As I'm writing this, a crisis is escalating in Gaza. Reading about barrages of rockets and deadly air strikes, my thoughts go back a week when I spent two days in the West Bank. There are times in life when we must speak, and there are times when we must remain silent and listen to our fellow human beings. Even though I've spent almost four months listening (to teachers, students, children, adults, rabbis, myself etc.), I felt the listening I did during my two days in Bethlehem was different.
We began the program with a communication contract: we will listen respectfully, we will only ask questions that pertain to the expertise of the speaker...From the beginning, it was very clear that this experience would be about listening. We were about to hear personal narratives (and political narratives) from people we had only encountered through small words in newspapers and whispers brushed aside to avoid controversy and tension. I wanted to go to Bethlehem so I could begin an attempt to feel the situation, and not sit (literally) on the other side of a wall, fruitlessly trying to understand a massive and seemingly unresolvable conflict. My goal was to see a different way, not to change my mind.
We arrived in Bethlehem on a beautiful Thursday morning. Our first stop was to the Hope Flowers School, where Ibrahim Issa spoke to us about his personal story and the goals of the school. With the philosophy that "violence only yields more violence," Ibrahim's father (also named Ibrahim Issa) founded the Hope Flowers School on values of peace, democracy, and equality. His land confiscated, his home demolished, Ibrahim made a decision to focus on amal, hope. He wanted to raise a generation of Palestinians and Israelis who wanted to devote themselves to making peace. The school uses a "peace curriculum," to instill peaceful and democratic values in the students and the community.
Someone asked Ibrahim about his personal attitude toward the conflict and how he maintains hope. Ibrahim answered: "we are all one color; our color is humanity."
After our visit to the school, we took a brief driving tour of Bethlehem. We walked along the separation wall and saw graffiti left by internationals who had come to show solidarity or leave their mark on controversial landmark. "Freedom for Everyone." "Here is a wall at which to weep." "All kids deserve peace, safety, health, security, and life." "Justice is a collective effort, not a gift." Inspiring and angering slogans marked the walls, covered partially by advertisements for nearby restaurants, and great deals at the gas station across the street. It was bizarre to walk along the gray line I had seen from a distance, and see splashes of angry color.
We re-boarded the bus, drove past a 5 star hotel and refugee camps, and arrived at our home base for the trip, the Bethlehem Hotel. We heard from the Deputy Mayor of Bethlehem whose daughter was killed accidentally in an ambush by Israeli soldiers. He organized a group called "Bereaved Families" for families (Palestinians and Israelis, I believe) who had lost a loved one due to the conflict. "We are human beings like everyone else," he said. Faith, he emphasized, helps him through difficult times. He doesn't hate anyone, he believes in everyone's humanity and wants to work for justice and peace. While it was incredibly inspiring to hear him speak, we had to remember that he is one man, and was not speaking for his entire community. We had to remember this for every speaker we heard: left wing and right wing.
After several more eloquent and passionate speakers, we began a more informal part of the program. We played games to break tension and lighten the mood. After several silly games, we formed a circle. The group leaders would read a statement, and everyone who it applied to would step into the circle without speaking. Statements included: "I am wearing blue jeans," "I have family in Jordan," "I have family in Israel," "I need a permit to visit my family," "I am an only child" (no one stepped in for this), "I sometimes feel afraid when I hear Arabic," "I sometimes feel afraid when I hear Hebrew," etc. The game was eye opening and conversation sparking.
With our minds whirring, we headed to dinner at the Tent Restaurant where we ate Mujadra and met our host families for the evening. A delicious meal ended, and dancing began. 11 year old Agnes showed us some moves, and then two young men stepped in to perform two folk dances. We finally headed home with our host families.
"These are my daughters!" And so Saud welcomed us into her home, her family, and her Palestine. She patted my back and held my hand and made sure I had ample time to talk to her 17 year old grandson. As we drove home, teenage boys (her grandson's friends) jumped on the car, racing us home. Saud guided us to couches, where she introduced us to her entire family: fifteen people total. They sat with us on the couches (and on each other), taught us words, and talked about their daily lives. They value education, respect, family...Their generosity and hospitality was incredibly moving.
I left Palestine in a bizarre state. I didn't know if I was depressed or inspired. A beautiful and relaxing shabbat gave way to a busy week and I have not had time to reflect on these powerful days until now. I don't expect revleations, but I'm grateful for new insights.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Brain overload
I feel like my brain has reached capacity. I look at my notes and the words dance around the page almost as happily as Jews do on simchat Torah. Yet even as my brain aches and the שכל (knowledge/wisdom/intellect) pushes against the limits of my capacity to hold it, I thirst for more. About a year ago, I read a beautiful passage in an equally beautiful book. The next day, as we discussed the poetic language, I had a sudden desire to feel the words. I hoped that some sort of synesthesia would allow me to physically experience the power of the language that my brain was processing.
I feel this longing so profoundly, so often, that my brain is exhausted. I read Rav Kook, Heschel, Soleveitchik, and I feel a collection of energy inside me that is both excitement and an unfulfillable craving for a more physical and clear experience of these words and ideas.
How wonderful that I have an exhausted and overstimulated brain as opposed to a bored and frustrated one.
I promise there will be some exciting posts to come:
Stay tuned for:
Thoughts on Existence
Beit Lechem
Turkey
I feel this longing so profoundly, so often, that my brain is exhausted. I read Rav Kook, Heschel, Soleveitchik, and I feel a collection of energy inside me that is both excitement and an unfulfillable craving for a more physical and clear experience of these words and ideas.
How wonderful that I have an exhausted and overstimulated brain as opposed to a bored and frustrated one.
I promise there will be some exciting posts to come:
Stay tuned for:
Thoughts on Existence
Beit Lechem
Turkey
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Cultural Consciounsess
Last week, a very dynamic and well spoken Australian woman came to lead a workshop on cross-cultural interactions.
After shoving falafel into our mouths, we cleared the tables in the dining area to make room for a large circle of chairs. My first (subconscious) observation started when everyone sat down: deciding where to sit has always been a conscious and thought-out decision. I noticed this as I sat down in a chair that was pushed back a little, between two people who I did not know well.
We started with a game called, "As the Wind Blows," a criteria game:
"Everyone who has knit a hat!"
"Jewish women!"
"Everyone who likes snow!"
"Everyone who skis!"
"Everyone wearing jeans!"
As each statement was called, the people to whom it applied would jump up and frantically search for an open chair to sit in. After several rounds of this game, our facilitator called attention to the criteria we had invoked, and how each was indicative of how and where we grew up, and where we feel comfortable.
Throughout our activities, we talked a lot about judgment; how do we immediately judge people upon first impressions: friend or threat? We discussed the phenomenon in the context of being Anglos living in a balagan (crazy mess)(even using this word is a judgment...) of a Middle Eastern/Westernized culture. The facilitator divided the world into two kinds of cultures: warm climate cultures and coled climate cultures. As Anglos living in a warm-climate culture, we often notice (or feel uncomfortable with) the lack of a notion of personal space. To get on buses, no one waits in line; on buses, people smush together with no qualms; politeness or etiquitte seem to have little or no place in this culture (language implying judgment?); when having conversations, Israelis stand much closer than Americans do, etc. Our faciliator called attention to these things not to separate ourselves from Israelis, but to make us more conscious of our interactions. While we may feel bothered by a lack of respect for personal space, the people we interact with my feel disrespected by coldness or aloofness.
After shoving falafel into our mouths, we cleared the tables in the dining area to make room for a large circle of chairs. My first (subconscious) observation started when everyone sat down: deciding where to sit has always been a conscious and thought-out decision. I noticed this as I sat down in a chair that was pushed back a little, between two people who I did not know well.
We started with a game called, "As the Wind Blows," a criteria game:
"Everyone who has knit a hat!"
"Jewish women!"
"Everyone who likes snow!"
"Everyone who skis!"
"Everyone wearing jeans!"
As each statement was called, the people to whom it applied would jump up and frantically search for an open chair to sit in. After several rounds of this game, our facilitator called attention to the criteria we had invoked, and how each was indicative of how and where we grew up, and where we feel comfortable.
Throughout our activities, we talked a lot about judgment; how do we immediately judge people upon first impressions: friend or threat? We discussed the phenomenon in the context of being Anglos living in a balagan (crazy mess)(even using this word is a judgment...) of a Middle Eastern/Westernized culture. The facilitator divided the world into two kinds of cultures: warm climate cultures and coled climate cultures. As Anglos living in a warm-climate culture, we often notice (or feel uncomfortable with) the lack of a notion of personal space. To get on buses, no one waits in line; on buses, people smush together with no qualms; politeness or etiquitte seem to have little or no place in this culture (language implying judgment?); when having conversations, Israelis stand much closer than Americans do, etc. Our faciliator called attention to these things not to separate ourselves from Israelis, but to make us more conscious of our interactions. While we may feel bothered by a lack of respect for personal space, the people we interact with my feel disrespected by coldness or aloofness.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
The Negev November 25-27
The Negev is a place of beauty and desolation, grandeur and silence, death and life. Three days walking the ridges of a crater, the valleys of rock, and ancient sea beds turned abstract sculpture garden, gave me a welcomed joi-de-vivre. Hiking through this desolate and beautiful expanse made me feel so human and so connected to nature.
I apologize for not having posted for a while. My schedule has filled up like I fill my bowl with delicious soup. I haven't had time to focus on telling all of you what I am learning! I hope to find some time later this week and give a complete update.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
A constructive crisis
This week, I had a conversation that has put me back at the beginning of a religious and spiritual journey that I began many years ago. A discussion with a feminist, non-egalitarian Jew just isn't so common for me.
This conversation blew my mind because it forced to me examine my core values. I know that I am a feminist, egalitarian, an observant Jew, and a humanist. Reconciling conflicts between ideals is incredibly difficult because these conflicts manifest themselves in my daily life. Do I want to pray everyday? I feel a sense of religious obligation, but how do I observe this in a meaningful way? The discussion earlier this week made me feel that I need to make a conscious decision to live based on a solid, core belief.
Judaism and its traditions are INCREDIBLY important to me, but when they conflict with values that I hold just as close (ie egalitarianism) I feel that I can’t change my secular values to fit a lifestyle that was constructed by human beings centuries ago. I believe that I don't need to.
