My Year In Israel

Our Apartment

2009-04-19T15:03:00.000-07:00

Pictures of our apartment: www.flickr.com/photos/allikat32

Purim is a Weird Holiday

2009-03-11T02:13:00.000-07:00

Purim is a very weird holiday. And Jerusalem is, as I'm sure you've gleaned this already, a very weird city. It has been a strange week.

First, the basics: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purim

I grew up in a Jewish home. I knew this story. Oh wait! No I didn't. I didn't know that Megillat Esther (Purim book) says that Haman is the distant descendant of Amelik, who has a pretty nasty track record in the Tanakh (Bible) for killing Jews when they're at their weakest. I hadn't thought at all about the intense connection between the story of Purim and the Holocaust. And I definitely didn't know that Purim was celebrated on a different day in Jerusalem than the rest of the world!

You must be thinking, "Wait. You mean Purim is celebrated in Israel on a different day. Right?" Nope! While Tel Avivians (that is, people from the city of Tel Aviv) were parading the streets on the 14th day of Adar (this year March 10) clad in costumes, Jerusalemites were waiting patiently (or traveling to Tel Aviv for the festivities) for their day to come. In Jerusalem, Purim is celebrated on the 15th day of Adar (this year March 11).

"But why?" you ask. Because one time we had a wall!

At the end of the story (the part no ones likes to remember) the King gives Esther permission to send out a decree to all the Jews allowing them to fight back against those who were going to kill them. They kill thousands of people and it says that the Jews fought on the 13th day of Adar and celebrated their victory on the 14th. But the Jews in the walled town of Shushan fought for two days and celebrated on the 15th day.

So the Jews in Shushan (Iran) celebrate Purim a day later. No, you're not wrong. I'm not living in Iran. But the rabbis were concerned about honoring the city of Shushan more than Jerusalem. So even though at the "time" of Esther, the city of Jerusalem was in ruins, because once (in the time of Joshua) Jerusalem was a walled city, they decided to include it. Of course, to make things more complicated, during the time of Joshua when Jerusalem was a walled city, Shushan wasn't. Crazy rabbis.

So while the rest of the country (except a few other possibly walled cities which we won't get into right now) was winding down its Purim festivities, Max and I trekked over to a drag show to kick off our Jerusalemite Purim. The drag show was NOT funny, but Purim hasn't been a total bust. Here are the highlights:

- Seeing a donkey walking down the street.
- Conversing with Elliot-as-Sarah-Palin who wouldn't break character (even when the confused Israeli bar tender couldn't understand him/her)!
- Having my cheeks pinched by Mara's fiance Josh-as-a-charedi(religious Jewish)-woman.
- Letting the Purim spirit take control and climbing aboard the stage during the drag show to move a huge vase that was blocking my view!

We're heading to a big Purim shin-dig this afternoon and I have to do Elliot make-up.

Chag sameach! (Happy holiday!)

You're 22 and you live ... in Jerusalem

2009-01-24T01:27:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't written anything in a while. Which probably seemed rather ironic considering that all eyes were on Israel for the last few weeks. But it wasn't ironic at all. Nothing in the last few weeks has really changed in my life. I'm safe and, despite feeling more nervous in crowded areas, Jerusalem has felt more or less the same. But every time I opened www.blogger.com to write, I found myself crippled my confusion and unable to find words to describe the experience of being in Israel during a war. And so, the updates about all of the exciting non-war aspects of my life were sacrificed, because it felt strange to write about them as if nothing else was new.

Don't get too excited. I still really don't have the words. The words to describe how war leaves no room for wishy-washy political views. How defining "my Zionism" began to feel like an imperative. How much I've thought and read about what it's like to send your 18-year-old boy into war; to decide that the State of Israel and what it stands for and what it does is something you believe in enough to do raise your children here. How scary it felt to ride a bus, but not even comparable to the faces in the photographs of the Palestinian women who see death all around them. How conscious I became of the peacenik-y "war is bad" view that I was raised with, and how to reconcile that with Israel - and reality. How much I've thought about the dozens of Israelis who made yerida (moved away from Israel - the opposite of aaliyah) and became my Jewish teachers, mentors, role models in my reform synagogue in my small corner of the United States. How different Judaism is to Americans and to Israelis. How little I know about my own religion and how little I know about what I want from it in my life. How strange it was to have dinner at my teacher's home last night, and look at from his balcony at the sea of green lights that shine from the tops of mosques in the West Bank, just over the hill.

In the last week, I would have written about a new class at Pardes on Spirituality that I'm taking and how difficult it is not to fall asleep during meditating. That my friend Greta is now in Israel, and how happy I am to have her here. That I had a lovely dinner last week at my friend Dena's house and pulled off an amazing veggie lasagna. How much fun it was to have lunch with old camp friends and gossip about who will return. That we have a new President and, despite missing America, how fun our inauguration pizza party was! That I heard a famous jazz saxophonist, painted a floor, and learned about the art of Storahtelling on our Dorot seminar "What is Jewish Art?" That I received a 30 page packet detailing how my friends and fellow Dorot Fellows and classmates and employers and professors rate my emotional intelligence. Well, that one will probably have to be explained in detail later.

For now let me say that I am safe and, despite being confused by Israel and, in the most quintessentially "Avenue Q" kind of way, about being 22, I am happy. And that www.kayak.com says that you can buy a round trip ticket to Israel for only $800. So if you happen to have $800 lying around (yeah right!) come visit me because it's getting warmer in Israel now and I just found a delicious pizza restaurant in Jerusalem and it would force me to clean my apartment.

Meatballs, cribbage, and goodbyes

2009-01-11T08:02:00.000-08:00

Friday afternoon was a whirlwind of tidying and sweeping and washing. And, unfortunately, the much procrastinated beginnings of the search for a plan for next year.

We invited Darja and Yishai (neighbors) to join us for Shabbat dinner, which Max and I planned to cook for his family. Max's mom and sister: wine and challah. Darja and Yishai: side dish and dessert. Max and I: spaghetti and "meat"balls and a salad (which had a remarkable resemblance to the salad at Olive Garden, if you don't mind my bragging).

Dinner was delicious and a lot of fun. Although, when I offered to make french toast out of the leftover challah, Yishai said he'd bring the hummus. I didn't end up making french toast, so whether or not he was kidding is still up for debate.

The next morning Max and I were supposed to meet Max's family at the Islamic Art Museum, but, luckily, I checked the website and discovered (at about 1:30 pm) that it closes at 2. After an unexpected refrigerator incident (a lot of water was involved) we walked down to Emek Refaim to meet Beth and Robin for tea and cribbage - a rather confusing, but very fun, card game. We switched to Spades briefly and then left to meet Michal Kabatznik (camp friend) for dinner at Luciana's - a very nice Italian restaurant. When Max and I got home, we got to talk to Sammy ... and Mike and Ben and Alyssa and Navah and Greta and Daniel on Skype!

Max had to work this morning, but I was free to meet Robin for breakfast and spend some time hearing stories about Max's annoying big brother days. And then Beth and Robin left, and I did dishes and more job hunting and some homework and signed up for more ulpan and made granola. And missed home.

I got off the bus

2009-01-09T07:23:00.000-08:00

Last Wednesday I got off the bus.

I had a lesson with Noam at the Hartman Institute at 10:45 am and then a Hebrew lesson with Sharon at 1. At 2:15 pm, I boarded a bus headed for downtown and settled into a nice backward facing window seat.

The bus drove down Emek Refaim. I started thinking about the situation in Gaza. About how scary it must be to be a civilian in Sderot - to wake up every morning with the fear that a missile might come through your kitchen window. How terrifying it must be to be a civilian in Gaza - to not be able to sleep out of fear for the lives of your family and friends. How horrifying it must be to be an Israeli soldier - to be an 18-year-old boy who has been ordered to perpetuate violence and fear.

The bus turned onto Keren Hayesod. I started thinking about times that violence has escalated in Israel. About riots in the streets. About stone throwing in the Old City. About burning restaurants. About suicide bombers.

The bus continued onto King George. I started to think about how many Palestinians must have woken up fearful and angry, rightfully in many cases, this morning. About what fear and anger make people do. About how many people whose faces and bodies I couldn't see were on that bus. And I got off.

I stood at the bus stop and watched the bus drive down the street. I watched it until it became very small in the distance and had already passed my stop. And I started to walk home, feeling silly and embarrassed and confused.

But I think what I really felt was Israeli. I was so viscerally conscious at the moment when I reached up and pressed the STOP button, 3 stops before mine, what it might be like to be an Israeli citizen and live in fear everyday of a terrorist attack.

In the days since I have tried to get the root of the confusion that this incident has caused for me. Confusion about what kind of fear and violence warrants war. About what kind of injustices make people feel that terrorism is the only viable option. About what right people who don't live in Israel or the Palestinian territories have to think they understand this situation.

Or maybe, how necessary it is for those people whose vision isn't clouded by fear, to get involved.

Politics of Archaeology

2009-01-09T04:34:00.000-08:00

After what felt like much more than 3 weeks since we last met, the Dorot gang once again convened early Thursday morning for our first seminar since before Budapest. This time, for the Politics of Archaeology seminar that I, and my partner Rebecca, planned.

We met at the Jerusalem Inter-Cultural Center, a small building very close to the Old City, for breakfast (provided by yours truly) and lots of catching up. We sat down at 9 to talk about the readings Rebecca and I had sent out, which covered the complexity of archaeology in Israel which is tied with politics and the never ending fight to establish the legitimacy of the Jewish State.

At 9:30, we were joined by Danny Seidman, a well-known lawyer who specializes in property rights, especially with Palestinian clients. For someone who claimed to know very little about archaeology, he was very knowledgeable and provided the perfect introduction to the day. He got especially riled up when talking about the Museum of Tolerance, a controversy with which I was already familiar, but now feel compelled to share.

The Los Angeles Weisenthal Center is in the process of constructing a Museum of Tolerance in Jerusalem, to promote the unity and respect among Jews and between people of all faiths. The museum, however, is currently being constructed on top of a very prominent Muslim graveyard. Many friends of the prophet Mohamed are said to be buried there as well as family members of Muslims currently living in Israel and the Palestinian territories. The Israeli Antiquities Authority has said that it is impossible to avoid building over graveyard in the State of Israel, as there are more ancient artifacts per capita than almost any part of the world. But, as far as I can tell, there is a real difference here. This is not a piece of land that happens to have an ancient civilization's remains underneath. This is a clearly marked, recently used, burial site. I wish I could urge people to do something to stop this injustice, but as the upheaval of the graves and the construction of the Tolerance Museum is already underway, all I can ask is to think twice before paying their entrance fee.

We left the JICC for the afternoon, and headed toward "Ir David." Ir David (the City of David) is believed to be the place of biblical Jerusalem, where King David established the unified capital of the tribes of Israel. Ir David has been a tourist attraction since the early 1990s, and has gained increasing success in the last 5 years. The tours, however, are being given by Elad, a right-wing settler organization that was sub-contracted by the State Parks Authority.

Our very lovely tour guide showed up a 3-D movie about the City of David, which told the story of the capturing of the Old City from the Jebusites by King David's army. The movie's special effects were impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the not-so-subtle propaganda the movie puts forth. Most horrifically, the movie boasted that now that Jews have resettled the City of David, there are children playing in the place where it all began. Somehow they forgot to mention that the famed City of David is where the Palestinian village of Silwan sits today.

The tour took us around many of the sites of the archaeological sites. Many of the archaeological finds were very impressive. Recently, for example, coins were uncovered which have the names of characters from the Bible, during the First Temple period. We saw the tunnels that were dug to provide the Old City with impenetrable access to water, in the case of a siege. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we missing a big part of the story: the other layers of archaeological evidence from the eras prior to and after those of interest to Jewish history, the Palestinian town surrounding Ir David on all sides, the increasing Jewish population in the village of Silwan.

After a quick falafel lunch, we hurried back to Ir David to meet Yoni Mizrahi, an archaeologist who leads "alternative" tours of Ancient Jerusalem. He believes firmly that archaeology has no place trying to prove the Bible, and that archaeology should not be used as a political tool. He advocates strongly for the residents of Silwan, many of whom have been uprooted from their homes by Elad, the very organization that runs the tours of the City of David. His tour was in no ways unbiased, but he provided us with a much greater scope of the story of ancient Jerusalem and the current political situation surrounding the area. We even got to speak briefly with Jawad, a resident of Silwan, who confidently epoused his belief that the best, if not only, way to truly support Israel as a Jew is to be critical of it when the situation warrants.

We headed back to the JICC for our final speaker, Jon Seligman from the Israel Antiquities Authority. He was intelligent and could hold his own, but only confused me further about the bureaucracy underlying this situation and to to hold responsible.

After Jon Seligman left, we brought out the cookies to keep everyone awake during the debriefing. The conversation turned quickly from archaeology to the importance of hearing multiple narratives and about the need to change Israeli education in North America.

