Goodbye Paris, Hello Jerursalem!

We had planned to visit the Musee d'Orsay again, to fill our last morning in Paris. But when we discovered the Monet Museum, there was no contest!

The Monet Museum was so incredible it almost moved me to tears.

I never did find the painting that hangs in my room, but the other hundred we saw were just as spectacular.

Back at the apartment, I packed up my bags, walked to the Metro, caused quite a scene with my waterworks, and kissed my Mommy goodbye.

A metro ride, a train ride, a lot of wandering, a lot of waiting (and a glass of wine) ... and then I boarded my plane.

I had a brief layover in Budapest before finally landing in Tel Aviv. It was almost 6 am by the time I crawled into bed in Jerusalem.

Paris: Day 4

We finally figured out the mystery of our late waking. In Paris in the Winter, it doesn't even begin to get light outside until 8:30 am! But on our last full day in Paris, we pulled ourselves out of bed in the dark and got an early start to the day.

We took the Metro to Montmartre. Instead of climbing the steps to the Sacre-Coeur, we took the Funiculaire (kind of like a ski-lift.)



We had what would have been a lovely view of the entire city, if it hadn't been for the overcast weather. But the Sacre-Coeur was beautiful - inside and out!



We took a stroll through Montmartre, which in the spring is supposed to have magnificent gardens and ivy-covered walls. We didn't see any of that, but did stumble upon a restaurant that definitely warranted a picture.



We found the cute but touristy place du Tertre, where we visited the Espace de Salvador Dali. Mom loves Dali and the museum was amazing!



Mom loved Dali's sculptures of the Venus de Milo and I loved his women with drawers. We also found his painting and sculptures of Alice in Wonderful and of the 12 Tribes of Israel fascinating!

We treated ourselves to crepes and soup for lunch and headed back to downtown Paris, where we visited the Eiffel Tower ...



... and waited for its hourly show.



We returned home to light our Hanukkiah again.

Paris: Day 3

By Day 3 we had a routine. Difficulty waking up. Aching calves. Showers. Breakfast in the room.

We took the Metro to the Bastille market. We bought two fresh pairs and some pastires, but the trip was most valuable for the ... sights.



We walked several blocks to le Marais, the Jewish quarter of Paris. Before World War II, Le Marais had a vibrant Jewish population. It is still known for its Jewish history ... and for its gay life and great shopping. With the help of a map. we found the Musee d'art et d'histoire du Judaisme (Jewish History Museum). The museum was targeted to a less knowledgeable audience, but we found many interesting things ... the Jewish tombstones dating back to 13th century France, personal narratives and photos of contemporary French Jews, and a painting of a young Sephardic Jewish girl that looked eerily like me!

After the museum, we found Rue de Rosiers, the only remaining section of the Jewish quarter. There were Jewish delis and Judaica stores and falafel shops everywhere! My brain felt like it was going to explode with all the Hebrew and French whizzing around. We had borekas and latkes at a Jewish deli called Sasha Finkelsztajn.



And then I used my Hebrew skills to chat up a French Chabad rabbi and get a free Hanukkiah (menorah)!

Needing a break from the liveliness of the Jewish quarter, we stopped in to the Carnavalet Museum, where we saw the rooms and salons of King Louis XV and XVI and Marcel Proust's bedroom. (Max loved that!)

We ate our pears as we made our way to the Metro. We stopped at the Opera House.



We recharged with a little dinner at a nearby cafe and headed back to our apartment to light the Hanukkah candles.

Paris: Day 2

We had no more luck waking up than the day before. But Paris was calling us, so we ate a quick breakfast in the room and headed out for the day.

As we were heading to the Metro, we saw a Farmer's Market and took a little detour. The market was incredible. Fresh fruits and vegetables, delicious cheese, hot and flaky pastries, flowers everywhere. I could have done without all the dead rabbits, however! We bought orange blossom bread, fresh cheese, and olives, and, with our picnic in hand, abandoned the metro and walked to the Eiffel Tower.

