5/16/26- In Defense of Typos

 5/16/26 In Defense of Typos

We’ve just concluded a beautiful Havdalah ceremony to end our last full day in Central Europe. Havdalah means “distinction” and refers to the distinction that we make between Shabbat and the other days of the week. It’s fitting that our trip began and ended with Havdalah. While our 8th grade trip is very much a part of all that came before it, it is also a distinct, unique, and therefore special experience. While this blog and our daily photos coupled with the more important first hand accounts that you’ll hear in the coming days can give you a glimpse into what we took place here, there will be aspects of the experience that don’t translate, that can’t be explained, and that will exist only for those of us who have been blessed to be here together. 

Our last full day in Budapest was spent trying to outrun the impending rain. We started the day with a picture perfect visit to the Buda Castle. There’s no point in describing the view, you’ll just have to see the pictures. From there we headed to Margaret Island, a small island in the middle of the Danube. 

On Margaret Island we rode special golf cart/bicycle type contraptions called (at least in Budapest) “Bringos”. Once we learned how to honk their primitive horns, pull their rudimentary breaks, and pedal together as one, we enjoyed zipping around the island both on and off the official route. It was a novel experience with lots of smiles. A great fresh air activity enjoyed by all. After replenishing with lunch, we hit the Bathhouse. The kids embraced the mandatory swim caps even if some didn’t avail themselves of the inviting pools. Those who swam reported soothing water and lots of fun. The rain began mid-swim but we were undeterred. 

By the time we left Margaret Island the rain was definitely “a thing.” But again, we persevered and returned to the Jewish Quarter for some outdoor shopping. Final souvenirs were selected and remaining Hungarian currency exchanged for an array of goods. 

Post shopping we returned to the Danube for an evening dinner cruise. Together we enjoyed traditional Hungarian cuisine and music along with the stunning views of Budapest. Toward the end the kids organized themselves in a circle for some sharing of funniest, favorite, and other assorted memories. After each share, there was a thunderous applause. 

Annually, I look forward to the joyful responsibility of chronicling our 8th grade trip in this blog format. I do my best to summarize activities but also to connect them to the bigger picture of what a Davis education might mean for our students now and in the future. While I put thought and care into the blog, it’s also done under varying degrees of exhaustion and occasional duress as we navigate evening duties for our kids. As such, there are always typos, thoughts left incomplete, and sentiments that don’t make the “final cut.” Sometimes, after hitting “publish” I’ll notice a typo and go back to tidy things up. I didn’t do that this year. Even though I noticed at least a handful of misspellings and grammatical errors, I felt like this was the year to leave them there. I’ve been reflecting on why I chose to let them be. 

We’re living in a strange moment. A moment when more than the usual amount of people are asking big questions about what it means to be human. A lot of these questions are prompted by AI. Why fall in love with an actual person when you can fall in love with an AI chatbot? Why write your own essay when ChatGPT can do it for you? Why go to a doctor when you can submit a photo of your affliction to an AI program and get a (better? worse?) answer? Why be a messy, imperfect, flawed, stumbling human, when you can pretend to be immaculate in all areas? Sound like an AI rant? Maybe so. But I feel for all of us that are asking even the most innocuous of these types of questions. I’m not an AI apocalypse type person. But c’mon. Can’t we agree it’s a little “weird” out there at the moment? 

So as for typos? I’m embracing them. I’m embracing them as a sign of my humanity. I don’t want you or me to wonder if these words were written by an algorithm. I’m embracing the typos. And I hope that our kids will do the same. 

Sometimes it rains when you’re in Budapest. Sometimes you overpay for a souvenir and regret it. Sometimes the itinerary changes. Sometimes something you’re excited about ends up being disappointing. It happens. And the opposite is true. Sometimes you surprise yourself with how thoughtful and articulate you are. Sometimes you discover a level of strength you didn’t know you possessed. Sometimes you end up being the friend that someone really needed in that moment. Sometimes you really do live your values unironically and with your whole heart. Being human means welcoming it all, our shortcomings and our great moments. We can’t have one without the other. 