Something to think about ...

To Haifa We Go

2009-01-06T13:35:00.000-08:00

Saturday afternoon involved much bumming around and not much else. By the time Max and I finally decided to face the cold, it was nearing dinner time. We headed out to Aroma Cafe on Hillel St. where I ran into Elliot Greenwald (friend from UNC) and his cousin. They graciously made room for Max and I at their table (Aroma was hopping) where we waited for Max's family (Mom and sister) to arrive.

When they did, we headed over to Tmol Shilshom (a personal favorite) for dinner. Their sweet potato soup is not as good as the Village Green (another Jerusalem favorite) but definitely a winner.

Sunday, the Socols and I took a stroll around the shuk and then ventured into the Old City. We made our way very slowly (lots of shopping) to the Kotel, so Max's mom could put her congregations letters in the Western Wall. After finding the Old City surprisingly normal, considering the current political situation in Israel, we decided it was safe to eat lunch in the Muslim Quarter at Max's favorite hummus joint. The hummus was, as usual, stellar, and we rounded out the meal with some sahlab (Arab puddingly-drink).

On Monday, after my Hebrew lesson with Sharon, Max's family invited me to join them on their trip to Haifa. They were originally planning on going to Eilat and then to Petra, but they later decided Haifa was the safer choice.

By the time we arrived in Haifa it was after dark. We checked in at a hostel on the outskirts of the city, wandered aimlessly downtown for a bit, and finally settled on a nice restaurant for dinner. When we arrived back at the hostel, we were befriended by a motherless kitten who was our source of entertainment for the night.

We woke at an unusually early hour this morning to get an early start on our adventure to the Bahai Gardens, which are (accurately I think) described by many to be the 8th wonder of the world. The dome in the middle of the 19 terraces of gardens houses the remains of the Bab, the teacher of the founder of the Bahai faith. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bah%C3%A1%27%C3%AD_Faith) The gardens are absolutely stunning!

After our tour of the Gardens and an informational video, we meandered over to the cave of Elijah the Prophet which was, to be honest, pretty disappointing. After wandering aimlessly (again), we finally found a cute restaurant with a beautiful view of the Bahai Gardens where we had a late lunch.

Robin (Max's sister) is studying Arabic at Tufts, and so we decided to head to Wadi Nisnas (an area of Haifa more populated with Arabs) to find her a book of poetry. We found not only that but the most delicious smelling spice store where I bought a mix to make my very own sahlab at home.

We took the bus to the beach, where we wandered along the rocky shore as the sun set over the Mediterranean. A little intoxicated with the beauty of Haifa, we decided to take the funicular (yes! another one!) from the beach (bottom of the mountain) to the Stella Maris monastery (very top of the mountain). It was an absolutely terrifying - but exhilarating - ride!

After a quick stop into the monastery, and an even quicker one to buy some rugelach, we headed back to the hostel where I grabbed my bags and caught a bus back to Jerualem, leaving Max and his family behind in Haifa until tomorrow.

Quote of the Day

2009-01-03T04:54:00.000-08:00

"I'd rather face a dozen men with chains in an alley than deal with the bureaucracy of the state of Florida."
-Master Legend, Real Life Superhero

http://www.rollingstone.com/rockdaily/index.php/2008/12/29/men-in-tights-meet-the-real-life-superheroes/

Guaranteed to Warm

2009-01-02T06:54:00.000-08:00

For those of you in cold places (or those of you in Florida wanting to pretend), here is the recipe for the the vin chaud (hot mulled wine) I've been making here:

1 bottle wine (red or white and you can buy cheaper stuff)
2 cups water
1/2 cup sugar (or to taste)
1 orange, sliced with peel
1/2 lemon, sliced with peel
4 cinnamon sticks
tsp cloves

Boil water. Mix in all ingredients except the wine. Let simmer for 15 minutes. Pour in wine but do not let it boil! Serve when hot.

Good 'ol Jerualem

2009-01-01T10:02:00.000-08:00

Highlights since returning to the Holy Land:

Wednesday, December 24: I climbed into bed at 5:45 am. Slept all day. Made mulled wine, and went to a Christmas party at my neighbor's friends.

Thursday, December 25: Met Rachel Braden (who's here with her family) at the Central Bus Station. Walked to Cafe Hillel for hot chocolate and then to a bar for beer (Rachel) and apple cider (me). It's cold here. Hot beverages are a must.

Friday, December 26: Slept in. Took a really long bus ride to Tiberias. Checked into the Tiberias Hostel. Saw Samantha Stiles (and company) who is here on Birthright!!! Ate baklava and drank wine at a restaurant on the water with Max.

Saturday, December 27: Walked up the hill to the King Solomon Hotel to see Sammy again! Got free breakfast. Walked around the hotel. (They keep Birthright participants on an incredibly short leash. She wasn't allowed to leave the premises.) Found the hotel's pool and wandered around in there (it was drained.) Ate a free lunch. Found out Israel had attacked Gaza. Got on another bus to Kiryat Bialek, and successfully found Max's family's house.

Sunday, December 28: Woke up feeling warmer than I have felt in a long time. Took a walk around Kiryat Bialek. Bought socks. Ate lunch. Met up with Rachel Kriegsman (camp friend) and drove to Tzippori to visit Mika. (Actually, we were driven to Tzippori by Abdullah, who works for Max's family.) Had a picnic on a hilltop with Mika and other Ramahniks. Hung around the magical wonderful that is Mika's house. Ate dinner with her family. Watched Harry Potter.

Monday, December 29: Caught early bus back to Jerusalem.

Life resumed to its usual pace of Hebrew lessons, learning with Noam, asking people to fill out surveys about my emotional intelligence, planning an archaeology seminar, etc.

Goodbye Paris, Hello Jerursalem!

2008-12-23T02:51:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-22T02:34:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-21T02:18:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-20T13:07:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-19T11:14:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-12-18T09:22:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-17T08:59:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-16T05:15:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-15T05:01:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-14T04:13:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-12-13T02:06:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-08T01:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Max's first day on the job:

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

Goodnight Moon

2008-12-07T10:23:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-06T01:45:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-05T04:23:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-12-03T10:30:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-01T23:07:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-01T21:30:00.000-08:00

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.

Not that I have any plans

2008-11-28T23:57:00.000-08:00

I was right. I did end up watching an episode of The Wire with Max on Wednesday night, just in case anyone was wondering about my psychic abilities. We also enjoyed some of our neighbor Darja's "relaxing tea" and chocolate upstairs, while she graciously let us use her washing machine to do a much-needed load of towels. (Don't go! Things will get more interesting that laundry.)

Thursday, (Dorot Day!) I was granted a couple hours of extra sleep by the planners of that day's seminar, and I don't think I was in alone in being very, very grateful for it. We met at Rebecca's house to begin our day entitled "The Politics of Kashrut." (Kashrut = Kosher) We heard from Ilan Shachar, a reporter for one of Israel's largest English-language newspapers Ha'aretz, who specializes in issues relating to the ultra-Orthodox and the Rabbanut (the religious governing body in Israel). The language barrier was tough (as was my constant worry that he was going to have a heart attack - he was a big man) but he managed to explain the complexities of the Rabbanut and how it has been come to be run almost entirely by the charedim (ultra-Orthodox). He gave us a great background, because it is the Rabbanut that has most, if not all, of the power when it comes to making and enforcing decisions about kashrut.

We left Rebecca's apartment and headed to a restaurant downtown (whose name I will not reveal to respect the privacy of the owner). The story of the restaurant is an interesting one. The restaurant had been owned for many years by a man who decided not to apply for a a teudah (a certification of kashrut, given by the Rabbanut, that kosher restaurants hang in the window) despite being 100% kosher. He was deeply disturbed by the practices of the Rabbanut's kashrut supervisors, who he believes get paid a lot of money to check (very infrequently) that a restaurant is upholding the standards of kashrut. When he passed away, his son took ownership over the restaurant, and over his father's attitudes toward the Rabbanut and the teudah process. But business is business, and he began to recognize that having a teudah would mean that many more religious Jews would eat in his restaurant. So he fought the Rabbanut for many years to get a teudah but to "get what he pays for." He didn't want to pay a monthly salary to a kashrut supervisor to come in once a week for 15 minutes. He believed that if he was going to hang a piece of paper on the door that says the government certifies his restaurant as kosher, he wanted that piece of paper to mean something. So it does. For him atleast. Not neccessarily for the thousands of others restaurants certified as kosher by the Rabbanut. (I should also mention that we ate really, really delicious food at this restaurant! I will definitely be going back.)

We left the restaurant and walked to our next stop which was, conveniently, just down the road. Marakia, a restaurant that serves mostly soup (marak means soup in Hebrew), does not have a teudah despite being kosher. The owner is a young guy who bought the business about 6 years ago from two woman who did not keep the place kosher. But the current owner came from a religious family, and felt that it was important to kasher (make kosher) the place. But he took believes that a certificate by the Rabbanut doesn't mean anything and he just doesn't by into the system. He believes that he and his customers should build a relationship, and that they should just know and believe that the restaurant is kosher if he says it is. I agreed a lot with where he was coming from, but what he was talking about didn't really seem to be a practical system for a Jewish country.

The rest of our afternoon was spent in the Orthodox Union building (where all the Dorot women were urged to dress modestly, the men in kippot, and we sat on opposite sides of the table). We met with Rabbi Yoel Lieberman, who has been working in the field of kashrut (if that is such a thing) including being a kashrut supervisor in food factories around the world. We did text study with him, presumably to get into the nitty-gritty halacha (Jewish laws) of kashrut. He was a little too scattered-brained for my style, but he gave me a lot to think about. Most of the texts he gave us were about how food cooked by non-Jews isn't kosher, no matter what the circumstances, and came right out and said it was a law to prevent intermarriage. Look, I don't keep kosher and I have very few friends who keep kashrut to that letter of the law. But it really bothered me. It's not like I don't know that Judaism has a lot of policies that promote insularity. It's not like I don't realize the realities of times in which these texts were written, or the realities of the present times, where the Jewish people are still terrified by intermarriage. But it's really different to read it on paper, to know that's what the texts of my religion say, and to grapple with the voice deep down that says "this does not make me proud to be a Jew."

Thank goodness for the man that followed next: Shmuli Bing (best name ever), the founder of the Tav Chevrati, the "Social Seal". I'll take the explanation right from their website. "Checking food to see if it is certified to meet specific standards is a familiar concept in traditional Jewish life, as many Jews will not eat foods or frequent eateries that are not certified as “kosher” by a rabbi or rabbinical organization. But, while many people are concerned that the food they eat is prepared in accordance with Jewish law, they are often not equally concerned that the workers preparing and serving the food are treated in a manner that is “kosher.” In Israel today, many restaurants and cafes offer their clientele fine food and impeccable service, but do not pay their kitchen staff and waiting staff for vacation days, sick days, and/or training days – basic rights that are mandated by Israeli law." The Tav Chevrati is a certification that a restaurant upholds all of the basic social rights of its employees and has disability access when possible. Restaurants owners can proudly display the Tav in their window, along side their teudah. (Also some of the restaurants that are Tav Chevrati certified are not kosher.) The system isn't perfect. There is a big issue in Israeli restaurants, in which very young people from underpriveleged backgrounds (i.e. Arab Israelis and Palestinians) work in restaurants for long hours despite regulations forbidding such hours during the school year. A restaurant with these practices would not get a Tav Chevrati, which on the surface is a fantastic thing. But I know that there are tens of thousands of classrooms less than than the number needed in East Jerusalem, and that for many Palestinian families, school is not an option and work is a neccessity. Still, the Tav Chevrati is an incredible venture and something I'm really excited about. I think I'm going to be trained in January to speak to long-term and short-term programs (Birthright, Nativ, YearCourse, other gap year programs) about the Tav Chevrati and to urge them to pick those restaurants over others whenever they can.

The day finished around 6:30. I jetted home and headed out again, this time with Max, to Matt's house for our big Dorot (catered) Thanksgiving dinner. (Or Joint Celebration of Indigenous People's Day and Rosh Chodesh Kislev, if you will.) There was a big table of Dorot fellows (and significant others) and more food than we knew what to do with. Sweet potato soup and toasted red pepper soup, chicken and duck and turkey (which others said was quite delicious), rice and lentils, lots of salads, ratatouille, roasted potatoes ... and lots and lots and lots of wine. Max and I left around 11:30, very full and a little (lot) tipsy. It wasn't the same as being with my family. I realized that despite having been in North Carolina for many High Holidays, this is the first year I haven't been with my family for Thanksgiving. But they called and I spoke to all 15 of them, before falling fast asleep.