We ate our lunch on a picnic bench on the green field in front of the Eiffel Tower, watching children play and dogs run and tourists stage cheesy pictures in front of the famous landmark. Not that we didn't join them.






We convinced a young British couple to take a few pictures of both of us, and in return got to hear the story of how he just proposed to her on the top of the Eiffel Tower!

We took the Metro to Notre Dame, where we sat inside, marveling at the architecture and the stained class windows.




I had some fun with Charlemagne ...



... and the Notre Dame pigeons.



From Notre-Dame we walked the (much longer than we thought) distance to the Musee D'Orsay. I know the Louvre is Paris' beloved museum, but I loved the Musee D'Orsay. Built in a restored train station, it's so much more intimate than the Louvre. Plus ... I feel even more in love with Impressionism than before. I couldn't believe how powerful it was to see, in person, Monet's painting of Giverny (so different than the poster than hangs above my bed at home in Florida) and Degas' dancers and Renoir's Bal du moulin de la Galette.

Following the flawless instructions of "the Bible" (aka the Dummies Guide to Paris) we went in search of the vegetarian restaurant Grenier de Notre-Dame. We had pumpkin soup, vegetarian lasagna, and tiramisu (all with a side of flirtation from our 40-year-old Tunisian waiter Amar who asked if I would stay in Paris please.)

We decided against a night time cruise of the Seine (I got my dislike of boats from my mother) and wandered a bit downtown before returning home for some homemade vin chaud (hot wine) and making plans for tomorrow.

Paris: Day 1

It was 12 hours door to door from Budapest to Paris. My Mom had flown across an ocean. It was no surprise that we had a little trouble dragging ourselves out of bed on our first day in Paris.

Our apartment, I discovered in the day light, was located in an adorable part of the 7th arrondisement. We went downstairs to buy some groceries, had breakfast in the room, and set off to begin our Mother-Daughter Parisian Adventure.

We took the metro to the Arc de Triomphe and climbed the 284 stairs to the top for a breathtaking view of the city of Paris.





We walked down the Champs-Elysees ...



.. and ate a panini at a cute cafe.

We stumbled upon a Christmas Fair, where I was able to get Max a snow globe I promised him without having to spend 10 euros on a piece of plastic.



We took a detour to see the Grand and Petit Palais ...



... and made our way through the rest of the Christmas fair (with a brief stop for vin chaud i.e. hot mulled wine).

The Champs-Elysees brought us to the place de la Concorde, where we saw the Egyptian Obelisk, given by the Egyptian government in the 19th century.



Also at the place de la Concorde, was the Wheel of Excellence and beautiful fountains which I had a certain affinity for.



We walked through the (rather barren) Jardin de Tuileries ... and then on to the Louvre!



On Friday evenings, people under 26 get into the Louvre for free which made the whole thing even better. Walking up to the Louvre felt a little like a dream. The museum is absolutely incredible, but seriously overwhelming. We saw the Mona Lisa, the Winged Victory, the Venus de Milo, and hundreds of other amazing works of art.

My Mom and I also carried out "research" for our hypothetical book entitled "Butts of the Louvre."

Goodbye Budapest, Hello Paris!

Our last morning in Budapest. Several of the Dorot ladies went to "the baths." I slept in, entertained Naamah and Alex while they packed, and went to lunch at a cute cafe which served us some delicious pumpkin soup.

We met the rest of the group at a cafe, where we "processed." I think we were all feeling many of the same things. A renewed interest in the Holocaust. Confused about Diaspora Jewry, excited about Budapest, scared about the growing anti-Semitism in Eastern Europe.

And that was that. We boarded a little bus that took us to the airport. We were there very, very early so Kate, Shoshana, and I entertained ourselves with Scrabble-type games.

And then I was off to Paris!

I arrived in the Charles de Gaulle Airport later than expected. I found my luggage and then a payphone where I called the company with which I had reserved a shuttle.