When the class of 2026 looks back on their journey, as they have been this evening, they’ll see that it was a human journey. It was a journey they took together, guided by the adults who know, and love, and care for them. The humanness of the journey is what makes it truly transformational, what makes it instructional, what makes it real. Keep this in mind when they unpack their bags tomorrow. Keep this in mind as you help them share their experiences here. Keep this in mind as you model for them how to close a special and sacred chapter in their lives and begin to write the next one. Let the little typos slide, chalk them up to humanity. Teach them how to write with big, beautiful, truthful, iconoclastic, and grateful words. Teach them how to own their unique human stories. Teach them how to create their lives on purpose. They’ll thank you for it even though they won’t need to.

5/15/26 From The Danube to The Frankel Synagogue

 5/15/26-- From The Danube to The Frankel Synagogue

A great day spent exploring Budapest was bookended by two extraordinary Jewish moments. This morning we visited the solemn “Shoes on the Danube” Memorial and this evening we celebrated Shabbat at The Frankel Synagogue. 

During the winter of 1944-1945, the Hungarian Arrow Cross Regime enthusiastically undertook and effort to rid Hungary of her Jews. With unrelenting barbarism and cruelty they built ghettos, coordinated death marches, figured out how to deport 12,000 Jews daily by cattle car, and also bloodied the waters of the Danube River by dragging Jews there, forcing them to remove their shoes, tying them together, and then firing only enough bullets to force the still living along with the just murdered victims into the Danube where those that were still alive would freeze or drown, whichever came first. The number of Jews murdered in this fashion during the horrible winter of 19441945 is somewhere between 5,000-20,000. A stark and powerful memorial, bronzed shoes, humbly marks one of the many embankments where this atrocity occurred. Not lost on those who visit is the fact that these murders took place in plain sight. The Danube is lined with government buildings, cafes, apartments, and even the Presidential Palace of Budapest. While there are many stories of righteous gentiles and miraculous survival, it is a solemn and tragic site. 

After a day of wandering, chocolate making, shopping, and Hungary’s finest Mexican food for lunch, we crossed the Danube into Buda (as opposed to Pest), so that we could visit The Frankel Synagogue for Shabbat. We were greeted by members of their youth group who quickly engaged our kids in a series of fun icebreaking activities. Prior to services we hung out in their BBYO themed youth lounge. There we lit Shabbat candles, ate challah, and hung out. While Shabbat services were a bit hard to follow due to the blend of Hungarian and Hebrew, the many side conversations taking place in the congregation, and the general novelty of the experience, I am confident the overall impression was deeply moving and unforgettable. Here we were, in Budapest, at a Shabbat service, listening to a sermon in Hungarian, watching young children play on the bimah before receiving a Shabbat blessing and a sweet treat, sharing names for the Mishbeirach healing prayer, singing Oseh Shalom and so much more. As was the case last year, we were treated to a true cantorial performance from the synagogue’s cantor. Take a moment to imagine the most iconically Jewish singing voice imaginable. That’s the cantor of The Frenkel Synagogue. His voice transports you into the Jewish past, back to a time when pious Jews truly felt that it was the cantor’s job to lift all of our communal prayers up to the throne of God on High. The combination of the cantor’s voice, the murmuring of the congregation, the creaking of the ancient wooden pews, when all taken together, it felt so deeply and sincerely Jewish. And while there was much about The Frenkel Synagogue that felt unfamiliar to our kids, there was so much more that felt familiar--  Shabbat candles, Challah, blessing children, Hebrew words, BBYO posters, Kippot, the Shema, prayer books. Here we are, halfway around the world, in a place where most of us have never been. And yet somehow we are at home. Our kids may not be able to articulate that, but they felt it for sure.

5/14/26-- Budapest, Layer by Layer

 5/14/26 Budapest, Layer by Layer

It’s easy to fall in love with Budapest. The people are interesting and, for the most part, friendly. Many of them have dogs and, as sometimes happens, look perfectly matched with their canine companions. Residents and tourists alike race around the streets of Budapest in every which way, filling the cafes, crowding the intersections, and participating in the energetic spirit of the city. Neighbors oscillate between wide and impressive boulevards and small and inviting alleyways. There are bookstores, record stores, vintage clothing boutiques, and an endless amount of cafes proudly serving both traditional Hungarian food and every type of cuisine imaginable. There are people of all ages out and about, including many young adults and teens. Even though Prague can boast the likes of Franz Kafka, it’s easy to see why Budapest has the most celebrated literary tradition, including a 2025 Nobel Prize winning author. There’s something literary and intellectual in the vibe here. Unsurprisingly, Budapest is the favored city among our 8th graders. 