Thanksgiving was followed by a distgustingly rainy day, during which I accomplished only 3 things. 1) I conducted all of my transactions at the bank in Hebrew. 2) I bought a lot of groceries at the shuk, including fish for the first time. (At the shuk they appear to only sell the whole fish but I finally figured out how to ask for a filet.) 3) Max and I finished watching the second season of the Wire. Oh. Four I guess. I also did my Hebrew homework. (Conjugating verbs in past, present, and future tense.) The weather finally started to clear up just as the sun set and Shabbat began. I made a delicious dinner for Max and I. Tilapia, oven-baked carrots and rosemary roasted potatoes, a big salad, and a whole-wheat challah from Pe'er (the best challah in Jerusalem.)

And now it's Saturday morning. A whole day stretches before me. Not that I have any plans.

Happy Almost Thanksgiving

2008-11-26T09:05:00.000-08:00

It has been a relatively quiet week so far. This is nice because I am learning to appreciate the beauty of "downtime" in this, my post-collegiate life. But, honestly, it makes me a little panicky about not fully taking advantage of Dorot and Israel.

Sunday: Yom Rishon (very confusing, by the way, that Sunday, not Monday, is the beginning of the week)

Shoom d'var. (Nothing). Little bit of reading. Little bit of writing. Little bit of homework. Lots of emails. Lots of resting to recover from my fun-filled weekend in Tel Aviv. Had dinner with my friend Navah. Watched an episode of The Wire with Max.

Monday: Yom Sheini

Hebrew homework. Meeting with Rebecca to start planning our seminar day on the Politics of Archaeology. (I'm embarrassed to admit that I have written this word maybe 50 times since being assigned to this topic and I still have to use spellcheck.) Hebrew lesson with Sharon. First lesson on the future tense. Very difficult. Made banana bread. Ate dinner with Max. (Vegetarian chili he made.) Drank mimosas (pre-shuk pancake party leftovers) with my neighbors upstairs. Talked politics. Watched an episode of The Wire with Max.

Tuesday: Yom Shlishi

Walked neighbors dog. Saved dog from being attacked by very scary cat. Meeting with Mara and Neil (and Rebecca) at Cup of Joe (cafe) to talk out preliminary logistics for Politics of Archaeology Day. Ate delicious muesli and yogurt (on Dorot). Sat in park and read. Learned with Noam Zion. Read the Torah. Talked about the Torah. Talked about the story of Sarah, Avraham, and Hagar (Noam calls it the Troubling Triangle.) Read midrashim (commentaries on and stories about the Torah), literary commentaries, and feminist criticisms on the story of Sarah, Avraham, and Hagar. Ate leftover chili for dinner. Took bus to Pardes for Aviva Zorenberg's weekly Parshat haShavuah (weekly Torah portion) class. Got there late and had to sit in the back. Had trouble concentrating. Watched an episode of The Wire with Max.

Wednesday: Yom Reve'i

Enjoyed full access to Max's computer. (He was volunteering with his co-worker Charlotte, helping 4-year-old Arab students pick olives.) Made contact with AACI/JELLY and might volunteer there. (Association of Americans and Canadiens in Israel/Jerusalem English Language Library for Youth.). Set up meeting for next Sunday. More Hebrew homework. Hebrew lesson. Strugged with past tense. Learned great new word. (I miss someone or something is meet-ga-a-ga-at.) Had unproductive, lazy afternoon. Went to the shuk. Ate dinner with Max. Decided not to go to Hartman Institute Open Beit Midrash. Did lots of paperwork for to get reimbursed by Dorot for things. Will probably watch an episode of The Wire with Max.

I meet-ga-a-ga-at you all!

Jerusalem is a funny place

2008-11-24T09:02:00.000-08:00

Jerusalem is a funny place.

-Yesterday, I rode the bus to have dinner with Navah. There was an Orthodox woman (except she was probably my age give or take a few years) on the bus with her 3 children. What is about being a mother that makes you want to talk about your children's bodily functions in public spaces? Just in case anyone is wondering, her daughter will be wearing a diaper tomorrow when they visit their friends even though she is potty trained because she might have an accident. But if she has to go, she should tell someone. And her son needs to do a better job of brushing each tooth, ("woosh woosh woosh" on each tooth) instead of quickly brushing the whole mouth ("swooosh").

- Apparently, I missed Jerusalem's premier High-Octane Jewish Rock concert. Is anyone else struck by the hilarity of the idea of Jewish rock? And what exactly is high-octane? It sounds like something I might put in my car.

- My friend Jen is insisting that we call our Thanksgiving feast "A Joint Celebration of Indigenous Peoples Day and Rosh Chodesh Kislev." I'm not sure if she's kidding or not. (Rosh Chodesh is the celebration of the new month on the Jewish calendar. The upcoming month is Kislev.)

- When describing fruits like raspberries or blueberries Israeli's call them "forest fruit" instead of "wildberries." Forest fruit sounds like something you might want to acquire in a video game, doesn't it?

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

2008-11-23T02:42:00.000-08:00

Hello again. Remember me? Oh, good. I'm glad you do. What have you missed? Oh, I'm so glad you asked.

The General Assembly

The General Assembly (GA) is an annual convention of Jewish leaders from federations across North America. Every 5 years, it is held in Jerusalem. I went 4 years ago, when the GA was in Cleveland, OH, for what ended up being a crash-course on the inner working of the Jewish world. This year, I was sponsored by Hillel in Israel (i.e. I went for free) but I found the whole thing kind of disappointing.

Highlights:
-I went to the Menachem Begin Center where I 1) learned about Menachem Begin and 2) was reminded how good Israel is at propoganda.
-I went to a session on Education in Israel, which will hopefully help me plan the Dorot seminar on Education in Israel.
-I saw Rabbi Sykes (former Director and Rabbi of Camp Ramah Darom), Rabbi Havivi (Max's Rabbi from Greensboro and my dear friend Daniel's daddy), Shari and Robin (two aquaintances from UNC who have since become very religious and go by Sarah Rivka and Ariel-Sara), Udi (a fellow counselor at Ramah Darom who is absolutely crazy), and many, many former campers from Ramah who are now on post-high school programs in Israel.
-I ate some free food.

Lowlights:
-I listened to a lot of boring people speak.
-I was angered by the propoganda presented to convince American Jews that the IDF can do no wrong.
-I waited in a lot of security lines because of all the Israeli "hot shots" that spoke at the opening and closing plenaries.
-The "cocktail hour and dinner party" was 700 people sitting on the floor eating hummus out of small plastic bowls and hotdogs. (I didn't eat the hotdogs.)

Aviva Zorenberg

I started going to a once-a-week class at Pardes on the Parsha HaShavua (weekly Torah portion) taught by a well-known scholar named Aviva Zorenberg. It was interesting, engaging, unique, and relevant ... and Aviva has a really charming British accent.

Hebrew Lessons

I started taking private Hebrew lessons with a woman named Sharon who is amazing!

Hartman English Open Beit Midrash

I went to an all-English open beit midrash at the Hartman Institute (where my teacher Noam Zion works).

Highlight:

-I did some really interesting chevruta-style learning with Kate and Shoshana, and realized that my Hebrew and text study skills are improving.

Lowlight:
-I have no idea what the speaker was talking about.

Iran Day

Last Thursday's seminar topic was Iran.

Highlights:

-We heard Lt. General Moshe Yaalon speak. Lt. General Yaalon served as the 17th chief of taff of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) from 2002 - 2005.
-We spoke to Eldad Pardo, an expert in the field of Iran and a man whose bio is too long for this blog.
-I ate delicious Iranian food at the shuk.
-We drove out to Har Adar, to the home of Menashe Amir, the former head of the Israel Broadcasting Authority's Person language division and the current chief editor of the Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs' Persian-language website.

Lowlights:
-I am feeling very conflicted about America's role in preventing Iran from gaining nuclear warfare capabilities.
-I am feeling very confused about Israel's role in preventing Iran from gaining nuclear warfare capabilities.
-Iran is a little scary.

Pancake Party

On Friday morning, Max and I hosted a pancake party.

Highlights:
-There were lots of delicious pancakes.
-There were lots of delicious toppings.
-There was a big, BIG bowl of mimosa.
-There were great people.

Lowlights:
-A lot of people didn't show up.

Weekend in Tel Aviv

Max and my friend Elliot invited us to the spend the weekend with him in Tel Aviv.

Highlights:
-Elliot, Yoshi, Alex, Max, and I had a delicious Shabbat dinner.
-We took a long walk to the beach, where we sat and drank cider until very, very late (or early).
-We had a delicious Shabbat lunch at Alex's house.
-We went to the mall and saw Woody Allen's new movie Vicky Christina Barcelona, which I liked a lot.
-We ate leftovers from our delicious Shabbat dinner (including strawberries which are finally in season!) with Elliot.

Lowlights:
-The weekend is over.

Oh, and I finally bought a computer! I probably won't have it for another month but somewhere in the distant future there is a computer for me.

You're Invited ....

2008-11-15T02:51:00.001-08:00

You're Invited to Max's and Alli's Pre-Shuk Pancake Party
Friday, November 21, 2008
10 am - 1 pm
Our place

Who says you can't party in the morning? Come to our neighborhood for pancakes (and mimosas and Irish coffee) before heading to the shuk for your Shabbos shopping.

BYOT (Bring Your Own Toppings): Toppings (syrup, bananas, chocolate chips, nuts, etc.) required for admission.

What if everyday was a wine tasting and a dance party?

2008-11-14T01:51:00.000-08:00

What a long day! Every Thursday is Dorot Day and every 6th Thursday is Community Day. Community Day is always devoted to planning the next 6 seminars, in addition to some kind of community-building-bonding-growing-as-a-group kind of thing.

This Thursday, it was Jake and my turn to execute the Community Day, which the Fellows have learned over the past 3 months is not nearly as easy as we thought it would be. We met at 9 at Pundak Besht, this cozy cafe/art space in downtown Jerusalem. Jake and I faciliated several hours of discussion and negotiation, voting and revoting, and assigning topics to dates and va'ads (committees.) By the time lunch rolled around, we had 8 topics:

-Education in Israel (Naamah and I are planning that one)
-Christianity and the Jewish World
-The Politics of Archaeology (planning this one with Rebecca)
-Israeli Politics and Political Systems
-Kabbalah and Mysticism
-Israeli Settlements
-What is Jewish Art?
-Who Is a Jew?: Politics and Power of the Rabbinate

Not bad? Definitely an exciting few months.

After lunch, we took a bus to the Ella Winery where we took a tour of their facilities and did a wine tasting. (Where I was reminded that there really is a difference between medicocre wine and the premium stuff.) Our wine tasting was followed by a "showcase," as we'd taken to calling it, of creative and artistic expressions of how we're experiencing Israel. Rebecca sang a song in Arabic that she learned at a conservatory in Morocco, Kate read a hilarious story inspired by our orientation at the Nevele Resort, Jake did a performance of a jazz-style poem ... a really memorable afternoon.

In the past, these Community Days have become stressful, anxiety evoking afternoons that leave all the Fellows feeling drained from hours of discussion and overanalysis of our decision-making processes. But Jake and I decided to fashion a slightly different event. I think we were successful in our attempts to create a relaxing, meaningful day ... although I'm sure the bottles of wine didn't hurt.

I threw myself stuff down on the bed when I returned to Jerusalem, and turned around almost immediately to go to my friend Jen's all-women dance party birthday celebration. It was a joint party for her and her classmate Shayna, which meant the dance floor was segregated in the 22+ crowd and Shayna's fresh out of high school, frum (very religious) friends. I couldn't help but observe the other half of the room with anthropoligical eyes ... while dancing crazily to mid-90s classics.

Shabbat is now upon me and I have to hunt down change for laundry, do my laundry, and buy challah and wine for dinner at Dena's. Shabbat shalom.

Book Recommendations

2008-11-12T02:46:00.000-08:00

Bel Canto by Ann Patchett: Beautifully written and almost musical. Made me wish I listened to opera. A very different love story.

Pigs in Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver: It turns out that Kingsolver writes as beautifully about tomatoes (re: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle) as she does about Cherokee Native Americans and motherly love.

Next on my list ... Yo! by Julia Alvarez.

Can you sprain a toe?

2008-11-11T09:07:00.000-08:00

I think I may have sprained my toe. Is that possible? I guess I'll consider it a souvenir from the Jordanian mountains.

I slept in this morning and decided to treat myself to a big bowl of oatmeal with bananas. I read Chapter 5-14 in Genesis, in preparation for my 1:30 meeting with Noam Zion at the Hartman Institute. I originally contacted Noam because a past Dorot Fellow suggested him as a possible tutor on the topic of the Jewish Life Cycle, which I am very interested in. We met about 3 weeks ago, and he convinced me that if I really need some Torah study under my belt. I got swept up in his enthusiasm and engaged teaching style and agreed. I'm not happy about having strayed from my original plans, but I love learning with Noam! I've been reading a few chapters of the Torah, which we discuss, and then we've been delving more deeply into one specific story in Genesis -- the story of Avram, Sarai, and Hagar. Noam Zion is the author of my favorite Hagaddah, A Different Night, which includes many different perspectives, criticisms, and even artwork. His teaching style is very similar. In addition to reading the story line by line (in Hebrew), we've been reading feminist critisms, sermons by African Americans preachers, and looking at artistic depictions of the story. We've been reading the Torah from a literary prospective, looking at this story as a way to understand human relationships.

