If a guest were to drop in at Kehilla Community Synagogue in Piedmont last week, she would have seen the usual trappings of any Yom Ha’Atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day) celebration. There were songs. There were arts and crafts. There were falafel and Israeli salad.
But listening closely, when the simple cubes of cucumber and tomato were explained, it gave away that this celebration was in fact, very different.
“In Israel, we call this Salat Yisraeli,” said Avishai Pearlson, an Israeli teacher at Kehilla School. “But Palestinians call it Palestinian salad. Guess what they call it in Lebanon: Lebanese salad. And in Syria, they call it Syrian salad. And in Greece, they call it Greek salad. So that’s what this is.”
On Wednesday, April 18 and Thursday, April 19, rather than celebrate Israeli Independence Day, Kehilla students marked its first-ever Yom Shalom, or “Peace Day.”
With the participation of several local Muslims, the day definitely took on a unique spin.
In one room, students could choose between either learning how to write their names in Hebrew and Arabic, temporary henna tattoos, or making hamsas (the symbol of a hand that wards off the evil eye that is common to Jews and Arabs alike) out of Shrinky Dinks.
Fifth-grader Quentin Levin of Richmond was especially pleased with his Shrinky Dink hamsa, showing it off to Kehilla principal Elizheva Hurvich. But when she asked him whether he thought Shrinky Dinks could help bring peace to the world, he answered, “Not really.”
Meanwhile upstairs in the sanctuary, Yari Mander led a workshop on drumming. And in the social hall, students worked on a multi-colored peace mural, with the centerpiece being the words “shalom” in Hebrew and “salaam” in Arabic. There was also a psychedelic orange and blue peace sign, a purple and lavender dove with an olive branch in its beak and a light orange sun.
“There’s still a whole lot of white space that needs to get filled in,” instructed Ross Holzman, a collaborative artist and founder of an initiative called “Banners for Peace,” who was hired for the two days.
And then there was the kitchen. Pearlson supervised a small coterie of students chopping cucumbers and tomatoes, making sure they were small enough, while others mixed lemon juice and garlic into bowls of tehina.
Rabbi Burt Jacobson, founder of Kehilla, seemed pleased by Yom Shalom, though he said it was really Hurvich’s idea.
“We don’t celebrate Yom Ha’Atzmaut here, per se, because what Independence Day is to the Israelis is ‘Al Nakba’ to the Palestinians,” explained Hurvich, using the Arabic word that translates to “the catastrophe.” “Instead, we can celebrate what we have in common, like our Abrahamic roots.”
Jacobson agreed that Yom Shalom was a reflection of the founding values of Kehilla: that Palestinians were entitled to a state as well.
When Jacobson first founded Kehilla, in 1984, he said, “I felt that one synagogue in the world could take such a position, especially here in Berkeley.”
Outside the proceedings, in the hallway, was a mock Western Wall, constructed of blocks wrapped in brown paper. Students were asked to write their own hopes for peace, and then insert them into the cracks in the wall. The notes will be taken to Israel this summer by a Kehilla congregant.
Eli Solomon, a third-grader from Alameda, sat working on a note to put in the wall. He wrote the words “love” and “magic.” When asked whether he thought magic was needed to bring peace to the Middle East, he responded: “Yeah, love and magic.”
When it came time to say the blessings before eating, Rabbi David Cooper noted that the word “lechem,” does not only mean “bread” in Hebrew, but “food” in Arabic.
Before the bread was blessed, Essra Mostafavi, media coordinator of the Islamic Cultural Center of Northern California in Oakland, offered a prayer in Arabic that she translated and explained: “One of the names for God in Arabic is ‘Changer of Hearts.’ This prayer says, ‘Oh Changer of Hearts, let our hearts change so they are more inclined toward each other.'”