Budapest’s charming and lively vibe helps make sense of one of the great questions that Jewish visitor to this city must ask: Why did the Jews stay? Why, when Hungary was an ally of Germany during the 2nd World War, did the Jews stay? Why did they stay when antisemitic laws were passed beginning in the 1930s? Why did they stay when the first deportation of Jews from Hungary didn’t begin until the very late date of May 1944 and the horrors of Auschwitz were not entirely unknown? As Agi, our local Jewish tour guide explained: It’s home. The Jews of Budapest love their city. The same reasons that kept them here and led to more than 430,000 being deported and killed beginning in May 1944 are the reasons why Budapest is one of the most vibrant and thriving Jewish communities of Europe today, with more than 120,000 Jews. The Hungarian Jewish community was, and is, a proud and accomplished Jewish community that feels deeply connected to their home country and city. 

There’s no greater physical symbol of the pride and love that Hungarian Jews feel for Budapest than the Dohany Synagogue. This impressive synagogue is the 6th largest in the world. Massive construction continued on the synagogue as late as 1930, when the rising tide of fascism was already beginning to sweep over Europe. Sitting in the wooden pews of the Dohany Synagogue, we heard all about the Jewish community, including what I’ve shared here. Sadly, on the very same grounds as the synagogue, there are mass graves for Jews that perished in the Budapest Ghetto during WWII. It is against Jewish law to have a cemetery on the same grounds as a synagogue, but it is an even greater violation of Jewish law to exhume bodies for reburial unless absolutely necessary. For that reason, the mass graves remain in the courtyard that was originally intended to have a beautiful reflecting pool. 

Today’s lunch and dinner were, once again, Pizur style. Pizur is quickly becoming a favorite Hebrew word among our 8th graders so be prepared for them to request Pizur style meals back home. As a reminder, Pizur means spreading out and having free choice. After Pizur 1 (lunch) and before Pizur 2 (dinner), we did some fabulous shopping and also rode a beautiful Ferris Wheel. In between our shopping and Ferris Wheel we did something very special: we visited the Budapest Jewish Community Center (JCC). 

Located in a decent sized property on one of Budapest’s main boulevards, the JCC keeps a relatively low profile while offering an incredible array of programming. We didn’t visit the JCC last year, so it was a new experience for all of us. During our hour there we met with a group of elderly adults. This wasn’t just any group, it was their informal singing group. They sang for us and, even more notably, with us. The song selection ranged from Hativkah to George Gershwin to a Hungarian version of Leonard Cohen’s Halleluyah. We sang in Hebrew and in Yiddish and eventually went from singing to dancing. To sing and dance with these elderly Jews was an unforgettable joy. Where else in the world can two groups of people meet across such differences: age, language, nationality… and unite in an even stronger bond of faith, tradition, culture, and heritage? It was, as we say at Davis, a Kol Yisrael moment. Meeting some of Budapest’s elderly Jewish community in such a joyful and authentic fashion was the perfect balm to a morning spent bearing witness to the devastating impact of the Holocaust on this city and country. 

One additional special moment from today needs to be mentioned. Ron, one of our wonderful Israel tour guides, is the only child of two Hungarian Holocaust survivors. While at Terezin he shared the story of his father, the only one to survive when his family was quickly and unexpectedly deported from a small Hungarian town to Auschwitz. Today he told his “mama’s” story and his grandma’s story. His mama’s biological father, a Jew, was essentially sent to his death when the Hungarian army sent him and others like him to clear mine fields on behalf of the army, without any protective gear. Meanwhile, her much beloved step father was killed right in front of her eyes when a stray bullet entered their Budapest apartment in 1956 during a prolonged street battle that was part of the Communist occupation of Budapest at that time. After losing her step father, Ron’s mama made Aliyah to Israel, leaving behind her own mother and all she had ever known here in Budapest. We were deeply moved to hear Ron’s family story. Hearing his story was a reminder that, as Jews, our lives are often deeply intertwined with the more general cadences of human history, for better or worse. 

So far, Budapest has grown only more beloved with each layer that we uncover. Tomorrow we will uncover additional layers of Budapest, some charming and some heartbreaking. It will be meaningful to join with our 8th graders in making sense of this city that is, in so many ways, a microcosm of the world itself: so wonderful and so heartbreaking. But on days like today, I think we can cling in good conscience to the wonderfulness of it all and allow ourselves to say that it was a great day.