Earlier this year, I decided that the existence of G-d or one Truth is irrelevant and that my life is all about my community and what I perceive as righteous and good, and for me, that is Judaism. Be’emet, lo tov hayot adam lvado. Davening in a crowded synagogue is so much more meaningful to me than davening by myself in a cold (literally and spiritually) room in my apartment.
The only time I start to question this stance is when I read things by Heschel, or Kook, or Soleveitchik and I realize how much I identify with this longing to be a part of G-d. We read this passage by Rav Kook (called “The Need for Prayer”) in class yesterday: “All beings long for the very source of their origin. Every plant, every grain of sand, every lump of earth, small creatures and big ones, the heavens above and the angels, every substance together with its particles—all of them are longing, yearning, panting to attain the state of holy perfection. Man suffers all the time from this homesickness of the soul and it is in prayer that he cures it. When praying, man feels at one with the whole creation and he raises it to the very source of blessing and life.” Maybe its just that I am so touched by such beautiful images and language, but there is a part of me that identifies with this feeling, especially now that I live every day now in a very Jewish context (Hebrew, studying Tanach…etc.)
On that note, shavua tov.
This conversation blew my mind because it forced to me examine my core values. I know that I am a feminist, egalitarian, an observant Jew, and a humanist. Reconciling conflicts between ideals is incredibly difficult because these conflicts manifest themselves in my daily life. Do I want to pray everyday? I feel a sense of religious obligation, but how do I observe this in a meaningful way? The discussion earlier this week made me feel that I need to make a conscious decision to live based on a solid, core belief.
Judaism and its traditions are INCREDIBLY important to me, but when they conflict with values that I hold just as close (ie egalitarianism) I feel that I can’t change my secular values to fit a lifestyle that was constructed by human beings centuries ago. I believe that I don't need to.
Earlier this year, I decided that the existence of G-d or one Truth is irrelevant and that my life is all about my community and what I perceive as righteous and good, and for me, that is Judaism. Be’emet, lo tov hayot adam lvado. Davening in a crowded synagogue is so much more meaningful to me than davening by myself in a cold (literally and spiritually) room in my apartment.
The only time I start to question this stance is when I read things by Heschel, or Kook, or Soleveitchik and I realize how much I identify with this longing to be a part of G-d. We read this passage by Rav Kook (called “The Need for Prayer”) in class yesterday: “All beings long for the very source of their origin. Every plant, every grain of sand, every lump of earth, small creatures and big ones, the heavens above and the angels, every substance together with its particles—all of them are longing, yearning, panting to attain the state of holy perfection. Man suffers all the time from this homesickness of the soul and it is in prayer that he cures it. When praying, man feels at one with the whole creation and he raises it to the very source of blessing and life.” Maybe its just that I am so touched by such beautiful images and language, but there is a part of me that identifies with this feeling, especially now that I live every day now in a very Jewish context (Hebrew, studying Tanach…etc.)
On that note, shavua tov.
Assembling, Generally
This week, I attended the UJC General Assembly. (See program here: http://www.ujc.org/page.aspx?id=175943)
We began the week with the "NextGen" day, sponsored by the Samuel Bronfman Foundation. Festivities opened at Yad Vashem, the national Holocaust memorial museum. If this sounds weird to you, believe me, it felt weird. Speakers emphasized that this "new" generation gains knowledge and responsibility from our roots. Over 800 young people ranging from university students in Israel to teenagers on gap-years gathered to inspire an older generation. Throughout the week, young people mingled with the generation that came before us. The message seemed to be: you are the inspiration, they are the money. A day-long bus tour of Social Justice opportunties in Israel turned out to be a 10 hour Masa promotion, complete with Masa participants, and Masa funders. (Not all was lost that day; we visited an ecological farm where the farmers live in domes and work the fields, living on what they grow. I will definitely be going back to visit.)
The highlight of the week (by far) was a lecture/conversation led my Gidi Grinstein and Gadi Taub. In this session (titled "Israel Today"), we discussed zionism in the 21st century. Gidi eloquently described Zionism as a balancing act: strength comes from felixibility. He divided the Zionist agenda into three parts: national security, Jewishness of the state of Israel, and social and and economic development. Israel is, in fact, a state for all its citizens, and every day it works toward peace. (Interestingly, after this bold statement, he then drew lines. Israel, inside the '67 borders, is a Jewish democratic state. Venturing beyond those borders, one arrives in a militarily ruled area populated by disenfranchised people). Gadi discussed the wellbeing of the Jewish people, arguing that Israel is necessary to combat negativity toward nations-without-a-homeland. He stated firmly that Israel can be (and is) a democratic, Jewish state. Both discussed the role of world Jewry in the Zionist agenda, saying that our primary goal was to dismantle the double standard that torments Israel. "A vibrant diaspora is a Jewish imperitive," they said. It was refreshing to hear these words coming from Israelis. So many meetings begin with "who are you where do you live when are you making aliyah?" that a sense of guilt has begun to permeate my being. At this point in my life, I don't want to make aliyah, I value the diaspora, and I have found such love and support in American Jewish communities that I feel that moving to Israel would be a vote of no confidence.
Every day, I interact with a wide range of people. I go from volunteering at a school for Jews and Arabs, to a yeshiva full of Americans, to an afterschool program for 11 year old Israelis. Every transition between worlds catches me off guard. I am constantly reminded of my comfort zones, my age, my gender, my nationality, my native language, my religion, and my desire to find a purpose and unified goal.
We began the week with the "NextGen" day, sponsored by the Samuel Bronfman Foundation. Festivities opened at Yad Vashem, the national Holocaust memorial museum. If this sounds weird to you, believe me, it felt weird. Speakers emphasized that this "new" generation gains knowledge and responsibility from our roots. Over 800 young people ranging from university students in Israel to teenagers on gap-years gathered to inspire an older generation. Throughout the week, young people mingled with the generation that came before us. The message seemed to be: you are the inspiration, they are the money. A day-long bus tour of Social Justice opportunties in Israel turned out to be a 10 hour Masa promotion, complete with Masa participants, and Masa funders. (Not all was lost that day; we visited an ecological farm where the farmers live in domes and work the fields, living on what they grow. I will definitely be going back to visit.)
The highlight of the week (by far) was a lecture/conversation led my Gidi Grinstein and Gadi Taub. In this session (titled "Israel Today"), we discussed zionism in the 21st century. Gidi eloquently described Zionism as a balancing act: strength comes from felixibility. He divided the Zionist agenda into three parts: national security, Jewishness of the state of Israel, and social and and economic development. Israel is, in fact, a state for all its citizens, and every day it works toward peace. (Interestingly, after this bold statement, he then drew lines. Israel, inside the '67 borders, is a Jewish democratic state. Venturing beyond those borders, one arrives in a militarily ruled area populated by disenfranchised people). Gadi discussed the wellbeing of the Jewish people, arguing that Israel is necessary to combat negativity toward nations-without-a-homeland. He stated firmly that Israel can be (and is) a democratic, Jewish state. Both discussed the role of world Jewry in the Zionist agenda, saying that our primary goal was to dismantle the double standard that torments Israel. "A vibrant diaspora is a Jewish imperitive," they said. It was refreshing to hear these words coming from Israelis. So many meetings begin with "who are you where do you live when are you making aliyah?" that a sense of guilt has begun to permeate my being. At this point in my life, I don't want to make aliyah, I value the diaspora, and I have found such love and support in American Jewish communities that I feel that moving to Israel would be a vote of no confidence.
Every day, I interact with a wide range of people. I go from volunteering at a school for Jews and Arabs, to a yeshiva full of Americans, to an afterschool program for 11 year old Israelis. Every transition between worlds catches me off guard. I am constantly reminded of my comfort zones, my age, my gender, my nationality, my native language, my religion, and my desire to find a purpose and unified goal.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Yitzchak Rabin
Yitzchak Rabin was murdered 13 years ago. This national hero has become a national symbol. "Peace." "Peace Now." At the memorial (Tel Aviv, November 9, 2008) that was really more like a rally than anything, politicians spoke, singers performed, and thousands of young people packed close into a square named after a murdered hero. I have mixed feelings. First, I have never seen such a huge rally focused on peace. The whole crowd sang shir l'shalom, jumping, dancing, clapping...But there was a sense of insincerity. As I listened to Tzipi Livni elegantly speak about a peaceful Israel, teenagers all around me joked with their friends, pushed each other around, and giggled. On the other hand, everyone participated in the rally: they SANG Hatkiva.
When Avigal's mechina spoke about it afterwards, they seemed more frustrated than moved. "It was just a political rally! People were chanting silly empty phrases, and American kids were jumping around...Where was the meaning? People spoke about Rabin and what a good man he was and how nice it is that we all came to the rally, but no one spoke about the meaning of this day. What is the significance??"
As I sang Hatikva, I was distracted. I had always sang Hatkiva and felt moved to be a part of this country, its culture, its future... But as I said it this time, I questioned my connection to Israel. Spending significant time here, I feel more separate from this country that I have before. I don't feel comfortable (at least now) with the possibility of making Aliyah. My soul is with these people as a whole, but sadly, not with the land, not with the modern culture. It is my hope that all Jews have a safe place to live, but I fail, unfortunately, to see the holiness of this land. As I had this realization, I felt some sadness.
When Avigal's mechina spoke about it afterwards, they seemed more frustrated than moved. "It was just a political rally! People were chanting silly empty phrases, and American kids were jumping around...Where was the meaning? People spoke about Rabin and what a good man he was and how nice it is that we all came to the rally, but no one spoke about the meaning of this day. What is the significance??"
As I sang Hatikva, I was distracted. I had always sang Hatkiva and felt moved to be a part of this country, its culture, its future... But as I said it this time, I questioned my connection to Israel. Spending significant time here, I feel more separate from this country that I have before. I don't feel comfortable (at least now) with the possibility of making Aliyah. My soul is with these people as a whole, but sadly, not with the land, not with the modern culture. It is my hope that all Jews have a safe place to live, but I fail, unfortunately, to see the holiness of this land. As I had this realization, I felt some sadness.
Pontificating
At this point, I think the world is tired of hearing about how proud many Americans are about having elected Barack Obama. However, I feel that I have not adequately expressed my feelings, so I shall. The following are selections from my journal entries over the past week.
