Things I love about Lag B'Omer

Last night and today mark Lag B'Omer, the 33rd day of the counting of the Omer (the count which starts on the night after the Passover Seder and continues until the holiday of Shavuot).

I won't go into details about the counting or the reasons why the 33rd day is somewhat special (you can read about that here).  But one of the activities associated with the evening of the 33rd day (at least here in Israel) is sitting around a Medura (bonfire) with friends and family, singing, eating and basically having a grand old time.

I know from past years when I've written about this holiday that many of my readers hate the smoke, scavenging of wood (i.e. petty vandalism) and potential danger associated with the bonfires.  If you have to vent, go ahead... I won't stop you.

But I love the Medura tradition, and I love so many things associated with it: 

I love that my entire street gets together on the slope behind our homes and makes a neighborhood Medura, complete with singing, drinks and lots of salads and roasted foods.

I love that from our vantage point on our hillside we can see dozens of other Medurot dotting the landscape all around.

I love that there is a nice chill in the evening air which forces us ever closer to the hypnotizing blaze.

I love that the little kids ran around feeding twigs into the fires as their parents alternately yell encouragement and warnings to them.

I love that the humble potatoes in tin foil which are tossed into the flames at the start of the evening are elevated to star culinary status when pulled from the embers towards the end.

I love that Israelis (of every age and vintage) sit around the fires singing songs at the top of their lungs that they first learned in gan, even when they don't remember all the words. [la la lala...]

I love that at every Medura there is at least one person who remembers to bring a guitar.

I love that even tired, stressed Israelis look relaxed and elegant by firelight.

I love that once Israeli kids turn 13 or 14 they start lobbying to stay out (and up) later and later... until finally it is understood that they will be sitting around a Medura with their friends until dawn.

I love that at some point, teenagers start preparing a 'Poike'  (pronounced poy-keh); a big cast-iron stew pot filled with some of the most unlikely ingredients, and cooked over glowing coals, as part of their Medura ritual.  The recipes for a proper 'poike' are as varied and wonderful as the Jewish people.

I love that for days (and sometimes weeks) before Lag B'Omer kids team up to collect 'scrap' wood for their Medurot and stake out desirable spots for the blaze.

I love that the afternoon before Lag B'Omer friends ask casually about your plans for the Medura, and remind you to close all the windows in your house so the place doesn't stink of smoke for a week afterwards.

I love that when the singing dies down momentarily at one Medura, the participants can get ideas for new songs from (or even join in with) people singing at neighboring bonfires.

I love that as the evening ebbs, people go from Medura to Medura offering leftover food and extra wood.

I love that when pre-teen boys make their first Medura away from the prying eyes of adults, they have a 'unique' way of extinguishing it at the end of the evening.

I love that our youngest child Yonah (born here) has no idea that there are places in the world where Jews don't make Medurot on Lag B'Omer.

I love that Ariella and Gilad (our older kids) left us sweet notes informing us of their safe arrival back in the house, and asking (pleading) not to be awoken until absolutely necessary.

I love that most schools are closed on Lag B'Omer because the kids are all sleeping from having been out all night at Medurot.

I love that I don't have to explain any of this to my fellow Israelis.  They know.