Our two hour meeting whizzed by, as usual, and I caught a bus back to Nachlaot. Max and I watched an episodes of The Wire and then I made ginger-teryaki tofu stir-fry for dinner. I have a meeting at 8 in Baka, where I'm going to be "briefed" on the UJC General Assembly, which I'm attending next week (for free ... Hillel's sponsoring!) Check it out! http://www.ujc.org/page.aspx?id=16495

Bedouin Weekend: to Petra and Back

2008-11-09T10:26:00.001-08:00

After our Bedouin seminar ended on Thursday, Kate, Isra, Dena, Elliot, Alex, and I bid farewell to the other Dorot Fellows and hopped on the bus from Beer Sheva to Eilat. We stayed the night in a room with bunk beds in a little hostel right by the Eilat Center Bus Station.

In the morning, we took a taxi to the Israeli-Jordanian border. Thankfully, the border was rather uneventful, and we haggled successfully with some taxi drivers for an affordable ride to Petra. ("Where are you from?" the taxi driver asked. "America," we responded. "Ohh ... OBAMA!" he shouted excitedly.) The ride was my first experience of the true beauty of Jordan. Stunning mountains and rock formations jut up into the sky on both sides of the highway. We arrived in Petra, sad not to be gazing out onto the breathtaking Jordanian landscape, but glad to find a hostel.

We checked in the Petra Gate Hostel, a very affordable but clean and friendly hostel just a 10 minute walk from the Petra archaeological site. We were greeted by the owner, Mr. Nasser, who suggested a restaurant across the street for lunch. Al Arabi served up delicious hummus and pita, salad, and lentil soup.

Petra is an archaeological site considered by many to be one of the new wonders of the world. It was built by the Nabateans, who ruled the traderoutes in the area, nearly 2200 years ago, but it wasn't discovered until the early 19th century. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petra) Knowing that we needed a full day to see Petra, we grabbed a taxi to the second famous site in the area, fondly known as "Little Petra." Little Petra is a slightly smaller version of the official site, beautiful and impressive but not quite as gradiose.

At Little Petra we explored the caves and tombs and stared with gaping mouths at the intricate facades carved into the rock. At one point, we climbed up a 2000 year old staircase to get a better view of the gorge. On the way down, however, I got incredibly uncomfortable with the height and slippery steps and froze. One of the Bedouin tour guides, who spoke no English at all, scurried up the steps, took my hand gently, and led me down to safety. We befriended him and his cousins, and walked the rest of the way, listening to their stories of Bedouin life in Petra.

We ate dinner in the hostel, and then headed out to enjoy the Petra nightlife. We stumbled upon Sanabel Bakery (which was highly recommended in many of the guidebooks) and bought a boxfull of cookies and Jordanian pastries. We took our bounty to a coffee shop where we watched a bad American movies with Arabic subtitled and drank tea.

The next morning we arose early for our day in Petra. We ate a light breakfast at the hostel and walked the 10 minutes downhill to the archaelogical site. The place was hopping with tourists from all over the world, and once we entered we understood why. Every corner led us to something more beautiful and impressively preserved. But the Nabatean and Roman structures were just a fraction of the beauty of Petra, where the rocks and mountains and walls of the gorges rise up to dizzy heights. At about 2 we found ourselves at the bottom of a mountain, at the top of which is the "Monastery," considered to be the most impressive building in Petra. But the 800 steps to the top, after a long day of walking, were not a possibility, so we rode donkeys to the top!

The Monestary was truly magnificent. We sat on benches in a little cafe at the top of the mountain, marveling at its size and chatting with some of the local Bedouins. Tasir, one of the Bedouin men who led our donkeys to the top of the mountain, convinced us to walk a bit further up the mountain to the famed view of the "end of the world." It was, possibly, the most beautiful place I've stood. (Although, with that beauty, came the fear of falling off the cliff.) We watched the sunset over the Jordanian mountains, illuminating Aaron's tomb in the distance. Tasir and his brothers made us Bedouin tea, cooked over an open fire, and then led our group back down the mountain.

We convinced Tasir and his wife Maria to join us for dinner. We returned to Al Arabi, but discovered that when you go with locals the experience is completely different. The soup was hotter, the hummus better, the service faster ... and the meal half the price! We exchanged email addresses with Tasir because, even though he and his wife spent 5 out of 7 nights in a cave on the top of the mountain where we met them, they have cell phones and email addresses like the rest of the world.

We returned to Israel the next morning. I crossed the border without any problems and received another 3 month tourist visa, although my friend Isra, an Iranian-Jew, was questioned for about half an hour by a brisk Israeli soldier. Before we boarded the bus for our 5 hour ride back to Jerusalem, we sat on the Eilat shore, gazing across the water at the Jordanian mountains and the Jordanian flag flapping in the distance.

Bedouin Day

2008-11-06T09:58:00.000-08:00

On Thursday morning I awoke at an ungodly hour to meet the Dorot crew for our regularly scheduled seminar day. This Thursday had been lovingly christened "Bedouin Day" and was exactly that.

We first traveled to Wadi El Na'am, an unrecognized Bedouin village south of Beer Sheva, where we received a tour from an environmental organization that works with the Bedouin community. Wadi El Na'am was truly third world, and the situation of Bedouins (who are Israeli citizens) in unrecognized villages in the State of Israel is truly disheartening. After lunch we met with Sarab Abu-Rabia-Queder, the first Bedouin woman in Israel to earn her PhD. Sarab was really able to articulate the dynamics, especially gender relationships, within the Bedouin community. Our day ended in Rahat, the largest recognized Bedouin village in Israel, where we met and talked one on one with young Bedouin woman about their lives there.

The situation is hard to grapple with. The Bedouin community was here long before the establishment of the State of Israel, but their claims to the land, which has oftentimes been in their family for hundreds of years, are disputed because the Bedouins do not have paper deeds. The government persuaded, in some cases, and forced, in others, hundreds of thousands of Bedouins to leave their lands (and, in essence, their entire Bedouin culture) in exchange for a condensed community with all the advantages of modern living -- houses, running water, electricity, transportation, health care, education, etc. The Bedouins that refused to leave their land live in truly horrible conditions, which is only exacerbated by the health issues they experience due to the chemical plants the state has built in their area. And the Bedouins who now live in the cities created for them for the government have sacrificed their land and culture for only part of what was promised to them. Rahat, for example, has minimal public transportation, no insurance office, and only one post office for it's 30,000 residents.

It begs a lot of questions about our right to the land and our responsibility to all the citizens of the State of Israel.

Bedouin day officially ended as the sunset and we sipped the last drops of delicious Bedouin tea. But in reality, the next few days should have been called Bedouin Weekend.

A Long Night of History in the Making

2008-11-05T05:22:00.000-08:00

I'm having trouble believing that 3 pm yesterday was really only 24 hours ago.

Yesterday afternoon I went to a learning session with Noam Zion, this incredible tutor with whom I'm learning a little Torah (and hopefully some Jewish life cycle studies.) And then I had a phone meeting with Steve (the Director of the Dorot Fellowship in Israel). I know, logically, that was yesterday but my eyelids haven't quite gotten the message.

Max and I went to Tel Aviv last night, first to have dinner with his family. It was quite the affair! A fancy dinner with fancy guests (including a recent winner of the prestigious Israel Prize). I think we missed a lot of good stories because we couldn't follow the Hebrew.

Then we went to our friend Elliot's apartment for a brief nap before trekking to Mike's Place (a bar near the American Embassy in Tel Aviv) to watch the election results roll in through the night. The bar was packed with Obama fans (and one McCain support) whose eyes were glued to CNN until the early hours of the morning.

It was one of those nights I'll remember forever. In part because I've never left a bar at 6 am. And because the sun rose over the Meditteranean just minutes before CNN announced Obama's victory. And because I really feel like I witnessed something big in American history. The bar closed before Obama's big speech in Chicago, so we taxied to a friend's apartment and watched it there. I don't know if it's because I hadn't slept, or because there hasn't been a truly motivational figure in my lifetime, or because he truly is an amazing speaker but I had tears in my eyes. Mrs. Sheppard (my 9th and 11th grade English teacher and one of the best educators and mentors I've had) emailed me today. She called Obama "energizing" and, considering that this election kept me up through hours of the morning I rarely witness, I couldn't agree more.

The Other Side of the Wall

2008-10-31T01:15:00.000-07:00

I just got back from Bethlehem. I'm ashamed to admit it but my reasons for not telling anyone about it beforehand ran much deeper than my current lack of computer. I didn't want to bear the burden of the worrying that I knew would ensue if I announced "oh hey, by the way, I'm going to the Palestinian territories tomorrow." And I think I have always avoided talking about Israeli politics with my family and most of my friends, not only for fear of disagreement but for fear of apathy. (And insecurities I have about my own lack of knowledge about the conflict.)

Encounter Programs is an educational organization dedicated to providing Jewish Diaspora leaders and emerging leaders across the religious and political specture with exposure to Palestinian life. They have brought approximately 560 participants on trips to engage with Palestinians face-to-face and witness the reality of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict first hand. Encounter is now directed by two former Dorot Fellows.

Our group of 40 is the most recent to join the Encounter Programs Alumni Network. I was surprised to discover, when I walked in Hebrew Union College on the Sunday before our trip for our orientation, that I knew about a third of the group. All 12 Dorot Fellows, the 3 Dorot SO's (significant others), and a handful of people I've met at various learning institutions and social gatherings (including two people from my ulpan class).

The trip felt much longer than the 36 hours it really was. We started the day with a visit to Tent of Nations, an organization that strives to build bridges of understanding and communication to provide a route to peaceful coexistence. We took a bus tour of the Bethlehem area and a walking tour of the seperation barrier with Friend of the Earth Middle East. We heard a lecture by a member of the Palestinian Negotiations Support Unit, who gave an overview of the current issues with the Israeli Palestinian situation. We played cooperative games and then ate dinner with our Palestinian host families and Palestinian teenagers from the neighboring areas. We were welcoming with overwhelming hospitality into the homes of Palestinian families. We heard the personal narratives from several Palestinian peace activists. We spoke to a member of the municipal council of al-Walaje, a Palestinian town about to be literally run over by the seperation barrier. And in between all that we spoke to each other - in a large circle, in small groups, and in pairs - about the experience of encountering Palestine.

For many of the other participants, who'd never met a Palestinian, who'd never seen a map of the settlements popping up all over the West Bank, who were only just beginning to grapple with how to be critical of Israel, it was very new. Watching that kind of transformation in my fellow emerging Jewish leaders was a powerful experience.

For me the information wasn't new but the experience was. What I have to say could fill a book. And my time at the computer at the Civic Center library is almost up. But for now, I will leave you with this thought. I think the North American Jewish community is scared that they can't portray Israel in a positive light if they teach the reality of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. If they admit that parts of the map, the map that hangs in every Sunday school and day school classroom, are contested. If they teach about the seperation barrier and the settlements. If they even mention Palestinians in any light other than terrorism. But this is dangerous in a very real way. Ilana, the Director of Encounter Programs, says she lives here because it's hard. And that her love for Israel grows everyday, as does her hatred for it. Because being critical of Israel and holding it to the highest of standards is a much more powerful than a blind love for this country.

In lieu of flowers please send a harddrive

2008-10-27T07:06:00.000-07:00

My computer died. This probably explains my absence from email, Skype, this blog, and life in general. I discovered that I can use the computers at the community center across the street for only 5 shekels an hour (which is what I'm doing right now) but it's not the same.

Since the death of my computer, life in Israel has resumed to the normal pace that countries have when they don't take breaks for holidays every few days.

On Thursday, we had our first Dorot seminar in a long time. It was on Literary Movements in Israel. We took a walking tour around Israel to see the houses of people very influential to modern Hebrew and modern Hebrew literature, like those of Eliezer Ben Yehuda (a key figure in the revival of Hebrew as a modern spoken language) and Rav Kook (the first chief rabbi of Palestine under British Mandate and poet) and locations mentioned in books and poems by modern Israeli authors like Amos Oz.