The United States of America has elected a black man to be their President. I have pride in my country stronger than I have ever felt before. Obama has inspired and motivated masses of people to care about their country, their futures, and their world. Inspiration. With this new face comes a new attitude. Frustration, anger, and lack of respect has turned into pride, inspiration, activism, and I daresay respect for a government that has gained only scorn for the past 8 years. Obama said in a speech that would even make Toby proud, "this victory alone is not the change we seek." This warning is key. We stand at the beginning of a long and possibly perilous era. We have not changed the world merely by electing Obama, but we have given ourselves the opportunity to. I am so proud to be an American. I really wish I could be with my country to celebrate this historic moment...
...At times I feel a bit "lost" in the poetic sense. An Israeli asked me what I was doing this year. I told him that I was volunteering in elementary schools and a non-profit, and learning at a Jewish organization. He said, "Oh! I understand, שרות לאומי (national service)." That is what I am doing, but at times, I feel like I am doing national service in a country that does not belong to me. Who am I to try to shape a small part of the national future? I don't fully understand the politics, the situations, and the emotions that are entrenched in this country and its culture. I feel constantly like an outsider. These feelings are even more difficult for me because they are connected with regret. I feel like I am obligated to be a part of this nation, and through this connection, I have a responsibility to Israel. I regret that I am unable to fully connect with Israeli culture and people-hood. On the other hand, I would not feel so strongly about this matter if I did not have some desire to be a part of it. It is, I feel, a timeless struggle.
...Back to Obama
"We done overcame."
Even days after the election, I still feel shivers and an excited warmth in my heart. THis triumph belongs to so many people, to so much time and dedication, I find it hard to believe that life continues as usual. It is easy for us to forget that we live in the midst of multiple crises. My excitement and joy comes from the fact that Obama has empowered a people. He has instilled a feeling and culture of activism that can not and will not die. The government is for our people, for the people of the US. We have a terrifyingly long way to go: fix health care, grant gays civil rights, allow all children to be educated...but we have put a man in the White House who understands the gravity of the situation and the difficulty of the years ahead. I am inspired because we are uniting. For the first time in a long while, people are excited about politics and about the prospect of a better future. Change comes when despair is replaced with hope. That, so far, is Obama's greatest accomplishment.
Shira Chadasha
An unusual but powerful feeling of joy enveloped the sancutary at Shira Chadasha. The energy was high, niguns went twice as long, and people's faces were lit up with an elation I had not seen at a regular Friday night service. I could hardly contain myself as we sang ana bkoach, thinking that I have such a concrete thing to pray for: strength for the repairing of our world. I'm still amazed that an election can cause so much excitement. Many people I've seen are still cynical and mock Obama's "yes we can," and his optimism. They don't understand that we aren't just changing national politics, we are changing the national culture. That, to me, is the energy that will sustain us through the next years. I am so proud to be a part of this generation.
At Friday night dinner this past week, I heard a midrash that is relevant to my life. Pliya's father discussed the parsha, lech lcha, and the reason G-d spoke to Abraham and told him to leave his home. Abraham, he said, is like a bottle of perfume. When the bottle is stationary and closed, no one can smell the beauty within. But when the bottle moves around, the particles of perfume spread around, mingling with the air, bringing something beautiful. I hope to be like Abraham. Moving around, I spread my knowledge, awareness, and hope. I wish that my time in Israel benefits more than just one person.
The United States of America has elected a black man to be their President. I have pride in my country stronger than I have ever felt before. Obama has inspired and motivated masses of people to care about their country, their futures, and their world. Inspiration. With this new face comes a new attitude. Frustration, anger, and lack of respect has turned into pride, inspiration, activism, and I daresay respect for a government that has gained only scorn for the past 8 years. Obama said in a speech that would even make Toby proud, "this victory alone is not the change we seek." This warning is key. We stand at the beginning of a long and possibly perilous era. We have not changed the world merely by electing Obama, but we have given ourselves the opportunity to. I am so proud to be an American. I really wish I could be with my country to celebrate this historic moment...
...At times I feel a bit "lost" in the poetic sense. An Israeli asked me what I was doing this year. I told him that I was volunteering in elementary schools and a non-profit, and learning at a Jewish organization. He said, "Oh! I understand, שרות לאומי (national service)." That is what I am doing, but at times, I feel like I am doing national service in a country that does not belong to me. Who am I to try to shape a small part of the national future? I don't fully understand the politics, the situations, and the emotions that are entrenched in this country and its culture. I feel constantly like an outsider. These feelings are even more difficult for me because they are connected with regret. I feel like I am obligated to be a part of this nation, and through this connection, I have a responsibility to Israel. I regret that I am unable to fully connect with Israeli culture and people-hood. On the other hand, I would not feel so strongly about this matter if I did not have some desire to be a part of it. It is, I feel, a timeless struggle.
...Back to Obama
"We done overcame."
Even days after the election, I still feel shivers and an excited warmth in my heart. THis triumph belongs to so many people, to so much time and dedication, I find it hard to believe that life continues as usual. It is easy for us to forget that we live in the midst of multiple crises. My excitement and joy comes from the fact that Obama has empowered a people. He has instilled a feeling and culture of activism that can not and will not die. The government is for our people, for the people of the US. We have a terrifyingly long way to go: fix health care, grant gays civil rights, allow all children to be educated...but we have put a man in the White House who understands the gravity of the situation and the difficulty of the years ahead. I am inspired because we are uniting. For the first time in a long while, people are excited about politics and about the prospect of a better future. Change comes when despair is replaced with hope. That, so far, is Obama's greatest accomplishment.
Shira Chadasha
An unusual but powerful feeling of joy enveloped the sancutary at Shira Chadasha. The energy was high, niguns went twice as long, and people's faces were lit up with an elation I had not seen at a regular Friday night service. I could hardly contain myself as we sang ana bkoach, thinking that I have such a concrete thing to pray for: strength for the repairing of our world. I'm still amazed that an election can cause so much excitement. Many people I've seen are still cynical and mock Obama's "yes we can," and his optimism. They don't understand that we aren't just changing national politics, we are changing the national culture. That, to me, is the energy that will sustain us through the next years. I am so proud to be a part of this generation.
At Friday night dinner this past week, I heard a midrash that is relevant to my life. Pliya's father discussed the parsha, lech lcha, and the reason G-d spoke to Abraham and told him to leave his home. Abraham, he said, is like a bottle of perfume. When the bottle is stationary and closed, no one can smell the beauty within. But when the bottle moves around, the particles of perfume spread around, mingling with the air, bringing something beautiful. I hope to be like Abraham. Moving around, I spread my knowledge, awareness, and hope. I wish that my time in Israel benefits more than just one person.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Night
I'm watching Fox news, which is unfortunate. Sadly, it is the only new station available to us right now. Exit polls are starting to come out, and we are excited.
Apparently 21-23% of people will be "scared" if Obama wins. Wisdom from Fox.
Apparently 21-23% of people will be "scared" if Obama wins. Wisdom from Fox.
Creation!
Chumash class Monday, November 3
Differences between Perek (chapter) 1 and 2
Chapter 1
G-d/cosmos centered
Creation by fiat
Generic characters
Chronological-
Literally and in reality (connected to theme)
G-d is “outside” (distant)
Structured procreation
Anthropomorphic G-d
Man has domination in Eden
Creating life
Chapter 2
Man/Earth centered
Hands-on creation
Characters particularized
Jumps around (more chaotic world)
G-d is responsive
Gender!
Interaction is more dynamic
Man has responsibilities and limitations
Death (contrast to life creation)
Eden מקדם
-Eden in the east? East in the garden of Eden?
-עדנה- used in context of Sarah having Yitzchak at 90 years old: she will become
refreshed (also related to word for enjoyment)
-Related to waters in Eden: source of water and life
Water plays an important role in this perek. Water existed before "Creation" and plays an integral role in the creation of everything else to come after it. According to Rashi, everything was created on the first day in potential. The seeds and potential of everything existed, but the world lacked rain. The cycle of life and nature as we know it could not start without rain, and the rain would not come until Man was created. Man is necessary for the tilling and caring of the soil: to start the cycle without man would be dangerous.
There are two types of water in this perek. There is the water that wells up from the ground אד and the water that falls from the sky מטיר. According to Rashi, the water in the ground came up to water the dust of the earth so that G-d could mold man from the clay.* After this creation, Man could pray for rain, and it would fall, nourishing the soil. According to Ramban, the water under the ground existed to sustain the potential plants until man could be created because until Man was created, no rain would fall.
Before the rain and Man, land was called aretz ארץ; after these two catalysts, the land becomes adama אדמה, which comes from the same root as the name for man, adam אדם. (Interestingly, once woman is created, Man becomes איש, as there is now an אישה.) In the same way that the land changes name, the water that sustains it changes its name/essence, going from אד to מטיר.
Water catalyzes and determines the essence of all things.
I wish I could go into everything we discuss, but putting a 3.25 hour course into a blog is tough.
*This is one example of the extensive anthropomorphizing that happens in this chapter. The word that is used for G-d's "forming" is יצר, which is the word for sculpting. צור, meaning "rock," is a name for G-d: "צור העולמים'', Rock of the Worlds.
Differences between Perek (chapter) 1 and 2
Chapter 1
G-d/cosmos centered
Creation by fiat
Generic characters
Chronological-
Literally and in reality (connected to theme)
G-d is “outside” (distant)
Structured procreation
Anthropomorphic G-d
Man has domination in Eden
Creating life
Chapter 2
Man/Earth centered
Hands-on creation
Characters particularized
Jumps around (more chaotic world)
G-d is responsive
Gender!
Interaction is more dynamic
Man has responsibilities and limitations
Death (contrast to life creation)
Eden מקדם
-Eden in the east? East in the garden of Eden?
-עדנה- used in context of Sarah having Yitzchak at 90 years old: she will become
refreshed (also related to word for enjoyment)
-Related to waters in Eden: source of water and life
Water plays an important role in this perek. Water existed before "Creation" and plays an integral role in the creation of everything else to come after it. According to Rashi, everything was created on the first day in potential. The seeds and potential of everything existed, but the world lacked rain. The cycle of life and nature as we know it could not start without rain, and the rain would not come until Man was created. Man is necessary for the tilling and caring of the soil: to start the cycle without man would be dangerous.