It rang and rang. I called and called. Finally, I accepted the fact that despite having paid 30 euros (which was later refunded to me) I would have to find an alternative mode of transportation.

It took a while but finally I figured out that I could take the Roissy bus from the airport to the Opera, where I could catch a cab to the apartment Mom and I had rented. The bus ride was smooth, but when I arrived at the Opera house I couldn't hail a cab!

They kept whizzing past me like I was invisible. Finally, I saw a sign across the street. TAXIS. I reasoned that people in Paris wait in line for taxis and crossed the street. I saw Jake and Shoshana waiting in line too and waved excitedly, glad to see familiar faces. My excitement dwindled quickly as 20, 30, 40 minutes passed without the line getting much shorter. More than an hour later, I finally got in a cab, climbed the 5 flights (84 steps) up, threw my arms around my Mommy, and collapsed into bed.

Budapest: Day 4

By our 4th day in Budapest, I'd decided that if I 1) spoke Hungarian or 2) had actually mastered other language and had the ability to acquire another one I would totally move to Budapest for 6 months.

My love for the city persisted, despite the dreary weather that greeted us as we left the hotel.

We drove to the Lauder Jewish Day School, which is by many measures a miracle. The Jewish population in Budapest was destroyed by the Holocaust. Yet, on the outskirts of the city is a school which enrolls 100s of young Jewish students.

The school itself was beautiful, and the principal was brilliant and inspired and passionate. I was really taken about by the spirit of the school, which defied all our preconceptions about post-Holocaust Eastern Europe. We were treated to lunch in the cafeteria, although I ate very little of the deep-fried mushrooms, creamed spinach, and french fries.

Our next stop was the JCC. I remember very little of this part of the day outside of struggling to stay awake. At Siraly (pronounced Seer-eye), however, I was much more awake, thanks to Siraly's amazing story and their delicious hot cocoa. Siraly (side note: Siraly (Seer-eye) is on a street called Kiraly (Keer-eye)) is a restaurant, performance space, meeting place for young Jews (and non-Jews)in Budapest. The synagogues and other organized Jewish settings in Budapest are very much dominated by a 60+ crowd, and Siraly was a response to the younger generations desire to connect to Judaism in a new way. Very cool.

That evening, we were all invited to Tamas Halasz's (artist and critic in Budapest and friend of Neils') apartment for a party. There was delicious cheese and chocolate, a birthday cake for Neil, and lots and lots of wine. Mid-way through the evening I realized that all the Dorot Fellows were hilariously drunk. I think I missed the memo.

Budapest: Day 3

Our first stop on our third day in Budapest was the Danube, where there is a Holocaust memorial. The memorial is dozens of iron-casted shoes, to represent the thousands of Hungarian Jews who were shot into the Danube during the Second World War.

We maintained a Holocaust theme for the morning, and trekked to the new Holocaust Memorial Center. After an hour or two in the museum, we met with Gabrielle, an employee of Judapest (a grass roots online community aiming to uncover the stimulating, the relevent, and the cool in the Hungarian Jewish experience) who spoke about Contemporary Anti-Semitism in Hungary.

We ate lunch at one of the few kosher restaurants in the city, and heard from Mirca Chernov, who works for Chaver, an organization which organizes and conducts open discussions and lectures to fight prejudice and misconceptions about Jews and Judaism.

I took a brief nap, before going with Dorot to an authentically Hungarian modern dance performance. It was powerful, emotional, beautiful, and - oh, did I forget to mention? - very naked.

We grabbed a late dinner at a cafe before crashing for the night.

Budapest: Day 2

Budapest, Day 2, began bright and early with breakfast at the hotel and a brisk walk to Central European University, where we met Professor Michael Miller. Professor Miller gave a fantastic Introduction to Budapest Jewry (and may have successfully convinced several fellows to pursue graduate studies in Eastern European Jewry at CEU.)

