-owned businesses traditionally close. And because Jewish holidays begin at sundown, employers usually throw in this "preholiday" day off for good measure.

Schools, which open the last week of August or the beginning of September — despite the fact that it is hot enough to bake matzah in most classrooms at that time — take a short Rosh Hashanah break just a couple of weeks later. This ritual is repeated on Yom Kippur, which precedes a weeklong break for the duration of Sukkot. Classes finally resume the day after Simchat Torah.

Rather than deal with this scheduling nightmare — this year's holiday agenda does not bode well for courses meeting on Sundays, Mondays and Tuesdays — the country's universities will start their fall semester after the High Holy Days.

"In Israel, people take the Jewish calendar very seriously," says Steven Cohen, a sociologist at the Hebrew University's Melton Center for Jewish Education.

"The holidays mark a clear boundary between periods, between the old and new years," says Cohen, a U.S. immigrant.

Unfortunately, Cohen says, "today we have a real conflict between our preindustrial agricultural past and our postindustrial society. Back in preindustrial days, people didn't have the same kind of workweek. The 5-1/2-day workweek is an invention of the industrialized world."

The holidays' effect on the workweek "can be very frustrating," says Jerusalem environmental planner Mona Berdugo.

"Nothing gets done. It begins in August, when everyone goes away, and continues through Simchat Torah. Last year, when I sent out resumes in the summer, I was told I'd have to wait until after the holidays for a response."

Berdugo, who has a toddler, says the holidays also create a child-care nightmare.

"My daughter's [day care] is closed during Sukkot, not to mention the other holidays, and this off-again, on-again schedule makes it hard for kids to adjust."

Tel Aviv editor Becky Rowe says she and her husband cope with the holidays by visiting family in the United States.

"From a work standpoint, it's not even worth being here," she says. "August is bad enough because there's very little child care and parents bring their kids to the office. No one can get any work done. So my husband and I decided to take advantage of the time off, when the weather in the States is good."

While acknowledging that the holiday period is the worst possible time to order a new phone line or renovate a kitchen, many Israelis savor the slower pace that characterizes the holiday season.

"Sure it's tough that the kids are off from school," says an Orthodox father of five, "but the holidays allow me to take time off from work and be with the family. It's hectic but worth the effort to spend time together."

Rabbi Andrew Sacks, director of the Conservative Movement's Rabbinical Assembly of Israel, sees the holidays as a time of hope and renewal.

"Sure, almost nothing gets done in the outside world, but the holidays offer rabbis the opportunity to touch and activate people in large numbers," says Sacks, who also immigrated from America.

"As a movement we will address key issues like religious pluralism and the slaughter on the roads [from accidents], as well as the importance of organ transplants. We'll be handing out donor cards to encourage people to donate organs."

Although he does not minimize the frustrations of after-the-holidays syndrome, Sacks prefers to look on the bright side.

"Last year I was incredibly energized by the holidays. Instead of being `holidayed out,' as I am in the States, I found myself spiritually recharged."