There are two types of water in this perek. There is the water that wells up from the ground אד and the water that falls from the sky מטיר. According to Rashi, the water in the ground came up to water the dust of the earth so that G-d could mold man from the clay.* After this creation, Man could pray for rain, and it would fall, nourishing the soil. According to Ramban, the water under the ground existed to sustain the potential plants until man could be created because until Man was created, no rain would fall.
Before the rain and Man, land was called aretz ארץ; after these two catalysts, the land becomes adama אדמה, which comes from the same root as the name for man, adam אדם. (Interestingly, once woman is created, Man becomes איש, as there is now an אישה.) In the same way that the land changes name, the water that sustains it changes its name/essence, going from אד to מטיר.
Water catalyzes and determines the essence of all things.
I wish I could go into everything we discuss, but putting a 3.25 hour course into a blog is tough.
*This is one example of the extensive anthropomorphizing that happens in this chapter. The word that is used for G-d's "forming" is יצר, which is the word for sculpting. צור, meaning "rock," is a name for G-d: "צור העולמים'', Rock of the Worlds.
More meetings
I met with Moshe at Cafe Cafe on Emek Refaim after a phone conversation in Hebrew that ended in a dead battery. I surprised myself. Even though I am devoting this year to combating discrimination and stereotypes, I found myself judging Moshe. He is a very intelligent man, earning his degree at Hebrew University in psychology. I figured that someone with such an education would have pretty solid English. Moshe worked through our conversation, occasionally switching back into Hebrew for a full sentence or two. I could understand him perfectly well, but I was surprised at how surprised I was that he didn't speak fluently.
We discussed the program with Moshe, and Elyssa and I will begin next week volunteering after school from 2:00-5:00 with a group of 5th and 6th graders.
We discussed the program with Moshe, and Elyssa and I will begin next week volunteering after school from 2:00-5:00 with a group of 5th and 6th graders.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Class Discussion
I am going to make a conscious effort to make this blog a place for me to post what I've learned from day to day, whether it be about chumash, or about disciplining 6 year olds.
In this past week, I have been inspired and discouraged, excited and scared, in control and out of control, elated and sad.
My work at Yad Byad is unlike anything I have ever done. Not many people will ever have such an appreciation for the wonders of the human mind as seen through the context of a child's brain. I slowly gain confidence with Hebrew andthese children learn in Arabic and Hebrew; they translate for each other, play with each other, argue with each other, steal each others erasers, work very hard, daydream, scream, cry, laugh... I don't think I would be in such awe of the people who work and learn there if I didn't feel so out of my element. (note: I get to sit in the teachers room; sweet.)
Passing from this zone of newness to the comfort zone of Pardes, I feel like I'm recharging my confidence battery. I continue to be surprised with the inspiration that fills me (and I daresay everyone else) when we learn there. Today, we met Eliezer Jaffe. The founder of the Israel Free Loan Association, he had much to say about poverty, social justice, charity, loans, and economics in Israel. He started an organization that now gives about 350 loans a month with a 1% default rate. These loans are interest free and the organization is therefore a non-profit. It was incredibly inspiring to hear about the successes of a moral loan-giving organization that is also based in Jewish halacha. Professor Jaffe says: "Life is a loan. We pay it back, with interest, throughout our lives with מעשימם טובים, good deeds." I have much more to add about charity and giving, I'll keep you posted.
Tomorrow I have a meeting about volunteering with an afterschool program for 5th and 6th graders. I'm pushing my way farther into the world of business and full schedules!
In this past week, I have been inspired and discouraged, excited and scared, in control and out of control, elated and sad.
My work at Yad Byad is unlike anything I have ever done. Not many people will ever have such an appreciation for the wonders of the human mind as seen through the context of a child's brain. I slowly gain confidence with Hebrew andthese children learn in Arabic and Hebrew; they translate for each other, play with each other, argue with each other, steal each others erasers, work very hard, daydream, scream, cry, laugh... I don't think I would be in such awe of the people who work and learn there if I didn't feel so out of my element. (note: I get to sit in the teachers room; sweet.)
Passing from this zone of newness to the comfort zone of Pardes, I feel like I'm recharging my confidence battery. I continue to be surprised with the inspiration that fills me (and I daresay everyone else) when we learn there. Today, we met Eliezer Jaffe. The founder of the Israel Free Loan Association, he had much to say about poverty, social justice, charity, loans, and economics in Israel. He started an organization that now gives about 350 loans a month with a 1% default rate. These loans are interest free and the organization is therefore a non-profit. It was incredibly inspiring to hear about the successes of a moral loan-giving organization that is also based in Jewish halacha. Professor Jaffe says: "Life is a loan. We pay it back, with interest, throughout our lives with מעשימם טובים, good deeds." I have much more to add about charity and giving, I'll keep you posted.
Tomorrow I have a meeting about volunteering with an afterschool program for 5th and 6th graders. I'm pushing my way farther into the world of business and full schedules!
Solid Schedule?
I've completed my first week with the outline of my weekly schedule. It is as follows:
Sunday:
Yad Byad 8:15- 1
Pardes (Social Justice): 2:00-5
Monday:
Pardes (Chumash): 8:30-11:45
Pardes (Modern Jewish Thought): 12:00-1:00
JVP (afterschool programming): 2:30 -5
Tuesday:
Yad Byad 8:15-(undetermined)
Open House 12:00-4:00
Wednesday
Pardes (Chumash): 8:30-11:45
Pardes (Modern Jewish Thought): 12:00-1:00
JVP (afterschool programming): 2:30 -5
Thursday:
Yad Byad 8:15- 1
Pardes (Social Justice): 2:00-5
Friday:
travel and/or cook for shabbat
Saturday:
Best day of the week. By far. Shabbat Shalom.
Sunday:
Yad Byad 8:15- 1
Pardes (Social Justice): 2:00-5
Monday:
Pardes (Chumash): 8:30-11:45
Pardes (Modern Jewish Thought): 12:00-1:00
JVP (afterschool programming): 2:30 -5
Tuesday:
Yad Byad 8:15-(undetermined)
Open House 12:00-4:00
Wednesday
Pardes (Chumash): 8:30-11:45
Pardes (Modern Jewish Thought): 12:00-1:00
JVP (afterschool programming): 2:30 -5
Thursday:
Yad Byad 8:15- 1
Pardes (Social Justice): 2:00-5
Friday:
travel and/or cook for shabbat
Saturday:
Best day of the week. By far. Shabbat Shalom.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Pardes continued
I have much less time than I've had so far to write in my blog, but there is something about productivity, or just activity that makes me really want to keep working.
I'm in Chumash (bible) level 4. I was a bit terrified as I walked in because I've spent the past two months putting myself into situations where I'm over my head. Even though I haven't studied Chumash in a classroom setting since 8th grade, I began to feel more comfortable as I sat down and surveyed the classroom: Two other people with noserings, two other people wearing colorful scarves, two older women, one woman wearing bright green, one woman with granola, a guy wearing Hot Chilis....
Baruch, my teacher, began class. We were to study the end of the second chapter of Breishit (Genesis) and begin the second chapter. I was pretty happy that the parsha we happened to be studying just happened to by my bat mitzvah parsha. We studied in chevruta for and hour and a half. My chevruta, Kelly, and I worked through extensive Rashi and Rambam (without English translations!!!) to delve into the story of creation. Who did G-d consult with? Why does G-d say נעשה? Man was created in partnership: G-d combined with the Earth to create this being called Man. On the first days, the world was created in potential; in the following days, everything comes forth from this base. The Earth brought forth the grass and animals, etc.
We also discussed the world "צלם" and its meanings. It is written that we were written in the image of G-d or בצלם אלוקים. We have taken this and flipped it, using "corporealization" (the teacher actually said this word) and have tried to give G-d structure and outline. Our human intelligence is the צל, or shadow, of G-d's essence. People are like G-d in an essential way.
Modern Jewish Thought blew my mind. We read Rosenzweig's "Star of Redemption" and discussed the relationship between G-d, people, and the world. As is typical to philosophy, if I were to begin to explain one part of what we learned, I would have to describe the entire conversation and every idea. I'll do it at some point...but not on a school night.
I'm in Chumash (bible) level 4. I was a bit terrified as I walked in because I've spent the past two months putting myself into situations where I'm over my head. Even though I haven't studied Chumash in a classroom setting since 8th grade, I began to feel more comfortable as I sat down and surveyed the classroom: Two other people with noserings, two other people wearing colorful scarves, two older women, one woman wearing bright green, one woman with granola, a guy wearing Hot Chilis....
Baruch, my teacher, began class. We were to study the end of the second chapter of Breishit (Genesis) and begin the second chapter. I was pretty happy that the parsha we happened to be studying just happened to by my bat mitzvah parsha. We studied in chevruta for and hour and a half. My chevruta, Kelly, and I worked through extensive Rashi and Rambam (without English translations!!!) to delve into the story of creation. Who did G-d consult with? Why does G-d say נעשה? Man was created in partnership: G-d combined with the Earth to create this being called Man. On the first days, the world was created in potential; in the following days, everything comes forth from this base. The Earth brought forth the grass and animals, etc.
We also discussed the world "צלם" and its meanings. It is written that we were written in the image of G-d or בצלם אלוקים. We have taken this and flipped it, using "corporealization" (the teacher actually said this word) and have tried to give G-d structure and outline. Our human intelligence is the צל, or shadow, of G-d's essence. People are like G-d in an essential way.
Modern Jewish Thought blew my mind. We read Rosenzweig's "Star of Redemption" and discussed the relationship between G-d, people, and the world. As is typical to philosophy, if I were to begin to explain one part of what we learned, I would have to describe the entire conversation and every idea. I'll do it at some point...but not on a school night.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Pardes
Pardes is a wonderful, wonderful place. The people are welcoming, intelligent, and open minded. There is an element of comfort I have found there that I have yet to find in a more "Israeli" environment. It may be the language barrier, but I think it is more closely tied to the culture. Within minutes or walking into the building, people were introducing themselves to me, striking conversation, and taking an interest in what I am doing with my life.