Agi led us on a walking tour of Budapest's Jewish Quarter, including the famous Dohan synagogue and its small Holocaust museum.

We were treated to a surprisingly delicious lunch at the Chabad Yeshiva in Budapest and a lovely story. (Cliff Notes version: A man leaves his wife and two children in search of a job. His boat capsizes because of a bad storm, and he washes on the shore of an island. When he awakes, he discovers that on the shore of this island are thousands of diamonds. He shoves a few into his pockets, and goes in search of food. At the store, he is told that diamonds are of no use to the people on this island. Their currency is fish. The man spends days learning to catch fish, and is finally able to start a life on this island. He becomes very successfull, until he has the most fish on the whole island. He builds a boat and gathers a crew, to sail him back to his family. When he arrives back home, the whole town has gathered to greet him. But at the smell of all the fish aboard the boat, they turn and flee. Only his wife and children remain. He hugs them each and explains that they should worry no more! They are rich with fish! He sees his wife's face, slowly begins to remember that fish mean nothing outside of that little island, and faints. In his pockets, his wife finds the few diamonds he had stuffed in their the first day. It is just enough to repay their debts, but it will certainly not make them rich. Because the value of money is relative, and we must remember what is truly valuable in life.)

Very contrary to the theme of the rest of the week, Elliot took me to Budapest's big Christmas Fair, where I drank hot wine, tasted roasted chestnuts, and bought very warm socks for my Floridian-born toes.

Budapest: Day 1

My European adventure began at 1 am - when the word ad-ven-ture was 2 syllables longer than any of the words I could manage to grunt.

I stood in front of Shalom Falafel at 1:45 am, waiting for my sherut (shared taxi) marveling at fact that the smell of falafel still lingered in the air and struggling to keep my eyes open.

At 6 am, after I had successfully 1) not gotten car sick on the way to the airport, 2) convinced the Israeli security officer that I was not a terrorist, and 3) not fallen asleep, my plane took off for Budapest. (I, of course, was fast asleep before we'd even reached our cruising altitude.)

We arrived in Budapest to freezing cold weather and the harsh sounds of Hungarian. Alex, Naamah, Yoshi, and I found an adorable cafe where I ordered lentil soup ("no meat? this soup has no meat"?) only to discover chunks of sausage floating around in it. We met the rest of the group at noon at the hotel (although I was 5 minutes late due to a necessary yogurt purchase at the nearby grocery store.)

We took a tour of Budapest with our tour guide/educator Agi, where all my anger about meaty-soup and qualms about Hungarian disappeared as I fell quickly in love with the city. Budapest is stunningly beautiful, comfortable and accessibly, lovingly worn.

That night, a big group of us went to a not-so-authentic but definitely tasty Indian restaurant, and played cards and drank hot chocolate at an underground (as in basement level) bar/cafe.

I'm off to Budapest!

Worthwhile highlights:

Monday: Max was famous. Hebrew lesson with Sharon. Story time at JELLY. Read 2 Eric Carle books, The Little House, and an Alfie book (though not the one where he wears the red rain boots.) Dinner with Navah. Got very lost on the bus.

Tuesday: Booked archaeologists. Failed shopping adventure. Got very lost in Talpiot. Tea and cookies with Isra.

Wednesday: Lots of reading. Meeting with Noam. Hebrew lesson. Bought pants. Tried sahlab (Middle Eastern drink) for the first time at Tmol Shilshom with Jen. Soup at Marakia with Kate and Max.

Thursday: Max was extra famous (article on the front page of the Post!) Dorot Day: Hebrew as a Biblical and Modern Language. Thought a lot about how speaking Hebrew helps shape the Zionist myth. Ordered a pizza.

Friday: Grocery shopping. Laundry. Tofu fried rice and salad (with homemade ginger dressing!) for dinner. 3 episodes of the Wire.

Today: Slept it. Plans for lunch (and maybe more sahlab) in East Jerusalem with Max. Packing.