Our tour ended at Tmol Shilshom, a bookstore/cafe named after Nobel laureate S.Y. Agnon's novel. Besides the amazing cuisine, Tmol Shilshom (translated to "those were the days") is a sort of hub for the literary scene in Jerusalem and has hosted many many famous Jewish and Israeli authors. (The owner told us an amazing story about a young man who sat in the bookstore for months writing a book. One day he stopped showing up. The owner saw him on the street one day and confirmed his suspicions that hopeful author could not afford to buy coffee anymore. The owner generously encouraged the young man to return to Tmol Shilshom and provided him with a free space to write. His faith in the man was rewarded when he bounded into the cafe one day to announce that his book was to be published in 2000. The man was Nathan Englander, who has received many awards for his collection of short stories, For the Relief of Unbearable Urges, and his novel, the Ministry of Special Cases.) At the cafe, we heard two young, up-and-coming poets read some of their work, and were treated to a 3-course meal!

After lunch we took a much needed walk to Matt's house where we met with a professional translator of Hebrew poetry. And then we had a writing workshop during which I wrote a (very basic) poem completely in Hebrew!

On Friday, I took the bus to visit my camp friend Ruth at her parent's house on a moshav in the North. We watched a lot of movies and talked about camp, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching her family interact in a strange combination of Hebrew and English. (They made aliyah when Ruth was 7.)

Yesterday, I finally volunteered at Carmei Ha'ir. It was crazy! They threw me in immediately as a waitress and I spent 2 hours running around trying to serve people soup and take their "orders" (it's still a soup kitchen ... they get a choice of chicken or fish) and remember to bring them new silverware. All in Hebrew, by the way. With a very slippery floor. There were so many people and everything was happening so fast that I didn't really have time to process how crazy the whole thing was. But it was really fulfilling. These people are incredibly grateful not only for a meal (possibly their only meal of the day) but for the experience to eat in it a place that gives them a little bit of autonomy, normalcy, and dignity.

Oh, my time at this computer is up! Love and miss you all.

Ktstat B'Bayit B'Yerushalyim

2008-10-20T03:28:00.000-07:00

Today I felt uncharacteristically “b’bayit” (at home) in Jerusalem. I woke up with the sun streaming in through the (still curtainless) windows. I made myself a cup of tea (with the huge bag of loose leaf black tea I bought at the shuk for 3.5 shekels, approx. $1) and enjoyed the New York Times (thank you Colin Powell for endorsing Obama.)

I spent the morning researching hotels in Paris, for the trip to France that my mom and I will be taking in December, and being stumped by Spider Solitaire. Max called from work, nervous that the busses would stop running earlier than usual, due to Simchat Torah. So I begrudgingly changed out of my pajamas and headed into town to figure out the bus schedule for the day.

I walked through the shuk toward Yaffo St. where I knew I would find a bus. Sure enough, the 20 came whizzing down the street toward the crowd of grocery carrying Israelis. Now, here’s something you must understand. Israeli bus drivers are not patient people. They will often close the door right in your face if they decide you are just too slow. Sometimes they close the door right on you if you’re fast enough to get on the bus but just can’t seem to wiggle past the elderly Jewish woman with the cane. So I knew that asking the bus driver about the schedule was all about timing. I couldn’t get on too early or I’d hold up the people behind me (and get yelled at) but if I lingered too long in the doorway the bus driver would close the door behind me and take me to wherever it is the 20 goes.

As I was calculating this, a man, who was frantically trying to catch the 20, dropped all of his grocery bags on the sidewalk. (See? This is what happens when you live in constant fear of getting smashed in the doorway of a bus.) I helped him pick up his can of olives and orange flavored beverage, and, while he and an Israeli lady with impressively frizzy hair attempted to retrieve a wine bottle from under the bus, I saw my chance.

Me: Slicha … yeshli she’ala. (Excuse me … I have a question.)
Bus driver stared at me with an annoyed expression.
Me: Ad aza sha’ah ha-autobusim nosim hayom? (Until what hour do the busses ride today?)
(Now here was the real test. It’s one thing for me to actually know enough Hebrew to communicate something. It’s another for the Israeli to understand me.)
Bus driver: Shalosh b’revah (3:15 pm)
Me: Todah.

It worked! The achievement isn’t so much that I knew the Hebrew. (2 months in the country I’d better know some.) But I didn’t have to sit on a bench preparing the sentence and practicing it over and over again in my head. That is the real success.

Having spoken only to the answering machine at Ulpan Milah and received several autoreply “I am out of the office until after the holidays” emails earlier that morning, I began to suspect that today was not a day I was going to get anything done. So I walked back through the shuk toward Carmei Ha’ir, thinking that, perhaps, soup kitchens keep slightly longer hours than the rest of the city. The door was open, so I nervously walked inside.

Man: Shalom?
Me: Shalom.
Man: Ken? (Yes?)
Me: Ummm … slicha, ani medeberet Ivrit ktsat aval ani rotzah lehitnadev hayom im atem tzrichim. (Ummm ... sorry, I only speak a little Hebrew but I want to volunteer today if you need.)

I won’t bore you with a long transliterated conversation, but the man was extremely excited about my wanting to volunteer. He told me there wasn’t anything to do today but that I could come back on Wednesday.

Just as I was leaving, Isra called to invite Max and I to a Simchat Torah potluck at her apartment, so I went to the shuk to pick up some eggs for the quiche she requested that I bring. I ran into a few girls I know who invited me to a party and wished me “chag sameach” (happy holiday) and then I ran into Esther Brownstein, head of the Israeli staff at Ramah Darom. She helped me locate the Israeli equivalent of sour cream and took my phone number. “We’ll do Shabbos dinner,” she said. I bought peppers and onions from my favorite grapefruit man (he sells more than grapefruits, obviously) and a bar of dark chocolate.

Back at home, I made my quiche, played with FatCat (my landlord’s cat whose real name I don’t know), and took a nap.

At 6:30, Max and I made the 35 minute walk to Emek Refaim where Isra lives. Isra hasn’t found a permanent living situation, but she is currently subleasing a very cute apartment that is, for all intents and purposes, in a bakery. At least, it’s in the same alleyway as a bakery.

Dinner at Isra’s was wonderful! Isra invited Kate as well, who brought her Israeli housemate. And Isra’s Israeli cousin and dog Sawyer completed the group. Isra made salmon, which was a nice treat, because I’m too afraid to buy the fish from the shuk (where they cut the head off right in front of you and the live fish are flopping around in the back.) Kate’s housemate’s sweet potato pancakes, my quiche, and a big salad (and lots of wine) complemented the fish nicely, as did the challah and heart shaped cookies from Isra’s bakery neighbors.

One of the main topics at dinner was Rabbis for Human Rights, who organize volunteers to help Palestinians harvest olives in places where they often feel threatened by Israeli settlers. There were two talking points for our criticism of this endeavor. One, they don’t really “organize” volunteers, because that would imply at least a minimum standard of organized infrastructure. It’s all very haphazard. They send out a panicky email that gets forwarded around. “There are people who are afraid to pick without us. This is an issue of human rights.” You call to sign up but they really give you any details. And each person’s story contains some element of “I didn’t really know where I was going” or “why I was going” or “what I was supposed to do once I got there.”

I’m still pretty vague on the details. As far as I understand, there are Palestinians whose livelihood depends on the harvest of these olives. They legally own these olive orchards and have the Israeli government’s permission to harvest them (at least in most cases.) They often request the permission of the Israeli government or third-party human rights organizations to protect them from Israeli settlers who throw rocks and provoke violence. The Palestinians are certainly not blameless. They too instigate violence, but they are the powerless force in this situation. The government, the military, the system of law – it’s not theirs.

This was the second talking point of the evening. Recently, a group similar to Rabbis for Human Rights made the news because 2 journalists and one female volunteer were injured in a fight between Palestinian olive harvesters and settlers. The AP version of the story says that an investigation is being launched, but the story that ran in Ha’aretz (one of Israeli’s English language newspapers) did not. This is a regular occurrence during olive season, and, as far as I can tell, the settlers go completely unpunished for their actions.

http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5gtrn3kQw1hdbLltl0FVz9tvR5s7AD93TEK9O0

I think the severity of the problem created by Israeli settlers is very much under the radar of Jewish (and non-Jewish) Americans. It certainly was for me, until I stood on the top of a mountain and looked down at a settlement’s construction site in the middle of rolling hills in the West Bank. Several entries should, and probably will, be devoted to this issue. But for now, know that I think Israeli settlers are doing the biggest disservice possible to Israel. If there is any hope for a two-state solution and peace in this area of the world, the Israeli government has to stop sitting idly by while Israeli settlers build huge neighborhoods on top of Palestinian soil. In many cases, the goal of the Israeli settlers is to build enough settlements to drive a wedge through Palestinian land, making impossible a contiguous Palestinian state – and any hope for peace.

Highlights

2008-10-18T09:53:00.000-07:00

Highlights from the last few days:

-I finally found Carmei Ha’ir (the soup kitchen-restaurant) at 72 Agrippas, which is, incidentally, no where near 71 or 73 Agrippas.

-Mara (Dorot staff) and Josh (her fiancé) hosted all the Dorot Fellows and D.S.O. (Dorot Significant Others) for a surprisingly gourmet dinner in their sukkah. Quiche, steamed green beans with sesame seeds, fresh fig and Roquefort cheese salad, roasted squash with cinnamon, couscous with chick peas and goat yogurt … delicious!

-I went to the Old City to see my friend Alex perform in a show called Voices from Our Side of the Curtain: Exploring the Lives of Orthodox Women. The show was modeled after the Vagina Monologues, and featured 10 monologues performed by fairly amateur actresses (all of whom are actually Orthodox Jewish women – except Alex.) The monologues were so poignant, so real. Cancer, infertility, abusive husbands, the confines of the religious community, feminism. It was so empowering, in many of the ways the V-Monologues are, but it touched so much closer to home.

-I had lunch with my friend Navah in a sukkah – at a restaurant.

-Max and I went to a big Sukkot Party at Mara and Josh’s (clearly the center of our social life for the week.) A few Dorot Fellows and D.S.O.’s showed up, but mostly it was Mara and Josh’s friends. I chatted with past Dorot Fellows, met a few Wexner Fellows (a Fellowship similar to Dorot but for Jewish professionals, that our former NC Hillel Director Or Mars now directs) and sang and made s’mores around a campfire (with lots of wonderful people who are not some kind of Fellow.)

-Max and I had a wonderful vegetarian Shabbat dinner with our friend Alex and her roommate. I’m sure not everyone’s mouths would water over tofu and pumpkin rice pilaf but I could not have been happier.

Sukkot in the Park

2008-10-14T03:14:00.000-07:00

“What do secular Jews do on Sukkot?” I’d asked a few days ago. It’s the same question that plagues me on Shabbat, when an eerie calm filters through the city, and the secular Jews must be at home eating dinner and watching a B-list American movie with Hebrew subtitles on Israeli cable.

Tuesday was an unusually warm day, which Max thought the Orthodox Jews in Jerusalem would take as a good sign for Sukkot (when our Orthodox neighbors eat, study, and sleep in their sukkot.) We decided that the sukkah-dwellers shouldn’t be the only ones to enjoy the good fortune of 70-something degree weather and a cloudless sky, so Max and I set out to have a picnic in the park.

And that was when my question was answered. The hills of Gan Sacher were speckled with secular Israeli families – abbas barbequing and imas pulling children around on little plastic tricycles. (Note: I only observe the tradition gender roles, I don’t create them.) Middle school boys skateboarding down the sidewalk and high school girls screeching excitedly in the direction of the ice cream truck parked in the park’s corner lot. We picked a nice spot of grass, ate our sandwiches, and read our books – although I eventually abandoned my novel for people watching.

In the evening, after the city stumbled out of its Sukkot stupor, Max and I went downtown to get frozen yogurt on Ben Yehuda. What is usually an incredibly lively district was swarming with hundreds of extra people, most of whom appeared to wealthy American (and British and South African) Jews who had made their annual trek to Jerusalem for the holidays.

I’m ashamed to admit it but I was embarrassed to be associated with this crowd. They’re loud and a little tactless and have no shame in speaking English (with increasing volume when non-English speaking Israelis don’t understand) everywhere they go. “I’m not one of them!” I wanted to scream, to the Israeli behind the ice cream counter. I’m living here, learning Hebrew, trying to understand and appreciate Israeli society. But they’re Jews too and they have as much right to be here as I do … if we have any right at all.

Wayside Stories in Jerusalem

2008-10-13T11:41:00.000-07:00

This morning feels like forever ago. I woke up at 5:20 am with the intention of volunteering with Rabbis for Human Rights but, due to an embarrassing mistake on my part and overbooking on theirs, I returned home at 7 am having done little except take a bus to Liberty Bell Park, buy yogurt at a gas station, and get back on a bus.

I fell back asleep and didn’t wake up again until 10:30 am – the latest I’ve slept in a very long time. I was supposed to have tea with my friend Navah, but a complication with the bus schedule left her without time to meet me. Instead, I convinced Max to eat lunch with me at Carmei Ha’ir (the soup kitchen-restaurant mentioned in an earlier entry.) Anyone can eat there, I’ve been told, and I thought it would be valuable to experience the establishment before announcing that I want to volunteer there. With address in hand – 72 Rechov Agrippas – Max and I headed out.

