Israeli Folk Dancing

Pledging peace on historic anniversary

Sunset Coast Doves release 40 doves Saturday in front of a large U.S. flag at the Phil Mitowski house at 5343 Cleveland Ave. in Lincoln Township. Mitowski has put out a large flag on every anniversary since the Sept.11, 2001, attacks. The flag caught the eye of Dan and Julie Smith, who own the doves, and they offered to bring the birds for a release at no charge. It takes the doves about 30 minutes to return home. Dan Smith is at left, in a suit, while Mitowski is front right. John Madill / H-P staff One of the event’s main purposes Sunday afternoon was to dedicate the planting of a peace pole. The official project of the World Peace Prayer Society, the peace pole at St. Paul’s is one of more than 200,000 across the globe. It includes the phrase “May peace prevail on Earth” in 12 languages, such as English, Gaelic, Japanese and Swahili. Somber prayers were intermingled with joyous musical and dance numbers from various community organizations. The All God’s Children Community Choir, with members ranging from 4 to 18 years old, sang songs such as “Peace is the World Smiling” and “Best of World” that got the audience clapping. Other performances included the Praise Dancers of Union Memorial A.M.E. Church and the Girls of Mercy from Berrien Springs, who sang songs in Chichewa, the national language of Malawi. Finally there were two sisters from Niles who performed traditional East Indian dances. We encourage your feedback and dialog, all comments will be reviewed by our Web staff before appearing on the Web site. If a comment you posted has not been published, it may not yet have been viewed by a Web editor, or it may have been rejected for violating our Web comments policy. Comments that are derogatory, contain personal attacks or are offensive in nature will not be approved. To read more about our Web comments policy, click here .

My Jerusalem | YU Beacon

We all know Jerusalem. A Jerusalem in which the sun glistens over all its inhabitants and commands them to awaken from their deep Jerusalem slumber. A Jerusalem in which the emotions of ancient history reawaken the virgin Jewish soul at the kotel and remind international youth of a feeling experienced by their ancestors. A Jerusalem in which the languages of the world converge into the ancient Hebraic language. A Jerusalem in which the aromas of the Near East permeate through the bustling market of Makhaneh Yehuda. A Jerusalem which hears the cries of its elders during late crisp nights at the Kotel and the laughter of the throngs of teenagers who roam the streets of Ben Yehuda and Hillel. A Jerusalem which flows with black and white swarms of Hassidim and echoes the voices of the ghettos of Eastern Europe.  A Jerusalem in which the shouts of the Knesset politicians reverberate throughout. A Jerusalem in which cranes dominate the skyline and the new light rail glides onto the streets. A Jerusalem in which the faces are familiar and the soldiers are becoming younger and younger. It is a Jerusalem in which the fresh mountainous air makes our bodies as though they are divine acts within themselves. Most people say that beauty is in the mundane. But that’s the thing: the notion of the mundane doesn’t even exist there, because nothing is mundane. Everything is extraordinary.

That is my Jerusalem. But what is the Jerusalem of 100 years ago? I spent this past summer living with my 100 year old Yemenite grandfather in the heart of Jerusalem in Nakhla’ot on Rehov Betzalel while working at an internship at a Public Relations firm in Har HaHotzfim, Jerusalem. My grandfather, Yosef Shmaryahu, was born on Tu B’Shevat in 1911 during the Turkish period in the neighborhood of Nakhla’ot in Jerusalem. Upon waking up in the morning at 7:00 AM every morning, my grandfather would don his 87 year old tallit and afterward describe the Jerusalem to me that once was. Sipping the muddy Turkish coffee on the porch overlooking the main street of Betzalel, he would bring me back in time to the Ottoman Empire. It was a time of suffering and war, when Turkish soldiers would stand along the sides of the street with their guns shooting whoever they pleased. The neighborhoods of Rechaviah, Sha’arei Hessed, and Nakhalat Akhim were desolate fields occupied by Arab and Jewish livestock.