1:00 am tonight: Sherut will pick me and take me the airport where I will board a plane headed for Budapest. 5 days in Budapest with Dorot. 5 in Paris with Mommy!

When I get back from my European adventure, I'll have my new computer!

My Boyfriend is Famous

Yesterday was Max's first day on the job:

http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1227702465388&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull

Goodnight Moon

Saturday was a sleepy Shabbat. When I first came to Israel, I was frustrated by the nature of Saturdays in Jerusalem. The whole city shuts down, and there's little to do for a cabin-feverish American. I wanted the day to buy groceries or see a movie or take advantage of the museums and monuments that there isn't always time for during the week. But sometime in the last few months, I began to appreciate Saturday here for what they are. Peaceful. Relaxing. Stress-free because you just have to throw up your hands and accept that even if you want to use your day of rest for productivity, you just can't.

Rabbi Havivi, Max's rabbi from his synagogue in Greensboro, invited Max and I to join him and Greensboro's other rabbi (at the Reform Temple) for dinner at the Ticho House. Beit Ticho was one of the first houses built outside of the walls of the Old City. It was purchased by Dr. Ticho and his wife (and cousin ... hmmm) Anna. When they died, they left the house to the city, and it now serves as a museum of Anna's famous paintings, Dr. Ticho's large collection of Hanukkah menorahs, as well as one of the best restaurants in the city. We arrived excitedly at the Ticho House, to discover that we were dining with not only Greensboro Jewish clergy, but its Christian clergy as well. 30 of them. The food was amazing, the group delightful, and the speaker, Rev. Dr. Petra Heldt a little crazy. She works for the Ecumenical Theological Research Fraternity (no I did not make that up). She opened with a lovely story about Shabbat in Israel, moved onto to a powerful retelling of her survival from a terrorist attack, and then all of a sudden was talking way over the heads of the group about Sharia law. I'm a little nervous about what the church sermons in Greensboro, North Carolina are going to sound like next Sunday.

I went to the Jerusalem English Language Library for Youth (henceforth JELLY) today for my first day of volunteering duty. I sat in a chair in the corner with a huge stack of children's books, lovingly repairing loose bindings and torn pages. I'm definitely not saving the world with this volunteer project, but JELLY does good work. They provide English teachers in Jerusalem with class sets of more than 100 Engilsh language titles, because the state just doesn't fund English education well. And it's one of the only places that children can borrow books in English. As amazing and wonderful as the Hebrew language is, we can't pretend that English isn't a necessary skill for the 21st century. And JELLY's doing their part. Deborah, the librarian, asked me to come by tomorrow to help out with Story Hour. Tomorrow, there will be little Israeli children beneath my feet, listening to me read Bread and Jam for Frances, and Just Me and My Sister (the Little Critter book), and The Little House.

Goodnight Moon.

Kiss Me I'm a Vegetarian

We were supposed to go to the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo. We got up early. We bought bagels for lunch and we waited at the bus stop. And we waited. And waited. Max bought a deck of cards at the shekel-and-a-half store. We played War. Max beat me. We played War again. I won. Still, no bus.

Finally, the 26 pulled up and we hopped on. But at the that point it was already 11:30 and when the bus driver said the route would stop running around 2:30 I knew we would have to get off at the next stop. 2 hours at the zoo (when it costs more than 40 shekels to get in) just wouldn't be enough. We ate our bagels on a little spot of grass on the side of the road and then headed home.

I defrosted the freezer which was, I guess, a plus to the day. It was a 2 hour ordeal and involved a lot of hot water, a bent knife, and the growing feeling that I had to "beat" the ice. I took a lovely afternoon nap before dinner with our neighbor Darja. I made spaghetti and "meat"balls (from a great Israeli brand of frozen vegetarian products) and strawberry salad.

The night ended with an episode of The Wire, a Skype call with my parents, and the promise of fruit shakes and lunch tomorrow from Darja.