We turned left onto our street (Rechov Rav Aryeh) and right onto the next street (I don’t know it’s name … I call it the street that Jake and Shoshana live on) and left, where we found ourselves standing, as we always do when we’re going to the shuk, in the alleyway perpendicular to Agrippas (with a clear view of Agrippas’ most popular establishment – Marzipan Bakery.) I had no idea where on Agrippas we were so I looked up to my right: 73 Agrippas. I looked to my left: 71 Agrippas. Wayside Stories anyone?[1]

There is a purple door in the alleyway that could have been the entrance, but I think it’s always good to call before walking through strange purple doors.

We then headed down Jaffa St. to the post office, so Max could mail his ballot. (That’s one more vote for Obama in North Carolina.) It was closed (thank you Sukkot) but in the building where the post office is located we found an entire mall. The mall is fairly narrow, five stories tall, almost completely empty, and very, very bizarre. Highlights of the mall: 5 or 6 computer shops (none of which had Max’s express card but one of which had a very strange smell), a Russian video rental store, a mannequin dressed in a green nurse’s scrubs and a chef’s hat, a pet store with a lot of fish, and a porn shop.

After our strange mall adventure, we went to the shuk to buy food for lunch and dinner. Now, I don’t want to brag, but … I do. I made homemade pita chips (ok, I didn’t make the pita, but I did convert the pita into chip form) and homemade guacamole. I served it all like they do in the Arab Israeli restaurants, with hummus and slices of vegetables to dip.

The best part is, it was incredibly cheap! It’s like Jerusalem for 40 Shekels a Day!

3 Pitas = 1.5 shekels

2 Avocados = 4 shekels

2 Tomatoes = 2 shekels

1 Onion = 1 shekel

1 Cucumber = 1/2 shekel

1 Spicy Pepper = 1 shekel

1 Lemon = 1 shekel

Hummus (2 servings) = 2 shekels

Staples (olive oil, salt, pepper, cumin, etc.) = negligible

Total = 13 shekels

Total per person = 6.5 shekels (about $1.85)

And then the city shut down again. It’s Sukkot and like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and Shabbos, everything stops. It’s peaceful and serene, but Max and I twiddling our thumbs trying to find things to do. We have a Sukkah party to attend on Wednesday, but tonight it looks like a frozen pizza and movie night.

[1] For those of you who are not between the ages of, let’s say, 18 – 30, there is an anecdote in one of books in the Wayside Story series in which a student in sent to deliver a note to a teacher on the 13^th floor, which does not exist. If you have read or seen any of the Harry Potter books/movies, you can insert an allusion to Platform 9 ¾ if you’d like.)

Sunday is Yom Rishon

2008-10-12T13:43:00.000-07:00

Today was my last day of Ulpan for 2 weeks because, let me tell you, Israelis take their Sukkot very seriously. There were very few people in class today. They didn’t miss very much, minus a pretty intense conversation (in Hebrew) about how people in modern society don’t read books like they used to.

I spent the afternoon preparing for my 5 PM meeting with Mara and Neil (Dorot staff.) Every month or two, we have advisory meetings with Neil and Mara to check in, plan for the year, discuss where we’re going in life. Everyday conversations, right?

My last meeting with Mara and Neil was not so smooth. I had only been in the country a week or so, and I had been woken up the previous morning at 4 am by a phone call. I was stressed and all over the place. This meeting, however, was much better.

I was asked to come prepared to discuss my strengths and weaknesses, which is not as easy feat. It’s really difficult to look a person in the face and say, “I am good at …” and “I really struggle with …” in a way that is genuine and real and not job interview jargon.

I was surprised to hear that I have been in Ulpan long enough now that if I feel it is not the best use of my time, I can opt for a different method of learning Hebrew. Perhaps a private tutor. I hadn’t even considered the possibility and I’m not sure what I think. I have complaints about Beit Ha’am, sure, but I really enjoy the diverse atmosphere and the community of Hebrew learners. I think I’m going to enroll in a 1 or 2 hour a week Conversational Hebrew course at another Ulpan. We’ll see where I go from there.

We discussed my options for volunteering, and Neil and Mara were very supportive of my current interest: Carmei Ha’ir. Carmei Ha’ir is a soup kitchen disguised as a restaurant which attempts to restore the lost dignity of tens of thousands of impoverished individuals in Israel and to establish a network that can provide comprehensive assistance those in need. Check them out at www.carmeihair.org.il.

The most exciting part of the meeting was our discussion of the Jewish learning component of my year. I am in the process of developing a self-direction project that will allow me to study Jewish life cycle events. Judaism provides such a rich and beautiful framework for everything from birth to death, and it’s something I would like to learn more about. More details to come.

Shabbat in the Old City

2008-10-11T15:14:00.000-07:00

I had grand plans for this morning. To wake up early and take a shower. To walk across town to Yakar: the Center for Tradition and Creativity for Shabbat morning services. To take advantage of Yakar’s matchmaking service which pairs people without a place for Shabbat lunch with those willing to host.

But then it was early. And the idea of getting out of my bed to trek across town made me only sink further into my pillow. So, Yakar didn’t happen. Instead, I made French toast for Max and I with the leftover challah from last night’s dinner. Of course, it was oven-baked French toast since our gas stove situation is still unresolved. I lounged around the rest of the morning, reading and listening to Max read me the news and writing a bit.

Around noon, Max and I decided to head out – out to the Old City. Sometimes I worry that I am becoming accustomed to this city and am forgetting to take notice of its spectacular-ness. But when the Old City rises in the distance it’s hard not to be a little awe-struck at the reality that I am in Jerusalem. The Holy City to a huge percentage of the world’s population. A very ancient and special place.

We navigated our way through the Muslim Quarter to a restaurant at which Max ate with some of his work colleagues. I found myself in a quaint and very authentic Arab Israeli restaurant where I was served lots of pita, falafel, veggies, and a huge bowl of hummus. And it was all delicious. We stopped a bit to look at the kaleidoscope of items for sale in the market. But after we were nearly trampled twice by large tour groups we decided to say goodbye to the Old City.

Max and I played a game of chess, which was difficult not only because Max is much better than I am but because my landlord was having a crying, hiccupping, screaming conversation with someone. We could hear the whole thing but between the tears and the rambling Hebrew, I have no idea what it was about. (An even stranger twist the story: About an hour later I was standing in the window looking up a recipe for pita chips on the internet and I saw the landlord greet a man with a ponytail in the door. He stroked her hair and looked longingly into her eyes. She leaned into his chest ... and then some serious lip action. You should know that our landlord is a no-nonsense about anything, single mom, university professor and this was all quite out of character.)

After dinner, Max and I went to our friend Yoshi’s housewarming party. He lives with 2 art students in an apartment on King George St. – it’s a great space minus the noise of the city that filters in through the windows. Yoshi made homemade cider and provide us with lots of ginger snap cookies. There were a lot of great people I hadn’t met before, and a lot of wonderful people I already knew. Lots of music, lots of Jewish geography, lots of fun.

Shabbos Shoom D'var!

2008-10-11T07:54:00.000-07:00

The end of Yom Kippur ushered in the beginning of yet another Shabbos in Jerusalem. Last week, in my Ulpan class, we read a little article about “Yom Shishi” (Friday) in Jerusalem, which explained that only 30% of Israelis work on Friday, a day devoted to food shopping and other errands and to trips to the movies and the mall. On this Friday, Max and I joined the Jerusalem masses, and took the bus to Kenyon Malcha: the Jerusalem Mall.

The Jerusalem Mall, a 3-story structure bookended by a Toys R Us and a Home Depot, is a pretty far bus ride outside of central Jerusalem. Our main goal was to find something for Max something electronic and complicated that I don’t understand … an express card (a new version of a PCI/PCM card) that will give his computer fire-wire capabilities. But the trip to the mall was a cultural experience of sorts, especially considering that Israel ranks 3^rdin the world for mall space per capita. We did not find the express card, but we did check out the price of wireless routers. And I bought a box of pens.

The bus dropped Max off on Ben Yehuda where he met a former camper for lunch, and dropped me on by the shuk. I know I’ve described the shuk’s zoo-like quality in many previous entries but let me assure you that those were petting-zoo days compared to this one. I think a lot of out-of-town visitors come to Jerusalem for the High Holidays, and apparently they all feel the need to shop at the shuk on Friday afternoon. I escaped with my tofu, quart of milk, and challah – and only a few minor battle wounds.

I needed to wind down, so I turned to my new choice of reading material: James Baldwin’s Go Tell It On the Mountain, which I purchased at a used bookstore a few days ago. It is hailed as the first book to be written about African Americans from a non-racial point of a view – and a milestone in American literature. Baldwin’s grandiose religious language is a little hard to get used to, but the characters are captivating.

After a few chapters of Go Tell It On the Mountain (Max was disappointed to discover is not Tell It TO the Mountain, which, in the vein of “talk to the hand,” he argues is a much better title), and then decided to try my luck again at finding some affordable curtain rods. Most of the stores that would sell that type of thing were already closing, but my disappointment was turned around by a phone call from Sammy!

I completely lost track of time while talking to Sam, and realized at around 4:15 pm that I should hang up if I had any hope of buying dessert for Shabbat dinner. But I had forgotten that after we “fell back” with our clocks (Israel does day lights saving too), Shabbat starts much earlier, and I turned the corner to find the shuk almost completely abandoned mid-afternoon. I remembered that there is a little candy shop in the middle of the shuk that is always the last to close, so I jogged down one of the corridors to buy a dark chocolate bar. From the distance, I could see that the candy store was in fact open. But out of nowhere, a charedi man (a very religious man dressed in a black hat) appeared. He was flaring his arms and shouting, “SHABBOS! SHOOM D’VAR! SHABBOS! SHOOM D’VAR,” which essentially means, “IT’S SHABBAT! NOTHING!” I decided not to engage in an argument about how I still had 15 minutes before Shabbos began and could in fact purchase my candy bar, and walked out of the shuk.

Back at the apartment, I decided to start cooking dinner, which with only 2 burners and one very small oven, often takes longer than expected. On the menu for dinner: tofu stir-fry with a garlic-ginger teriyaki sauce, brown rice, sautéed cinnamon apples, and challah. I made the sauce and marinated the tofu. I washed and chopped the red peppers and mushrooms and onions and carrots. I minced the garlic and the ginger. I measured out the rice. But when I turned on the gas stove – nothing. No gas. No flame. Shoom d’var.

Max managed to quell my temporary flip out, and I turned to a rather impromptu Plan B, which was no rice, oven-baked tofu and vegetables, an improvised tzimmes-dish. I missed the brown rice, the oven was too small for me to make a dish large enough for leftovers, and the tofu didn’t have a crispy brown exterior, but all in all it was quite delicious.

Shabbats in Jerusalem has been a little lonely lately. I haven’t quite figured out how to navigate the culture of inviting oneself to a friend’s Shabbos dinner, and there haven’t been a lot of invitations from the community. It’s also a little frustrating to be a non-Shabbat-observant person in a city that (almost) completely shuts down for 24 hours.

But I’d heard rumors of a few restaurants that stayed open on Shabbat, so, after dinner, Max and I, threw on sweatshirts (the temperature has been quickly dropping) and headed downtown. We were pleasantly surprised to find many restaurants, coffee shops, and bars open. (My friend Navah and I went to a delicious waffle shop a few days ago, and I secretly hoped it was open but it was not.) We finally settled on a corner table in little coffee shop called Riff-Raff. We ordered hot chocolate (which came as steamed milk and a chunk of chocolate with the hot chocolate drinker gets to mix together) and read our books and pondered about the upcoming election and strategized about what to do with our defective oven (or empty gas tank.)

If anyone would like to follow in Sammy’s footsteps and give me a call, it’s very easy. You can put money on your Skype account using a credit card or PayPal. And then you can call me at 052-619-9431 for only a few cents a minute. If you have lots of friends or family abroad, you can buy a months subscription for about $10 and have unlimited calls anywhere in the world.

Yom Kippur

2008-10-11T07:41:00.000-07:00

I went to the shuk on Wednesday morning, fully expecting it to be busy but not anticipating the near-panic that apparently seizes the city of Jerusalem in the hours before Yom Kippur. I escaped with my much-needed groceries and headed home to make quiche for our before-fast dinner.

Max and I trekked, quiche in hand, to the German Colony where we joined about half of the Dorot Fellows for a pre-fast feast. Isra, who hosted the event, also had us read a very unique “vidui” (like a recounting and apology of sins) published by Rabbis for Human Rights. It recognized many larger problems we have in society, that are often overlooked because it’s much easier to take responsibility for individual actions over community ones. Definitely a nice addition to the day. After dinner, several of us headed to Kol HaNeshama – one of the few reform synagogues in Jerusalem – for Kol Nidre. It was a very lovely service and very reminiscent of my days at Temple Beth Emet.