My first class was Social Justice. We discussed the Maimonidean ladder of Tzedaka and the concept of humility and dignity within the process of giving tzedaka. The governing principles of the Maimonidean ladder are anonymity, empowerment, and maintaining dignity. Feeling good about doing a mitzva is merely the "cherry on the mitzvah sundae," and is not the essence or even the goal of mitzvot. We talked about these ideas in terms of public policy (eg the "Wisconsin Plan," "hand up, not hand out," etc.)
After this discussion, the founder of an organization called "Yedid" came in to talk to us (http://www.yedid.org.il/default.en.asp). It is an amazing organization that advocates for the poor in Israel. They are lobbyists, indivual assistants, and community organizers. Their original goal was to help the massive numbers of new immigrants from the FSU, but they have vastly expanded. They sought to "teach values of democracy and pluralism to low income people but found that these people end up teaching much more." The organization "makes people beleive that they can change something in their lives." They have had really incredible successes. The woman who spoke to us made Aliya a while ago and started this organization. It was really very inspiring.
Today, I had chumash and modern Jewish thought. I will elaborate more later.
My first class was Social Justice. We discussed the Maimonidean ladder of Tzedaka and the concept of humility and dignity within the process of giving tzedaka. The governing principles of the Maimonidean ladder are anonymity, empowerment, and maintaining dignity. Feeling good about doing a mitzva is merely the "cherry on the mitzvah sundae," and is not the essence or even the goal of mitzvot. We talked about these ideas in terms of public policy (eg the "Wisconsin Plan," "hand up, not hand out," etc.)
After this discussion, the founder of an organization called "Yedid" came in to talk to us (http://www.yedid.org.il/default.en.asp). It is an amazing organization that advocates for the poor in Israel. They are lobbyists, indivual assistants, and community organizers. Their original goal was to help the massive numbers of new immigrants from the FSU, but they have vastly expanded. They sought to "teach values of democracy and pluralism to low income people but found that these people end up teaching much more." The organization "makes people beleive that they can change something in their lives." They have had really incredible successes. The woman who spoke to us made Aliya a while ago and started this organization. It was really very inspiring.
Today, I had chumash and modern Jewish thought. I will elaborate more later.
Craaaaaaaaaaazy Day
The holidays had mamash postponed the beginning of anything resembling regularity. It began this week. Sunday morning I worked my way down to Patt, a neighborhood in the South of Jerusalem. I walked into Yad Byad (handinhandk12.org) and waited for Shachar (the volunteer coordinater) to arrive. I watched children run around freely playing tag, interacting with each other, with teachers, with parents...I really tried to figure out who was Jewish and who was Arab and I found that unless I heard them speaking, it was hard to tell. I soon learned that even this cue could be misleading. I spent 4 hours in a first grade classroom. The kids learned basic math, Hebrew, and Arabic. I sat with two girls at the edge of the classroom. Both girls were Jewish. As they did their work, they occasionally switched into Arabic. When I heard them switch, I looked up to see if any of the Arab kids (the tables were mixed, this table only had two kids...both of them just happened to be Jewish) had walked over, but they hadn't. With a few exceptions, most kids in the class fully understood (if not spoke) both Hebrew and Arabic. FIRST graders. I was so impressed. I think this school is doing wonderful work. At the very least, they are producing progressive minded bilingual citizens. The teachers are dedicated and patient. Rinat, the teacher I am working with, discussed the school with me:
"This school is different from any other school. When we have bad behavior, we are patient. They punish. We have to have a lot of patience here and we have to be gentle and encouraging." The kids WANT to do well. There was not a single kid who did not try to participate in class. In fact, the teachers had to remind the kids not to call out in class...there was that much enthusiasm!
It is difficult not being able to speak Hebrew fluently. I can understand the kids when they talk to me, but my responses are limited. I'm hoping that my Hebrew will improve, and with it, my confidence.
"This school is different from any other school. When we have bad behavior, we are patient. They punish. We have to have a lot of patience here and we have to be gentle and encouraging." The kids WANT to do well. There was not a single kid who did not try to participate in class. In fact, the teachers had to remind the kids not to call out in class...there was that much enthusiasm!
It is difficult not being able to speak Hebrew fluently. I can understand the kids when they talk to me, but my responses are limited. I'm hoping that my Hebrew will improve, and with it, my confidence.
Simchas toira
There is something to be said for a holiday whose name begins with "happiness." I danced my calves sore and sang my vocal chords dry and absorbed and emitted ruach. I was surrounded by people of two communities: one that I have left, and one that I hope to join. I suppose it was an appropriate environment for a holiday when we close on chapter and open with another. I felt my whole body smiling as I experienced (and witnessed others experience) such simple yet layered joy. The chagim have forced me to think about my core values. I know that I am egalitarian through and through. While I can appreciate a community of women within the broader Jewish community, being entirely separated from the rest of the community is distracting, bothersome, and demeaning. I still daven in synagogues with mechitzas and I still feel connected to the Jews in those synagogues, but this is not the community where I am fully accepted. I can lead services, read Torah, and fully engage in a Jewish community. And I want to. I can still experience other shuls for the experience and for personal exploration, but I think it's ok if I find a community that is comfortable for me in a country where nothing is necessarily comfortable.
Philosophical musing
Inspired from many-a-question and many-an-awesome-shiur:
Infinity is complicated. We can describe it, but by doing so, we remove the unending indescribable essence of what we sought to understand. There are different kinds of infinity. A line is infinite in its own kind, but a plane is even more infinite. G-d is all kind of infinity. Unending and indescribable, G-d is infinite hope, love, power, existence, etc. G-d is everything כל. As Spinoza says, G-d is in everything, but G-d also transcends everything. As humans, we are limited in what we can understand. What Heschel calls “radical amazement” is our glimpse into G-d’s infinite nature. We are all Talmidei Chachamim: we are all searching for some kind of meaning or engaging in some element of epistemology. The desire and search for G-d is an infinite and impossible pursuit of peace. Truth and peace, two elements of G-d that we desire are beyond our understanding but are intrinsically part of us. Our partnership with G-d opens up the possibility of the infinite within us. Belief transcends the physical. This is the infinite human trait. G-d and humanity are united through belief and peace. Rav Kook says that the blessing of peace unites all opposites. There is peace in the unification and fusion of the infinite and the finite.
Infinity is complicated. We can describe it, but by doing so, we remove the unending indescribable essence of what we sought to understand. There are different kinds of infinity. A line is infinite in its own kind, but a plane is even more infinite. G-d is all kind of infinity. Unending and indescribable, G-d is infinite hope, love, power, existence, etc. G-d is everything כל. As Spinoza says, G-d is in everything, but G-d also transcends everything. As humans, we are limited in what we can understand. What Heschel calls “radical amazement” is our glimpse into G-d’s infinite nature. We are all Talmidei Chachamim: we are all searching for some kind of meaning or engaging in some element of epistemology. The desire and search for G-d is an infinite and impossible pursuit of peace. Truth and peace, two elements of G-d that we desire are beyond our understanding but are intrinsically part of us. Our partnership with G-d opens up the possibility of the infinite within us. Belief transcends the physical. This is the infinite human trait. G-d and humanity are united through belief and peace. Rav Kook says that the blessing of peace unites all opposites. There is peace in the unification and fusion of the infinite and the finite.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Chag Sameach
In the midst of a month of celebration! An exclamation, I believe, is appropriate to describe this month. Weeks of vacation are punctuated with random reality checks, thrown in to remind you that you don't, in fact, live in synagogue...or in a sukkah...or on the beach...or in a coffee shop.
I began this year well: with family. Elyssa and I went to Tel Mond to stay with friends of the family (due to my lack of blood relations in Israel, we have agreed to adopt each other as "real" family). It was a strange but wonderful mix of religious and secular.
I went to services in the morning. Though nice, it was hard to concentrate when I was freezing, being constantly nudged by dynamic plastic chairs (there were quite a few children), and searching frantically through a machzor that seemed to include every commentary and every text ever written on every part of the Rosh Hashana service. The shofar blowing was enjoyable. For lunch on the first day, all of Yakis' family came over. It was pot-luck-esque, and extremely delicious. I'm happy to say that I contributed with a sof-haderech lental soup, and an apple challah that was equally yummy. Being surrounded by a very large Israeli family, I felt slightly foreign, but also very much part of the mishpacha. Children ran around, the two pregnant women talked about what was essentially pregnant mommy yoga (I could have the details wrong on this...I was eavesdropping...), mothers encouraged children to eat, and there was wine applenty.
The second day, I went to services again. When I returned, we rushed off to Bnaya's base to have a cook out with his army buddies and their families. It was delicious, interesting, fun, and definitely good practice for my Hebrew. While we were eating (in a little park near the base) a Breslover walked by and gave us his new years blessing. Everyone gave a rousing "Amen" in the end, which was very funny. He walked by again later and used our already ignited flame to light his cigarette. After a fabulous picnic, we headed back to Tel Mond to nap and pack.
Jump forward 10 days.
Yom Kippur was a phenomenon. We had three guests at the apartment. We needed to feed ourselves before the fast started, but afternoon was descending, and the city was unusually quiet. At 1:30, I ran to Emek Refaim to find some food. Everything was closed. Everything. Oh crap. Everything....Everything but Pizza Sebaba!!! I grabbed the last pizza they made before they closed and power walked home. After eating a delicious last meal, we donned our white clothing and headed to shul.
Elyssa and I went to Kol Nidre at Kol Haneshama. Services were beautiful. It was really a nice thing to have the ENTIRE congregation participating in a service. Try to find THAT at an American Kol Nidre. After running into many people we knew (including a sibling of a friend, my ulpan teacher etc.) Elyssa and I headed back toward the apartment.
I must explain a little about Yom Kippur here. For this one day, Jerusalem completely shuts down. No one drives. No one shops. Nothing is open (except synagogues). We joined the masses as we walked down Emek Refaim. Hundreds of people wearing all white, walking home from services, just walking, riding bikes, meeting friends, talking, sitting. Kids (and adults) rode bikes in the streets, people WALKED in the streets. It was amazing. The only car that drove by was a patrolling police car. We again saw many of our friends. After walking up and down for about an hour, we became conscious of the fact that we were not eating for 26 hours, and headed home. Services the next morning began at 8. After a day full of repenting and singing, we broke our fast with some wonderful friends. We are very grateful to the Ben Ors for their hospitality and family-ness they have provided us.