The Holy Land through the Eyes of Islam

Ugh. It was so cold yesterday morning. My alarm went off at 6:15 and I wanted to hurl it across the room. Except my alarm is my cell phone and I'm kind of fond of it.

I had set the solar water heater the night before, so the water would be nice and warm the next morning. Still, it took all my willpower to make my way to the shower. There I stood. Next to the shower. Waiting for the water to warm up. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. I began to realize I was wasting water, so I turned off the shower to investigate my predicament. Someone turned off the timer on the water heater! This whole cold water conundrum threw my morning way out of whack. I ended up leaving 10 minutes later than I should have, with frizzy hair and a bad attitude.

Luckily, the Dorot gang is very understanding of bad mornings. I made it to the Old City just in time to walk with (most of) the group to the first stop of our "The Holy Land through the Eyes of Islam" day: The Dome of the Rock and Al-aqsa Mosque. I say most of because two Dorot Fellows did not join us on this part of the day. The area where the Dome of the Rock is/the Temple Mount/HarHaBayit/Mount Moriah is considered by many Jews to be the holiest site in Judaism. There are many different halachic understandings of what this means for modern Jews (whether we can go at all, whether there are certain things we must do to prepare before going, whether we can go to the area but not up on the raised platform where the Dome of the Rock/Holiest of Holies is).

The Temple Mount is unbelievably beautiful, first and foremost. It's speckled by huge trees and lawns, and I was distinctly aware of a sense of calm about the place. (Although I'm sure that is not the case on Fridays when the place can, and sometimes does, hold more than 300,000 praying Muslims.) And the Dome of the Rock itself is one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. It's huge, with intricate mosaics covering all its (eight?) sides. The top, which is painted with 2 tons of pure gold, shimmers in the light and stands in remarkably stark contrast to, well, everything.

Our tour guide, Nasser Aweidah, gave us a great overview of the history of and current political tensions surrounding this place. I was incredibly grateful for his honesty and willingness to speak bluntly. (Except, perhaps, when he voiced his opinions about women, who, in his opinion, should never lead because 1) they lead with their heart not their mind 2) it takes two women to accurately witness something whereas it only takes one man 3) they are flighty. Of course, he is not representative of all Muslims by any means! And his opinions about women are not specific to Islam. Judaism has very similar things to say.)

I knew, before my visit to the Dome of the Rock, about the political implications of this Holy (to both both religions) space. The Dome of the Rock is the 3rd most holy site to Muslims, where it is believed that Mohammad ascended to heaven. But, the Temple Mount is where the Temple once stood, and, it is believed by many Jews that where the Dome of the Rock sits is the general area where the Holy of Holies, the sacred space in the Temple where only the High Priest could enter, is located. I knew this. But the knowledge was nothing compared to the experience of standing there, on the ground that is holy to two of the world's religions. The knowledge that Palestinians in the West Bank cannot come to this place while I can is powerful, but is nothing compared to the experience of standing beneath the golden dome. I left feeling very confused about the solution to this dual-claim on this sacred space ... and a little hungry.

Conveniently, lunch time was next on our list. We left the Old City and took a bus to the Everest Hotel (which is technically in Israel as well as the West Bank so that both Israelis, who can't visit the West Bank, and Palestinians who can't be in Israel without the proper ID, are legal) in Beit Jala to meet Professor Yussef el-Herimi of Al-Quds University who talked to us about Muslims texts (most the Quran). From there, we went to Abu Ghosh where we were welcomed into the home of Issa Jaber, the director of the Education Department for the Abu Gosh local council, who talked to us about the day-to-day civil life of Muslims in Israel.

When I got home, Max and I went to grab dinner at this delicious vegetarian Indian restaurant in the shuk. And then my 6 am start caught up to me and I fell asleep.

Did I mention I was carded?