After Kol Nidre and the tradition after-service milling around, Kate and I decided to take the long walk home down King George St. to our respective homes. It’s hard to fully explain the grandeur of the City of Jerusalem on Yom Kippur. The entire city shuts down. Every traffic light in the city blinks yellow. There are no television or radio stations streaming out the windows. And there isn’t a car on the street. Everywhere, people are walking in the middle of road and children and riding their bicycles in the middle of intersections usually crowded with cars. Imagine what it would look like if one evening, there were hundreds of people sitting in the middle of Pines Blvd. or 15-501 or Friendly Ave. or any major road. Kate and I parted ways and I walked the rest of the way home, with only the sound of the wind in my ears.

The decision to fast has been an increasingly difficult one. Why do I fast? Because I’m afraid I won’t be “inscribed in the Book of Life”? Because fasting is supposed to help me “repent and atone for my sins?” Because it’s part of the Jewish tradition? Because of Jewish guilt? Because everyone does it? Because for some reason Yom Kippur is put above all other Jewish rituals and mitzvoth? Because if I don’t fast, what does it mean to be Jewish?

That is, of course, the question of this year and probably my life … what does it mean to be Jewish?

Shana tova and such

2008-10-06T12:20:00.000-07:00

PS (I know this is supposed to go at the end but you might get bored before then): I added pictures to an earlier entry. Enjoy!

As an added bonus, this blog is a very effective tool to measure the extent to which I am fully taking advantage of my year in Israel. Of course, this also means that days like today and yesterday, which stand out as particularly not blog-worthy, remind me of the limited time I have here.

The general pattern of the last two days: Ulpan, lunch, reading, nap, emails, dinner with Max, and, in the case of today, laundry.

I think I’ve hit a wall with Ulpan Beit Ha’am. I’m not sure exactly what it is … that it’s been a full month. That there’s only so long a person can listen to Mr. and Mrs. Weird talk about “bat shelanu” (their daughter), forcing the class to tangent once again from the lesson. That my weekend in Tzippori showed me how beneficial speaking with Israelis can be.

Ulpan is a very interesting language-immersion program and a very effective tool for learning Hebrew, but I think Ulpan Beit Ha’am, specifically, has worn out its welcome in my life. The class is very large, which means few meaningful opportunities for practicing my spoken Hebrew. And while the workbook used by Beit Ha’am is one of the better language books I’ve seen, I’m craving other educational tools … I think there could be a lot gained from reading the newspaper, watching movies, listening to the radio, etc.

There is another Ulpan – Ulpan Milah – which has come highly recommended and which I think I will check out soon. Ulpan Milah has smaller classes and it operates under the ideology of language and cultural immersion. I think this means they use all the educational tools I just mentioned (as well as the same workbook used by Beit Ha’am). (As added plus: Ulpan Milah’s classes are Monday – Thursday 9 am – 12 pm vs. Beit Ha’am’s Sunday-Thursday 8 am – 12:30 pm regimen.)

***Book Recommendations: Because I do not have a TV or quality internet access or a lot of homework (and perhaps because I crave all things English) I have a lot of time to read. While I still think Animal, Vegetable, Miracle should be your priority, you can add Bee Season by Myla Goldberg and TheCurious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon to the list. Bee Season is about Eliza, a young girl who feels very out of place in her gifted family – her father absorbed in the world of Jewish mysticism, her brother following in his father’s path, and her brilliant but distance lawyer mother. When Eliza discovers her aptitude for competitive spelling, her father takes it as a sign and sets her on a strange religious quest. Eliza’s mother’s secret life is revealed and the fabric of the family begins to unravel and it is Eliza who tries to make things right. It is beautifully written and captivating, but be warned. It is a little intense and … sad. I can’t report quite as thoroughly on The Curious Incident because I am only halfway through it, but so far – awesome! It’s written from the point of view of a 15-year-old boy with Asbergers Syndrome (on the Autism spectrum). It is wonderfully … strange.

Kibbutz Tuval for Shabbos

2008-10-05T04:02:00.000-07:00

Thursday afternoon, Micha drove me and Max into town to catch a bus to Carmiel where Neil picked us up. Neil is one of our two Dorot staff members. He is originally from London, England, and made aliyah to Israel in his early 20s when he and some of his friends from his Zionist youth group decided they wanted to found a kibbutz. He still lives on that kibbutz today and it’s where Max and I and the other Dorot fellows spent the weekend.

After I spent time perusing Neil’s extensive library and playing a game of Settlers of Catan, Neil made the group a delicious tofu stir-fry dinner. We lounged around the rest of the night, drinking wine and enjoying a big chocolately cake in honor of Naamah and Josh’s (other staff member Mara’s fiancé) birthdays.

When Max and I traipsed into Neil’s apartment on Friday morning around 11 am, we expected to be among the last to join the group. But we were apparently the early risers. Slowly, other sleepy-eyed Fellows wandered in. Breakfast/lunch was a long affair – Neil’s kitchen table was full of tea and coffee, yogurt and granola, eggs and (veggie) sausage, and toast and jam well after 2 pm.

We started another game of Settlers of Catan, but abandoned it around 3 in exchange for some pre-Shabbat cooking. This time Neil rightfully watched from the sidelines as the Dorot Fellows made dinner – veggie lasagna, roasted red peppers, cinnamon mashed sweet potatoes (my doing), a big salad, and baked apples. When everything was done, we took a long walk through the kibbutz and enjoyed the magnificent view from atop the kibbutz’ mountaintop location. Dinner was delicious – and so was the victory I enjoyed when we finished up our second game of Settlers!

Saturday morning got another late but lovely start. It was the perfect Shabbat – lots of eating talking, and reading. I borrowed several books from Neil’s shelf and began reading Bee Season. After several rounds of Tim-Tam slams, (a disgusting game requiring you to zip hot tea through a melting chocolate cookie) we packed up and headed down the mountain to catch the bus in Carmiel to Jerusalem.

Tzippori for Rosh Hashanah

2008-10-02T04:01:00.000-07:00

On Monday afternoon, Max and I boarded the bus at the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem headed for Afula. 2 ½ hours later we arrived at a small bus station, where Micha, a friend from Camp Ramah Darom, was waiting enthusiastically for our arrival. Micha and her family live in Tzippori, a small moshav near Nazareth in Northern Israel.

Micha and her family are wonderfully welcoming, industrious, genuinely nice people. Micha’s father works in the high-tech industry and her mother as an English and Drama teacher at a high school. Micha is 21 and the oldest of 3; Itai is 19 and Tamar is 15. Itai should be in the army right now, but has real moral qualms about the military and is currently abstaining from service. Tamar attends a very unique school on Kibbutz Hardof which fosters a very successful brand of experiential learning.

In the evening, Micha’s grandparents (who made aliyah in the early adulthood from South America), aunt, uncle, and young cousins came to Tzippori for Rosh Hashanah dinner. Micha’s family is what most Israeli’s call “secular.” The unique situation in Israel has fostered an almost completely black-white form of religiosity – either you are religious or you are not at all. The concept of Conservative and Reform Judaism is relatively unknown to the Israeli masses. But the family said several lovely prayers over an even lovelier dinner.

The next few days are a blur – but they can be described as the best 3 days I’ve spent in Israel so far. Micha took us to ancient Roman ruins that are, more or less, in her backyard. We walked through an aqueduct from the 1^st century C.E. and beautiful mosaics dating back nearly as far. We drank tea and ate rugelach on the beach with Micha and her friends and watched the sunset. We walked through the shuk in Acco and enjoyed the post-Ramadan celebratory atmosphere. And mostly, we wandered around the moshav – picking wild pomegrantes and walnuts and licorice-tasting leaves, petting horses and goats, and visiting the moshav’s medicinal herb garden – and spent time with her family – helping them make wine (yes make), cooking delicious meals, and enjoying their company.

*** Due to the agricultural nature of Micha’s moshav, a significant portion of their food is as local as their backyard. They have a pomegranate orchard, an avocado tree, and a chicken coop … and the moshav has its own olive press. Israel, in general, practices local eating to a much higher standard than America. Most of the produce we purchase at the shuk, and even at the grocery store, is from somewhere in the country, as is a lot of the meat.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a real pull toward this issue. It started the first time I pulled a fig off a tree in Israel and popped it in my mouth. It continued as I enjoyed the fresh, locally-in-season produce from the shuk. It gained speed after I read Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and it peaked on Micha’s moshav.

I fear that whatever argument I may make for eating locally will be a less articulate, less credentialed version of Kingsolver’s book. All I can say is that it’s really satisfying to eat food knowing that it’s contributing to the local economy and that millions of gallons of gasoline weren’t wasted to get it to my kitchen table. Ideally, it would be organic, and I would be able to say it’s satisfying to know that environmentally damaging, soil eroding, animal (and maybe people) killing pesticides weren’t used … but, hey, everyone’s gotta start somewhere.

Me on "Jump Mountain" overlooking Northern Israel.

Max and I on "Jump Mountain."

Mika's friend, Mika, Me, and Max at the beach near Akko.

Max and I on the beach near Akko at sunset.

Max attacking me at the beach near Akko at sunset.

A Shabbos Waltz

2008-09-27T10:58:00.000-07:00

Friday morning. Max and I went the shuk to stock up for the weekend. I few weeks ago, while searching for some red pepper flakes, I befriended Moshe, the Spice Man. Friday, I added a Fruit Man to my list as well. Grapefruits are finally in season and I’m reveling in the addition to my fruit bowl. On Friday, I went to the fruit stand where I’d purchased a grapefruit the day before (and the day before that.) Fruit Man smiled when he saw me approaching. “You’re here to by grapefruits,” he said knowingly (and in Hebrew.) “Yes,” I said. (also in Hebrew.) And the he gave me a shekel off the two juicy pink grapefruits I picked from the pile.

I experimented for lunch and made lentils and rice flavored with cumin (purchased from Moshe’s stand but not from Moshe who was MIA) for Max and I. Not to brag but they were quite delicious. We then packed up our computers and headed to Noctural, a little coffee shop near my ulpan. We bought tea and enjoyed a few hours of uninterrupted internet access. It was nice to feel connected to the world again but I became quickly aware of the severity of the impending financial crisis in the States.

The rest of the afternoon was devoted to a few chapters of Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (a must read!) and a nap. Then it was time for Shabbos dinner. On the menu for Max and I: vegetable baked ziti, salad, challah, and apple crisp. It was another success in the kitchen. After dinner, we took a long walk through the streets of Nachlaot, listening to the sounds of families in their homes and enjoying the absence of the bustle of the city streets. We walked to Gan Sacher, a huge park at the end of Betzalel (off which we live.) We found a large tire swing and laid in it, watching the clouds which have finally arrived to the Jerusalem sky.

Saturday. This is the first Shabbos that neither Max or I have had plans so we decided to investigate the non-traditional Shabbat culture in Jerusalem. We took a long (45 minute) walk to the Lev Smadar theatre to see the 11:40 am showing of Happy-Go-Lucky, the winner of the Berlin Film Festival and nominee for several other international film awards. We bought our tickets and settled into our seats, only to discover that the theatre was screening a French film with Hebrew subtitles, not Happy-Go-Lucky.) We got our money back (apparently we’re not the only American tourists who have made this mistake.) We decided, however, that we’d walked too far to turn around, so we bought tickets for the 2:15 pm showing of Waltz with Bashir with English subtitles. We took a long walk and then ate lunch at the only restaurant open on Shabbat in the area.

Waltz with Bashir is an animated documentary film about the first Lebanon War. It will be representing Israel in the Best Foreign Film category at the Oscars. It has a very unique artistic approach to such a controversial topic. It was an incredibly powerful and moving film and really opened my eyes to an important part of Israeli history. If it comes to theatres in the U.S. definitely go see it!

S is for Sheep

2008-09-25T10:44:00.000-07:00

Remember that day about a week ago that was remarkably un-“Israeli”? Yesterday was very much not that.

Thursday means Dorot Day, which means no Ulpan but the same 6:45 am wake up. I walked down to the Prima Kings Hotel on King George St. and Ramban to meet the rest of the Dorot gang and the bus. We drove 45 minutes to Neot Kedumim – the Biblical Landscape Reserve.

First on the tour was a lengthy explanation of the sycamore tree to which hopeful comparisons have been made. (“Like this tree, so shall our people be.”) The sycamore grows up a good section of the Mediterranean coast of Israel and can survive even when buried for years under sand dunes. Interestingly, the sycamore is not native to Israel and neither is the wasp that is apparently vital to the growth of the sycamore fruit. Because this wasp does not reside in Israel, the sycamore fruits are either very small or have to pricked by hand to release the gases necessary for the fruit to plump up. The fruit tastes a bit like a tiny fig.