From one holiday to the next. We built a sukkah! Unfortunately not our own, but it was the next best thing! Elyssa, Benj, Emma, and I ventured to create a hut out of trash and tree branches. Sukkot is awesome. We gathered tzchach: Three of us ventured down the street a little and discovered a humongous pile of branches. People trim their bushes around this time and put everything in the streets for people like us who are looking to create a roof. As we were gathering huge branches, TWO people offered us more branches and clippers if we came by their houses. Only in Jerusalem. It was a day of learning:
1. You can make anything out of anything. Discarded two-by-fours make awesome sukkah supports
2. lashing is super strong and awesome
3. broken ladders may be dangerous
4. peppercorn branches make beautiful natural decorations
5. sap is sticky
6. wear pants
7. It's a very small world (we called a friend of ours to make plans and discovered that she was in the same building)
8. Frying shnitzl is best when oil is hot
9. Sukkahs are beautiful
10. Jews are strange
A full day of Sukkah building ended in the ushering in of the shabbat queen. We went to KabShab at Yakar, a Carlebach shul. Services were rousing and fun despite the fact that there were about twice as many people in that room as there should have been. As is the custom at synagogues like this, the Shaliach Tzibur reminds you not to worry if you don't have a place for dinner. One will be found for you. Great. That was the hope. When services ended, we approached him and told him we would love to join a nice family for dinner. He shouted over the bustling crowd: "I need two more places for the shabbat meal!!" And then in Hebrew. We felt a bit self conscious. Eventually, a very small and very sweet young woman came up to us and invited us to dinner. Of course, she spoke extremely limited English. We walked back to her home and were greeted by a huge family. Complete with a grandmother, a mother, and six kids (the seventh was in India) between the ages of 15 and 25ish. I was fully prepared to do the entire meal in Hebrew. Then they switched to French.
"Parlez vous francais???" I almost shouted. I then tried very hard to switch to French and speak to them in the language that had previously come easier to me than Hebrew. I failed. It came out in Hebrew. I guess it's a sign. After that, we carried on conversation in a bizarre mix of Hebrew, French, and English. They were very nice people and I'm looking forward to running into them again.
I slept today.
After saying goodbye to the Shabbat Kalla, Elyssa and I made dinner and went to see Waltz with Bashir. What a phenomenal movie. It was moving and sad and poignant. It really evoked a lot of anger and fear for me. It was about a man whose experiences in the first Lebanon War begin to come back to him when a friend tells him about his own. Through flashbacks, the movie details the emotional (and physical) trauma inflicted on several soldiers (animated) during the massacre at Sabra and Shatila. The movie ends incredibly powerfully. I left the movie with great respect for the position soldiers are in everyday. Elyssa and I had the same feeling at the end of the movie. In addition to the horror of the massacres, we were disturbed by the casual regard many American kids have for the army and the position soliders are in. A friend of ours had the opportunity to participate in an army simulation "for the experience of it." What does this really mean? How can we, as outsiders, begin to understand this culture? the obligation? the responsibility? The movie was incredible.
Tomorrow is the last day of ulpan.
Laila tov.
I began this year well: with family. Elyssa and I went to Tel Mond to stay with friends of the family (due to my lack of blood relations in Israel, we have agreed to adopt each other as "real" family). It was a strange but wonderful mix of religious and secular.
I went to services in the morning. Though nice, it was hard to concentrate when I was freezing, being constantly nudged by dynamic plastic chairs (there were quite a few children), and searching frantically through a machzor that seemed to include every commentary and every text ever written on every part of the Rosh Hashana service. The shofar blowing was enjoyable. For lunch on the first day, all of Yakis' family came over. It was pot-luck-esque, and extremely delicious. I'm happy to say that I contributed with a sof-haderech lental soup, and an apple challah that was equally yummy. Being surrounded by a very large Israeli family, I felt slightly foreign, but also very much part of the mishpacha. Children ran around, the two pregnant women talked about what was essentially pregnant mommy yoga (I could have the details wrong on this...I was eavesdropping...), mothers encouraged children to eat, and there was wine applenty.
The second day, I went to services again. When I returned, we rushed off to Bnaya's base to have a cook out with his army buddies and their families. It was delicious, interesting, fun, and definitely good practice for my Hebrew. While we were eating (in a little park near the base) a Breslover walked by and gave us his new years blessing. Everyone gave a rousing "Amen" in the end, which was very funny. He walked by again later and used our already ignited flame to light his cigarette. After a fabulous picnic, we headed back to Tel Mond to nap and pack.
Jump forward 10 days.
Yom Kippur was a phenomenon. We had three guests at the apartment. We needed to feed ourselves before the fast started, but afternoon was descending, and the city was unusually quiet. At 1:30, I ran to Emek Refaim to find some food. Everything was closed. Everything. Oh crap. Everything....Everything but Pizza Sebaba!!! I grabbed the last pizza they made before they closed and power walked home. After eating a delicious last meal, we donned our white clothing and headed to shul.
Elyssa and I went to Kol Nidre at Kol Haneshama. Services were beautiful. It was really a nice thing to have the ENTIRE congregation participating in a service. Try to find THAT at an American Kol Nidre. After running into many people we knew (including a sibling of a friend, my ulpan teacher etc.) Elyssa and I headed back toward the apartment.
I must explain a little about Yom Kippur here. For this one day, Jerusalem completely shuts down. No one drives. No one shops. Nothing is open (except synagogues). We joined the masses as we walked down Emek Refaim. Hundreds of people wearing all white, walking home from services, just walking, riding bikes, meeting friends, talking, sitting. Kids (and adults) rode bikes in the streets, people WALKED in the streets. It was amazing. The only car that drove by was a patrolling police car. We again saw many of our friends. After walking up and down for about an hour, we became conscious of the fact that we were not eating for 26 hours, and headed home. Services the next morning began at 8. After a day full of repenting and singing, we broke our fast with some wonderful friends. We are very grateful to the Ben Ors for their hospitality and family-ness they have provided us.
From one holiday to the next. We built a sukkah! Unfortunately not our own, but it was the next best thing! Elyssa, Benj, Emma, and I ventured to create a hut out of trash and tree branches. Sukkot is awesome. We gathered tzchach: Three of us ventured down the street a little and discovered a humongous pile of branches. People trim their bushes around this time and put everything in the streets for people like us who are looking to create a roof. As we were gathering huge branches, TWO people offered us more branches and clippers if we came by their houses. Only in Jerusalem. It was a day of learning:
1. You can make anything out of anything. Discarded two-by-fours make awesome sukkah supports
2. lashing is super strong and awesome
3. broken ladders may be dangerous
4. peppercorn branches make beautiful natural decorations
5. sap is sticky
6. wear pants
7. It's a very small world (we called a friend of ours to make plans and discovered that she was in the same building)
8. Frying shnitzl is best when oil is hot
9. Sukkahs are beautiful
10. Jews are strange
A full day of Sukkah building ended in the ushering in of the shabbat queen. We went to KabShab at Yakar, a Carlebach shul. Services were rousing and fun despite the fact that there were about twice as many people in that room as there should have been. As is the custom at synagogues like this, the Shaliach Tzibur reminds you not to worry if you don't have a place for dinner. One will be found for you. Great. That was the hope. When services ended, we approached him and told him we would love to join a nice family for dinner. He shouted over the bustling crowd: "I need two more places for the shabbat meal!!" And then in Hebrew. We felt a bit self conscious. Eventually, a very small and very sweet young woman came up to us and invited us to dinner. Of course, she spoke extremely limited English. We walked back to her home and were greeted by a huge family. Complete with a grandmother, a mother, and six kids (the seventh was in India) between the ages of 15 and 25ish. I was fully prepared to do the entire meal in Hebrew. Then they switched to French.
"Parlez vous francais???" I almost shouted. I then tried very hard to switch to French and speak to them in the language that had previously come easier to me than Hebrew. I failed. It came out in Hebrew. I guess it's a sign. After that, we carried on conversation in a bizarre mix of Hebrew, French, and English. They were very nice people and I'm looking forward to running into them again.
I slept today.
After saying goodbye to the Shabbat Kalla, Elyssa and I made dinner and went to see Waltz with Bashir. What a phenomenal movie. It was moving and sad and poignant. It really evoked a lot of anger and fear for me. It was about a man whose experiences in the first Lebanon War begin to come back to him when a friend tells him about his own. Through flashbacks, the movie details the emotional (and physical) trauma inflicted on several soldiers (animated) during the massacre at Sabra and Shatila. The movie ends incredibly powerfully. I left the movie with great respect for the position soldiers are in everyday. Elyssa and I had the same feeling at the end of the movie. In addition to the horror of the massacres, we were disturbed by the casual regard many American kids have for the army and the position soliders are in. A friend of ours had the opportunity to participate in an army simulation "for the experience of it." What does this really mean? How can we, as outsiders, begin to understand this culture? the obligation? the responsibility? The movie was incredible.
Tomorrow is the last day of ulpan.
Laila tov.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Holiday Season
As we approach the month of holidays, the weather has begun to cool. I feel that this is somewhat a metaphor for my life in Jerusalem. I've said this in every entry I've written, but I finally feel like I'm settling down. I've finally allowed the city to welcome me into the complex web of insiders, outsiders, tourists, yerushalmis, Jews, Arabs...etc. My Hebrew is also improving, b"H.
Maya was here for a week, and it was wonderful having her. It was the first time we've really lived together in 8 years. She taught us many valuable things. For example:
1. you need to keep food in your house
2. having food in the fridge is necessary
3. eating during the day sustains life
To be honest, we were doing fine, but we are very grateful for the introduction of skee.
Maya also helped us discover Mamilla. Elyssa describes it as a less expensive more Jerusalem-y Rodeo drive. It has nice shops and gorgeous views of the new city and the old city walls. I've been there now three times in one week. Last night we had a "mini-bronf-reu." Roberta, Hody, Julie, Elyssa, and I went out for tea/icecafe. We then ventured into the old city and met up with Noah! I love the inherent multicultural nature of Jerusalem. We crossed from this modern outdoor mall into the ancient walls of the old city. Where else can you do that?