I forgot to mention in the last entry that I was carded. At the movie theater. Max and I went to see "Zack and Miri" which, yes, Rated R. Yes, you have to be 16 to see a Rated R movie in Israel. No, I am not 15! I probably didn't do a great job convincing the ticket box chick of this fact, considering all the eye-rolling and sighing I did while retrieving by driver's license from my wallet. But she did let me into the movie.

Yesterday was a thoroughly unproductive day. I'm pretty disappointed in myself. I had a whole day to be really productive but nope. Shoom d'var! (Nothing!) Well, I guess that's not 100% true. I did a little research on Paris. I made a few archaeology-related phone calls. I played with my neighbor's dog. And then I went to Aviva Zorenberg's weekly Parshat HaShavuah class at Pardes with Navah. And, surprise surprise, watched an episode of The Wire. I am finding Season 3 a little slow.

This morning my wake-up call was none other than my lovely little sister. We caught up about college (favorite anecdote: her boyfriend's runaway gerbil) and my adventure here. I then set up camp in front of the computer to write a little midrash/commentary thing on the story of Avraham, Sarah, and Hagar for my lesson with Noam. I'm actually happy with it. I wrote about how ... hmm this requires some explanation.

Sarah can't get pregnant. That's a pretty big problem considering that her husband Avraham is supposed to be the father of this huge nation. She borrows her slave/handmaid Hagar's womb, in the hopes that she will be "built up through her." When Hagar gets pregnant, Sarah feels really crappy about it. (This is probably the least scholarly or religious retelling of this story ever.) She abuses Hagar, Hagar runs away, but God tells her to go back and suffer under the hand of Sarah because Hagar's son Yishmael will have a great nation too. Ok, so then lots of stuff happens. And Sarah finally gives birth to a son (Yitzhak). The story tells that Yitzhak was weaned and Avraham throws a huge drunken party for his son. And then very next line is a little anecdote about Yishmael laughing, and Sarah flipping out and exiling Hagar and Yishmael. There are a lot of midrashim and commentaries about this story, especially about the laugh that causes Sarah to go ballistic. I wrote about how I think it all has to do with the fact that Yitzhak is weaned. You know, she had this little baby that grew in her womb and who she nursed. Then all of a sudden he's weaned and dancing around with the big boys at this big party of his independence. And like a mother sending her kid off to kindergarten, Sarah gets a little panicky about protecting her baby from the world of men. She sees Hagar and especially Yishmael, Avraham's first born, as a major threat. And so they have to go.

That's the short (and less articulate) version of the essay anyway. I rushed off to my 2-hour lesson with Noam which was great as usual. And then to my 1-hour Hebrew lesson with Sharon which was also awesome. Then my brain was fried, so I went to Navah's apartment for a bit before heading back home.

Accomplishments of the night: researching modes of transportation from Charles de Gaulle Airport to the center of Paris, having a lot chat with AT&T about international roaming charges, talking to my mommy, and convincing Max to pick up a pizza on his way home from Ulpan

I have to be up at an absurd pre-6 am time tomorrow morning to be at the Old City at 7:30 am for "Islam through the Land" - the topic for tomorrow's seminar.

Lentils and contact lenses

Monday, December 1, 2008

9:43 am - Wrote yesterday's blog post

10:27 am - Helped Max edit writing samples and resume to send to Jerusalem Post

12:30 pm - Meeting and picnic lunch with Rebecca to discuss our upcoming "Politics of Archaeology" seminar

2:15 pm - Hebrew lesson with Sharon in the shuk! Learned to say: strawberries, plums, raisins, mushrooms, zucchini, garlic, almonds, cabbage, lettuce, squash, corn, green beans, peas, spinach, candy, and "disposable" (i.e. plats and cups). I'm pretty sure everyone at the shuk that day went home and said, "There were these two young woman walking around the shuk this afternoon saying, "Ma ze?" (What's that?) "Ani lo yodat." (I don't know.) It was the strangest thing!

3:22 pm - Max called to tell me he got an internship at the Jerusalem Post. More weird stares from people at the shuk (in response to my squealing this time).