Anyway, as Rosh Hashana approaches (tomorrow night!), I've been thinking about the things that make up my life. I've been in Israel for almost a month, and I feel as though I've matured tremendously, but I have not changed. In my mind, I'm still 4, or 12, or really any age. I'm still frustrated by the same things, I still feel the same way about interactions, weather, food, time...I think the reason growing older is so weird is because we change very little except to become more refined: more adapted to society. How can I be living on my own? I still loving rolling in the grass, making weird noises, and eating ice cream until I feel sick. I'm stuck in this weird middle ground between teenage-hood and adulthood. It's glorious and frustrating. I can define and redefine myself, but how do I explain myself? Why am I here? Do I really have to come up with goals? Can I let them develop as I meet people and put my super dirty feet (thats what you get from wearing sandals in the city) in foot holds?
I'm looking forward to spending Rosh Hashana with family, eating good food, reflecting, starting anew.
Shana tova umetuka l'kulam.
A sweet and happy new year to everyone,
Eliana
Maya was here for a week, and it was wonderful having her. It was the first time we've really lived together in 8 years. She taught us many valuable things. For example:
1. you need to keep food in your house
2. having food in the fridge is necessary
3. eating during the day sustains life
To be honest, we were doing fine, but we are very grateful for the introduction of skee.
Maya also helped us discover Mamilla. Elyssa describes it as a less expensive more Jerusalem-y Rodeo drive. It has nice shops and gorgeous views of the new city and the old city walls. I've been there now three times in one week. Last night we had a "mini-bronf-reu." Roberta, Hody, Julie, Elyssa, and I went out for tea/icecafe. We then ventured into the old city and met up with Noah! I love the inherent multicultural nature of Jerusalem. We crossed from this modern outdoor mall into the ancient walls of the old city. Where else can you do that?
Anyway, as Rosh Hashana approaches (tomorrow night!), I've been thinking about the things that make up my life. I've been in Israel for almost a month, and I feel as though I've matured tremendously, but I have not changed. In my mind, I'm still 4, or 12, or really any age. I'm still frustrated by the same things, I still feel the same way about interactions, weather, food, time...I think the reason growing older is so weird is because we change very little except to become more refined: more adapted to society. How can I be living on my own? I still loving rolling in the grass, making weird noises, and eating ice cream until I feel sick. I'm stuck in this weird middle ground between teenage-hood and adulthood. It's glorious and frustrating. I can define and redefine myself, but how do I explain myself? Why am I here? Do I really have to come up with goals? Can I let them develop as I meet people and put my super dirty feet (thats what you get from wearing sandals in the city) in foot holds?
I'm looking forward to spending Rosh Hashana with family, eating good food, reflecting, starting anew.
Shana tova umetuka l'kulam.
A sweet and happy new year to everyone,
Eliana
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Surprises
Life continues to solidify for me here in the city of peace, holiness, conflict, disorganization, unity, music, beginnings, and endings. Even as I write "solidify" I'm thinking of other words to put there, and many of them mean the exact opposite. Being from the Northeast, I'm not used to the last minute planning, the strange organization, the lack of baseball...etc. Elyssa and I are continuing to search for and find places to spend our time. We're still very much in the planning period, but we're less frustrated than we were.
On Sunday, I visited Pardes. The word "Pardes" literally means "orchard;" it is well named (although it is on top of a Mazda dealership). I felt like I walked into a hall at the Havurah Institute (although this time, almost everyone was in their mid-20s). I sat in on a social justice class and was welcomed into a wonderful chevruta of two Dorot fellows. We learned rules of Shmitta, first by examining the text from the Torah, then the Mishnah, and then the Gemarra. SO welcoming and inclusive was this community, that I felt comfortable contributing to the class conversation. I'm eager to start learning there, though I am completely unsure of my schedule.
Which brings me to my next point.
Elyssa and I also visited Yad B'Yad (www.handinhandk12.org). Of everything that I planned on participating in this year, I was most excited for this. While it's too early to judge, I admit I'm a bit nervous about this venture. First, the building was gorgeous. Jerusalem stone, glass, open spaces, beautiful library etc. They did, however, seem a bit disorganized. I'm attributing this now to the fact that we are in the awkward time period after the summer and before the major holidays (there are about 10 days of school in October). We did have the opportunity to play with the kids (although many of them had gone home because it is Ramadan). I spoke to the kids in Hebrew (they do not yet have the English to speak with me) which is great! They were a bit crazy, but it was nice to start. The school really was beautiful and I'm excited to start working there after the chagim (sort of a mantra here: everything starts AFTER the chagim).
We then caught a bus to the center of the city (mirkaz ha'ir) for a meeting at the Open House. It really is a wonderful organization, and they are in great need of funds, so we'll be networking and raising money. Hopefully, in a couple months, my Hebrew will be good enough that I can do more person-to-person interaction.
And now for something entirely different....well, not really. I auditioned for Rent. I swore I wouldn't do theater this year, but...we shall see. I vistied the Supreme Court today with ulpan, and I had my first longish conversation in Hebrew with a French woman. If I didn't know a word, I substituted French, which was a little confusing.
I'm looking forward to new adventures. Shabbat shalom!
On Sunday, I visited Pardes. The word "Pardes" literally means "orchard;" it is well named (although it is on top of a Mazda dealership). I felt like I walked into a hall at the Havurah Institute (although this time, almost everyone was in their mid-20s). I sat in on a social justice class and was welcomed into a wonderful chevruta of two Dorot fellows. We learned rules of Shmitta, first by examining the text from the Torah, then the Mishnah, and then the Gemarra. SO welcoming and inclusive was this community, that I felt comfortable contributing to the class conversation. I'm eager to start learning there, though I am completely unsure of my schedule.
Which brings me to my next point.
Elyssa and I also visited Yad B'Yad (www.handinhandk12.org). Of everything that I planned on participating in this year, I was most excited for this. While it's too early to judge, I admit I'm a bit nervous about this venture. First, the building was gorgeous. Jerusalem stone, glass, open spaces, beautiful library etc. They did, however, seem a bit disorganized. I'm attributing this now to the fact that we are in the awkward time period after the summer and before the major holidays (there are about 10 days of school in October). We did have the opportunity to play with the kids (although many of them had gone home because it is Ramadan). I spoke to the kids in Hebrew (they do not yet have the English to speak with me) which is great! They were a bit crazy, but it was nice to start. The school really was beautiful and I'm excited to start working there after the chagim (sort of a mantra here: everything starts AFTER the chagim).
We then caught a bus to the center of the city (mirkaz ha'ir) for a meeting at the Open House. It really is a wonderful organization, and they are in great need of funds, so we'll be networking and raising money. Hopefully, in a couple months, my Hebrew will be good enough that I can do more person-to-person interaction.
And now for something entirely different....well, not really. I auditioned for Rent. I swore I wouldn't do theater this year, but...we shall see. I vistied the Supreme Court today with ulpan, and I had my first longish conversation in Hebrew with a French woman. If I didn't know a word, I substituted French, which was a little confusing.
I'm looking forward to new adventures. Shabbat shalom!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Things Come Together
Yay productivity!!
Shabbat was especially wonderful (although not productive...clearly). On Friday afternoon, we had the opportunity to see some of our friends from Bronfman! We made a wonderful dinner (shakshuka! and stir-fry) and went to beautiful services (again at Shira Chadasha) and had a dinner guest. It was so wonderful that everything came together for Shabbat: dinner guest, plans for lunch (at another Bronfman friend's house), and plans for seuda shlishit at Shimon's. It was really nice to see Bronfman people whom we hadn't seen in a while.
Seuda shlishit: Shimon is great. We talked about politics, the hypocrisy of the republican party, sarah palin, etc. Shimon turns out to be pretty passionate about American politics (for someone who made Aliyah).
We then went out for coffee etc with bronfman people and some Israeli friends at this really awesome jazz club/open jam session.
Things are coming together in terms of plans too. We start at Yad B'yad and Open House on Tuesday, and we start learning with Shimon on wednesday. I visited Pardes today. What wonderful people. I'm very eager to start learning there. I am clearly the youngest there, but it is such a great opportunity to learn with passionate young Jews.
Sorry for the discombobulation. I'm quite tired.
Laila Tov,
Eliana
Shabbat was especially wonderful (although not productive...clearly). On Friday afternoon, we had the opportunity to see some of our friends from Bronfman! We made a wonderful dinner (shakshuka! and stir-fry) and went to beautiful services (again at Shira Chadasha) and had a dinner guest. It was so wonderful that everything came together for Shabbat: dinner guest, plans for lunch (at another Bronfman friend's house), and plans for seuda shlishit at Shimon's. It was really nice to see Bronfman people whom we hadn't seen in a while.
Seuda shlishit: Shimon is great. We talked about politics, the hypocrisy of the republican party, sarah palin, etc. Shimon turns out to be pretty passionate about American politics (for someone who made Aliyah).
We then went out for coffee etc with bronfman people and some Israeli friends at this really awesome jazz club/open jam session.
Things are coming together in terms of plans too. We start at Yad B'yad and Open House on Tuesday, and we start learning with Shimon on wednesday. I visited Pardes today. What wonderful people. I'm very eager to start learning there. I am clearly the youngest there, but it is such a great opportunity to learn with passionate young Jews.
Sorry for the discombobulation. I'm quite tired.
Laila Tov,
Eliana
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Week one= shalem
Hello again,
We've had an interesting week. I've now been to ulpan for 7 classes, and I'm still worried about hebrew. My comprehension is fine, but I need to work on my dikduk (grammar). oy. The class is easier to get through now, because I sit with my new friend Michelle, who is getting her masters at Hebrew U. We talk about American politics, and struggle through our thoughts, attempting to articulate them.
Last Shabbat, we went to a friend's house for dinner after beautiful services at Shira Chadasha. The dinner was amaaazing and we are fast learning to appreciate free meals. Saturday afternoon (after sleeping until 11:45) we went to Shimon's. Fortunately, I wasn't that hungry, because it was mostly meat.
Elyssa and I have been going to ulpan, coming back and enjoying our siesta, and going out in the afternoons for errands etc. We finally had our first meeting today! We met with Shira from the Open House about volunteering there. We are probably going to do some resource development and community organizing. The Open House (http://www.worldpride.net/index.php?id=1319), by the way, is the center for GLBTQ support in Jerusalem. The people who run it are really wonderful. We had planned to visit there anyway, but a chance meeting helped facilitate our progress. We had coffee with Assaf (our security guard/counselor/friend from last summer) and his friend walked in and we talked. He told us to come to the Open House, and he gave us some more contact info. Yesss, so now we feel busy.