3:51 pm - Returned home with groceries for dinner tonight and a cantaloupe.

5:17 pm - Made minestrone soup from scratch.

6:42 pm - Enjoyed minestrone from scratch with Max and neighbor Darja.

8:52 pm - Caught bus to Talpiot.

9:50 pm - Saw "Zach and Miri" at the movie theatre in Talpiot.

11:42 pm - Caught what I imagine is the last bus home. Bus driver took really sharp turn and I took a brief tumble down the stairs.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

4:33 am - Had very strange dream about being a camp counselor for very small children. My co-counselor (a real former co-counselor from Ramah Darom) lost two of the smallest ones on an elevator. Seized with panic, I looked everywhere for them. When I finally found them, said co-counselor was furious for making her look bad.

9:12 am - Check email and was incredible upset to read that over the Thanksgiving holiday, a stone slab with some kind of writing on it was thrown through the office window at NC Hillel.

9:23 am - Finished writing this.

It's gonna be a soupy winter

I've been having a lot of dreams lately about being home and not wanting to go back to college, being in college and not wanting to graduate, having already graduated and going home. That sort of thing. This is officially the longest I've gone without going home. Wednesday will mark 4 months.

Saturday afternoon was a leisurely one. Max and I made tomato soup ... from scratch! I wrote a few letters to friends, and took a Shabbos nap which I think was more a product of the cold weather than of me actually being tired. Needing to get out of the house, Max and I borrowed our neighbor's dog Mishke and took her for a long and cold walk to the park. We had a big feast with our neighbors (Darja and Yishai) ... soup from our kitchen and an eggy casserole thing from theirs (it was more delicious than it sounds here).

Sunday morning I had a meeting with Presentense to satisfy my curiosity. They have a beautiful space, but I'm not 100% sure I understand what they do. As far as I can tell, Presentense is an umbrella organization which is attempting to equip the next generation of Jewish leaders and innovators with the tools and ideas and community they need to launch and develop initiatives that will inspire the global Jewish community and change the world. They have a summer social entrepreneurship workshop in Jerusalem which they are hoping to expand to a year-long program around the world, a fairly impressive magazine with a global circulation, and lots of programs aimed at creating a community of like-minded people. There are lots of ways I could get involved if I want to, but I'm really struggling to decide what I want the next few months of my life here to look like.

I had lunch at Tal Bagels with Max (we went because they have a Tav Chevrati!) and then scurried off to meeting #2 at the AACI-JELLY. In non-acronym speak, that's the Association of Americans and Canadiens in Israel - Jerusalem English Language Library for Youth. The meeting was a little bit of a disappointment. I had hoped I would be able to convince them to let me initiate some great programs, reminiscent of my One Book, One People days, but the library is run by several older, British ladies who are a content in their ways, albeit very nice. However, they have a lovely English language library for children which is in desperate need of some loving tape and I'm going to help them repair books. I may also be doing a story-hour at a library a little farther away. It's not what I want as my main volunteer activity, but I'm excited about getting to spend a few hours a week holed up with children's book. (I'm looking at it as research for the many children's books I will someday read and the few I might write.)

And then I did laundry. I jogged around the park while my clothes were washing, and read Portnoy's Complaint (which is beginning to feel repetitive) while they dried and watched an episode of Friends while I folded.

And now it's Monday morning. I just got an email back from a woman at A.H.A.V.A., which is an organization that provides quality English education to students in peripheral areas in Israel. I was so excited when I found the organization and when I received the response, but I'm feeling a little hesitant now. I did a little more research and realized that the students that AHAVA reaches, as of now, are only in settlements. I am very opposed to settlements, and I'm not sure how to reconcile that with AHAVA's work. It's not like I think that children in settlements don't deserve a good education. In fact, all my college-learning tells me that the more education they get and the more English skills they acquire, the less likely they are to have extremist views. But there's something about it that doesn't sit right with me and I don't know what to do about it.