We have meetings with Pardes and Yad Byad on Sunday.
We are leaving tomorrow afternoon for Tel Aviv to visit Maya and Uri. We're going to the beach!
On friday, we hope to visit with Hody, Julie, Eitan, and Roberta!!! איזה כיף להיות עם חברים
We just returned from hanging out with some Israelis who are our age! It was exciting. We watched a football match (actually soccer) and I stumbled through Hebrew as they stumbled through English.
To bed! I'm tired. (we seriously have walked about 6 miles today. probably more. we hate paying for transportation)
ciao
We've had an interesting week. I've now been to ulpan for 7 classes, and I'm still worried about hebrew. My comprehension is fine, but I need to work on my dikduk (grammar). oy. The class is easier to get through now, because I sit with my new friend Michelle, who is getting her masters at Hebrew U. We talk about American politics, and struggle through our thoughts, attempting to articulate them.
Last Shabbat, we went to a friend's house for dinner after beautiful services at Shira Chadasha. The dinner was amaaazing and we are fast learning to appreciate free meals. Saturday afternoon (after sleeping until 11:45) we went to Shimon's. Fortunately, I wasn't that hungry, because it was mostly meat.
Elyssa and I have been going to ulpan, coming back and enjoying our siesta, and going out in the afternoons for errands etc. We finally had our first meeting today! We met with Shira from the Open House about volunteering there. We are probably going to do some resource development and community organizing. The Open House (http://www.worldpride.net/index.php?id=1319), by the way, is the center for GLBTQ support in Jerusalem. The people who run it are really wonderful. We had planned to visit there anyway, but a chance meeting helped facilitate our progress. We had coffee with Assaf (our security guard/counselor/friend from last summer) and his friend walked in and we talked. He told us to come to the Open House, and he gave us some more contact info. Yesss, so now we feel busy.
We have meetings with Pardes and Yad Byad on Sunday.
We are leaving tomorrow afternoon for Tel Aviv to visit Maya and Uri. We're going to the beach!
On friday, we hope to visit with Hody, Julie, Eitan, and Roberta!!! איזה כיף להיות עם חברים
We just returned from hanging out with some Israelis who are our age! It was exciting. We watched a football match (actually soccer) and I stumbled through Hebrew as they stumbled through English.
To bed! I'm tired. (we seriously have walked about 6 miles today. probably more. we hate paying for transportation)
ciao
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Ulpan and such
Day one of ulpan. We woke up at 6:30 and showered. I should add here that our shower is interesting. The shower head is about at chest height. One lifts said shower head in one hand, and uses the other for showering purposes. It is a learned skill.
Anyway, after showering, we walked to Ulpan (Hebrew class) and arrived at 7:57 (it starts at 8). I am in "Gimmel plus" which is level three plus. The teacher is nice, and very much a crazy Israeli lady. There are 10 people in my class. At least 2 of us are Jewish, one woman is an olah chadasha (new immigrant) from Russia, and the rest are Arab. Everyone in the class is really nice and eager to learn Hebrew, which is great. I understand everything which is going on (awesome!) but I still lack speaking skills and dikduk (grammar). I'm going to buy a grammar book tomorrow.
After 4 and a half hours at ulpan, Elyssa and I went grocery shopping...again; this time at Mr. Zol which is a conviently large and familiarly structured supermarket. We then walked to the old city. According to Omer (one of our Israeli friends from last summer), it would be a 10 minute walk. An Israeli 10 minutes...actually, more like 20. We bought some more stuff for our apartment and then decided that we would save money on cab fare and walk all the way back. An Israeli 10 minutes. This time, 25. Exhausted, we drank water and ate pita (welcome to Israel) and put our couch bed on the floor. We now have sugar, flour, water filter, rice, pasta, fruit, olive oil, soy sauce, TOFU, pita, pita, pita, hummus...and other assorted necessities.
After eating, Omer headed back to his large apartment (but they have 11 people) and we stayed home, did our homework, and cleaned the kitchen.
We're exhausted because we walked so much, and we're still getting over jetlag, but all is well. We had a delicious dinner and are looking forward to the weekend (it comes a day early here...it also ends a day early).
I'm looking forward to trying to get some antibiotics for possible pertussis tomorrow. Wish me luck.
Peace, homies.
e
Anyway, after showering, we walked to Ulpan (Hebrew class) and arrived at 7:57 (it starts at 8). I am in "Gimmel plus" which is level three plus. The teacher is nice, and very much a crazy Israeli lady. There are 10 people in my class. At least 2 of us are Jewish, one woman is an olah chadasha (new immigrant) from Russia, and the rest are Arab. Everyone in the class is really nice and eager to learn Hebrew, which is great. I understand everything which is going on (awesome!) but I still lack speaking skills and dikduk (grammar). I'm going to buy a grammar book tomorrow.
After 4 and a half hours at ulpan, Elyssa and I went grocery shopping...again; this time at Mr. Zol which is a conviently large and familiarly structured supermarket. We then walked to the old city. According to Omer (one of our Israeli friends from last summer), it would be a 10 minute walk. An Israeli 10 minutes...actually, more like 20. We bought some more stuff for our apartment and then decided that we would save money on cab fare and walk all the way back. An Israeli 10 minutes. This time, 25. Exhausted, we drank water and ate pita (welcome to Israel) and put our couch bed on the floor. We now have sugar, flour, water filter, rice, pasta, fruit, olive oil, soy sauce, TOFU, pita, pita, pita, hummus...and other assorted necessities.
After eating, Omer headed back to his large apartment (but they have 11 people) and we stayed home, did our homework, and cleaned the kitchen.
We're exhausted because we walked so much, and we're still getting over jetlag, but all is well. We had a delicious dinner and are looking forward to the weekend (it comes a day early here...it also ends a day early).
I'm looking forward to trying to get some antibiotics for possible pertussis tomorrow. Wish me luck.
Peace, homies.
e
Monday, September 1, 2008
2 days of travel, and we're here
We made it! It's so weird how travel across time zones really messes with your perception of time. My flight from Boston to Toronto was nice. I sat next to a nice Canadian woman and talked about American politics, and how Barack Obama should win the election. I arrived in Toronto and found my gate. The man sitting at the desk provided several hours worth of entertainment. He either loved his job (he was very cheerful) or really hated it. Anyway, I eventually boarded the plane and smushed my too-big backpack into the overhead (an elderly woman sitting under the overhead gave me a hostile and nervous look).
The flight wasn't bad; I sat next to two 18 year old boys headed to yeshivot in Israel. We talked about baseball, mostly. I can't sleep on airplanes, and I didn't really want to watch 10 hours of movies, so I watched people. The flight was about 1/2 students headed to study in Israel, and 1/2 older people or really young families (multiple children, of course). The flight attendants were nice; among them, there were 5 languages available (Arabic, Hebrew, English, French, and Italian).
I arrived at Ben Gurion, and after some confusion with baggage claim, I went through "customs" (a couple of old men in uniforms, sitting in chairs, waving people on), and found Maya! A friendly face was certainly welcome. Maya bought me gelotto and I kvetched. Eventually I headed out to the Sherut area and boarded the van headed for Jerusalem. The driver, being Israeli, found speed limits to be merely a suggestion (and a mild one at that). Also, lane indications were no biggy (who needs them anyway?)
He dropped me on the street. I looked around in the dark, saw no number 12, and rustled through my bag to find my phone. Elyssa found me, though, and we headed upstairs to unpack.
The apartment is small, and not very well furnished, but we'll go to the shuk tomorrow. I've unpacked, and it finally feels like a home. The oven is small, but I expect that we will be able to use Shimon's kitchen!
We're heading to ulpan tomorrow morning at 8, and then some organizational stuff.
Peace out, from the holy land,
Eliana Tair
The flight wasn't bad; I sat next to two 18 year old boys headed to yeshivot in Israel. We talked about baseball, mostly. I can't sleep on airplanes, and I didn't really want to watch 10 hours of movies, so I watched people. The flight was about 1/2 students headed to study in Israel, and 1/2 older people or really young families (multiple children, of course). The flight attendants were nice; among them, there were 5 languages available (Arabic, Hebrew, English, French, and Italian).
I arrived at Ben Gurion, and after some confusion with baggage claim, I went through "customs" (a couple of old men in uniforms, sitting in chairs, waving people on), and found Maya! A friendly face was certainly welcome. Maya bought me gelotto and I kvetched. Eventually I headed out to the Sherut area and boarded the van headed for Jerusalem. The driver, being Israeli, found speed limits to be merely a suggestion (and a mild one at that). Also, lane indications were no biggy (who needs them anyway?)
He dropped me on the street. I looked around in the dark, saw no number 12, and rustled through my bag to find my phone. Elyssa found me, though, and we headed upstairs to unpack.
The apartment is small, and not very well furnished, but we'll go to the shuk tomorrow. I've unpacked, and it finally feels like a home. The oven is small, but I expect that we will be able to use Shimon's kitchen!
We're heading to ulpan tomorrow morning at 8, and then some organizational stuff.
Peace out, from the holy land,
Eliana Tair
Friday, August 22, 2008
Apartment
Success! Shimon found us an apartment in Talbiyeh, apparently a very nice neighborhood. Please visit! I also finally got my Israel cell phone, though if you are in America, I highly suggest that you get skype so I can talk to you. http://skype.com
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
One more week!
Welcome to my blog! I'll (hopefully) be able to keep this updated regularly. Check here for updates on my adventures in Israel.
I'm leaving in 11 days, and still no apartment for sure. I'm getting a little nervous at this point, but Shimon said not to worry. eep.
I am very grateful to those who have offered me a place to stay/sleep/eat in Jerusalem. I am looking forward to running into a lot of you in the coming year!
B'shalom,
Eliana Tair
I'm leaving in 11 days, and still no apartment for sure. I'm getting a little nervous at this point, but Shimon said not to worry. eep.
I am very grateful to those who have offered me a place to stay/sleep/eat in Jerusalem. I am looking forward to running into a lot of you in the coming year!
B'shalom,
Eliana Tair
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