We also learned how olive oil is made and got to see a real olive press. And we saw a display of 10 different types of sukkot. And we learned all smitah or sabbatical year. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shmita I knew about this law but had never give it as much thought as I did yesterday. It is such a powerful concept. That not only should the land deserve a break, but that people should be reminded that the land and what grows on it isn’t theirs. Every 7 years it can’t be used for profit or power, just to feed whoever are hungry, man and animal alike.

And then we herded sheep. Yes, I herded a flock of sheep and goats. It’s much harder than it looks and there’s real skill involved. You have to be very calm and move very purposefully. They must be herded from the back or they get spooked and sometimes they need an “I mean business” nudge on their butt. And when that doesn’t work you have to make this funny “brrrrr” tongue-rolling song that gets them trotting. Enjoy the pictures below.

After my Little Bo Peep adventure, it was lunch time. If you think that means a picnic of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apples from a cooler that you are quite mistaken. Our tour guide presented us with a table of foods and spices that only existed in the Bible and told us to make lunch. With a fire. Outside.

It was a delicious spread. Lentils and rice. A big leafy salad with homemade dressing (compliments of yours truly.) Herb scrambled eggs (also my doing.) Sautéed carrots and onions. Homemade pita with tahini and labaneh (we cheated and had this one store bought). And baked cinnamon apples for dessert.

The day was only half over. We said goodbye and boarded the bus for our afternoon hike on the Israel Trail. The Israel Trail is a fairly new concept … it connects many different trails across the country so that a person could (and people do) hike from the very top to the very bottom. We did about half the walk in silence – I could only hear the rustling of the trees and my own heavy breathing from walking uphill. I’d forgotten how little silence there is in my life. The hike itself was beautiful but it paled in comparison to the view at the top. We saw on top of the mountain, reading various Jewish texts related to the subject of journey and destination. It is better to learn to appreciate each step on the hike (or in life) and not focus too much on the destination (or goal)? Or is life wasted if you don’t set goals and accomplish them? The sunset just as we finished our text study and we descended from the mountain to meet the bus.

Back in Jerusalem, Max and I went to get frozen yogurt on Ben Yehuda St. I came home and feel fast asleep.

One of those days.

2008-09-22T10:43:00.000-07:00

Today was just “one of those days.” And, much as I love aspects of being Israel, “those days” are exacerbated, or maybe created by, my inability to fully function in this country.

Ulpan should have been really interesting today. We got sidetracked several times and several of my classmates told very interesting stories (in a modicum of Hebrew):

-Yosef is from Spain and his family has only been practicing Judaism for the last 5 generations because they converted to Christianity during the Spanish Inquisition. He told us about how he is one of the first generations to be open about his religion, but he still won’t wear a kipah in his home of Valencia, Spain because there’s a good chance he’d be stoned.

-Kid whose name I don’t know told us about how he’s one of 10 children and when his entire immediate family gets together it’s something like 70 people.

-Yaakov told us about his neighbors in New York who have 17 children.

But people were talking over each other and using words I didn’t know and I was having trouble understanding the details of the stories.

The afternoon was totally unproductive unless you consider sulking and napping productivity. Max returned from work also in a sour mood, and for some reason we decided that laundry was our activity of choice.

Let me tell you a little about what laundry is like in Nachlaot, Jerusalem. Max and I lug our laundry several blocks to the closest Laundromat. It is one of the largest we’ve seen, with 3 washing machines and 2 dryers. The machines only take 5 and 1 shekel coins. There is no change machine. And the stores and restaurants around said Laundromat are less than willing to make change.

We managed to scrape together the coinage we needed and then went next door to buy falafel where the falafel man proceeded to mock my unpolished Hebrew.

The evening took a slight turn for the better when I asked the guy at the cash register at the 24 hour store if he would make change for my 10 shekel coin (in English because I can’t say any of the necessary words for that transaction.) He said, “Yes, I can make change. And so can Barack Obama.” Let’s hope the majority of Americans feel the same way.

I received a phone call from Mara (Dorot staff) around 10:30 pm asking if I was ok. I knew immediately that meant there had been a terrorist attack, as it is Dorot policy to call all the fellows when something happens. Apparently a man drove a car through a crowd of people near the Jaffa Gate. No was died but several people were severely injured.

Heartbeat Jerusalem

2008-09-21T10:41:00.000-07:00

Every Thursday I miss Ulpan for a Dorot Day which makes Thursday quite wonderful and Sunday quite miserable. It feels much like it did the few times I missed a whole week of classes in high school. I trudged to Ulpan yesterday, with my usual Sunday morning dread.

Not only had I missed several important verbs and nouns, but also a fairly complicated but significant explanation of a two very grammatical concepts. In Hebrew there is a word “et” that gets inserted in certain sentences. It doesn’t mean anything but it’s very necessary. As far as I understand, it goes after a verb that refers to a definite object. There is also a rule which says that if you are describing a definite object you use the word “the” for both the noun and adjective. For example, I wouldn’t say “ani ohevet hamorah hadasha;” instead I have to say “ani ohevet et hamorah hahadasha.” (I like the new teacher.)

Not only had I missed this explanation but I had also missed the tension that was apparently created by the class’ frustration with Inbar’s (my teacher) explanation and Inbar’s frustration with the class’ lack of understanding. It made for a very tense Ulpan class.

We did, however, finally learn infinitives which means I can now say really important sentences like “ani rotzah lilmod invrit aval ani lo rotzah la’asot shiur bayit” (I want to learn Hebrew but I don’t want to do the homework.)

After Ulpan, Dena and I went to the shuk to pick up some essentials for lunch. We had a little picnic in my apartment – hummus and labeneh (a yogurty dip) and olives and persimmons (my new favorite fruit.) The usual afternoon ensued: ulpan homework, nap, and the futile search for wireless internet.

Max and I made pizza for dinner which was delicious but costly – cheese is not cheap in this country. And then we met Alex and Rebecca at the Jerusalem International YMCA for a concert called Heartbeat Jerusalem.

The first performance was a group called WhiteFlag who describe themselves as a “World Fusion/Rock Band” from Palestine and Israel. Only half of their band was able to perform (the Gaza-residing half obviously couldn’t join them). They were definitely good but they looked a little like a band that formed 20 years ago and then got very old.

Next on the program was G-Town – a Palestinian hip-hop group comprised of 5 20-something year old men all born and raised in the Shoufat Refugee Camp. They were awesome! Max told me to say they have “good flow” which I think is a compliment in the hip hop realm.

Then the main act – Heartbeat: Jerusalem which is an ensemble of Israeli and Palestinian high school students who formed with the support of a U.S. State Department Fulbright Fellow and MTV. Unfortunately, only half of their band was present but they were very cute. They performed a few covers (one really amazing Jordanian song) and a few originals. Somewhere in the middle of their act, the MC invited another band to join them. Sulhita was 3 14- or 15-year-old boys who were well-intentioned and definitely not bad musically. But were, essentially, every substitute teacher’s worst nightmare in their overwhelming energy and lack of propriety. The performance sort of spiraled out of control once they joined the stage and the show ended with a 20 minute “song” performed by all the performers.

The performance was, in many ways, inspirational. It gives me hope to know there are young people who are devoting their time to causes which promote coexistence and peace. But the primary language in the audience was English and the program was sponsored by the U.S. State Department and organized by a young American Fulbright Fellow. The young idealistic Americans are ready for peace but it feels a lot more difficult to get the people here on board. Or maybe the Israelis and Palestinians feel like a one-night concert just isn’t going to do it?

Shabbat and Settlers of Catan

2008-09-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

Despite the light that infiltrated the apartment at 6 am and the noise that followed it, I managed to sleep in until 10 this morning. Max and I took a nice, long Shabbos walk to my friend (and Fellow) Rebecca and her husband Dave’s apartment in Katamon (about a 35 minute walk from Nachlaot.)

Rebecca and Dave invited Max and I, 3 other Fellows (Isra, Kate, and Alex), and several of their friends from home (Chicago and Toronto, Canada) to join them for Shabbos lunch. It was a real feast -- they served pita and salatim (hummus, babaganous, tomato-y dip, etc.), salad, and bean and corn salad followed by delicious cauliflower soup. Then there was veggie stir-fry, chicken, salami, and roasted potatoes and roasted veggies. And of course, there was challah served with honey – a Jewish tradition in the presence of newlyweds.

We sang a few Jewish songs and sat around the table hearing stories about Dave and Rebecca’s wedding, laughing about Kate’s dual undergraduate degree in Politics and Primatology (monkeys), and discussing the plethora of Jews whose blind support of Israel doesn’t match up with their usually liberal, socially aware attitudes.

After lunch, we crowded into their living room for dessert (Marzipan compliments of Max and I and persimmons) for what became a rousing game of Settlers of Catan. It’s a fun Risk-type game that involved accumulating resources (wood, bricks, sheep, wheat, and ore) and building roads, settlements, and cities. I was playing a pretty solid game with my teammate Isra but Rebecca and Dave swooped in with a victory point hidden on the underside of an unturned Development Card and took the game.

Today was one of those days that I really appreciated Jerusalem. An unbelievable sense of quiet and calm falls over the city on Shabbos. There are Israelis – secular and religious alike – walking the streets with friends and family. And everyone knows – and feels – that the day is different.

Yesh-lach ... all purpose cleaner?

2008-09-19T18:00:00.000-07:00

This morning was a distinctly un-Israeli one. I slept in a bit (until 9 because that’s as long as I can tolerate the sunlight and Nachlaot noise.) I ate a very American breakfast – Honey Bunches of Oat cereal and milk. And then I cleaned.

First I negotiated my way past my landlord’s cat who has made a permanent home in front of my door. I found a broom on the landing outside and brought it inside. I swept and swept and swept and then swept more because, apparently, when you live in an apartment with 3 windows open all the time, a lot of dirt and dust comes in.

I went to a little store nearby and bought more distinctly un-Israeli items: a sponge, 2 dish towels, a dustpan, conditioner, and all-purpose cleaner. That was an adventure, I guess. Discerning which of the many bottles and sprays was all-purpose cleaner and not some other miscellaneous cleaning product was quite difficult.

I brought my bounty back to the apartment. I sprayed and scrubbed and sprayed and scrubbed because with the windows the same holds true for counters and tables.

My wonderful friend Navah was shopping at the shuk and stopped by for a bit to make challah dough (it needed the afternoon to rise and she couldn’t wait until she got home.) Navah and I worked together at Ramah Darom, and it’s very exciting to be here with her.

Then … it was shuk time. I’ve never been to the shuk this close to Shabbos and, let me tell you, it was INSANITY. Vendors shouting, people packed in like sardines, and lots of strange smells. I bought food for dinner for Max and I (oven roasted marinated tofu, mashed sweet potatoes, Israeli salad, and a mini whole wheat challah) and dessert for tonight and lunch tomorrow.

Tonight, Kate (Dorot Fellow) is coming over for dessert, wine, and Scrabble. Max and I are supplying the dark chocolate and fruit, Kate the wine and Scrabble. Fellows Yoshi and Jen might stop by too. Tomorrow, Rebecca (Fellow) and her husband Dave invited Max and I and a few other friends to her house for Shabbat lunch. I’m bringing a box of rugelach from Marzipan (a little store in the shuk with dessert that Americans go crazy for.)

Time to go make dinner. Shabbat shalom!!!

A long day ...

2008-09-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

No ulpan today. Every Thursday this year is Dorot Day, which means that the 12 Dorot Fellows and our 2 Dorot staff (Mara and Neil) get together to learn about a topic of our choosing. This is probably a good opportunity to describe the Dorot Fellows to you:

-Elliot: At 29, he's our oldest Fellow. Elliot just got his master's degree in Applied Theatre from a university in South Africa where he used theater to help facilitate dialogue between imprisoned teenagers of different ethnic groups. Max calls his a "ray of sunshine."
-Jake: Jake (28) just got married to his wife Shoshana a few months ago. Most recently he worked for Random House and was the lead in his jazz-poetry band Frantic Turtle. Jake loves all this literary.
-Kate: Kate (27) is our token Canadian. She just spent a year or two in Sierra Lione, helping establish a volunteer corps for students just of high school. She is a mean Scrabble player.
-Isra: Isra (26) calls both San Francisco and Connecticut her home. She is an Iranian Jew with an interesting family history. Isra worked most recently for the American Jewish Committee. She can talk to anyone.
-Yoshi: Yoshi (25) has spent most of his post-college life working as a counselor and group leader for outdoor/nature education groups. He loves all this outdoorsy and is working hard to find an Israeli girlfriend.
-Jen: Jen (25) spent the last few years doing environmental advocacy work in San Francisco. Jen knows a lot of Eastern medicine and healing. I find that I can only describe her by saying she has a beautiful soul.
-Rebecca: Rebecca (23) missed the first part of our Israel orientation to get married to her now-husband Dave (a rabbinical student.) Rebecca is sweet and funny and is taking all of the transitions in her life in stride.
-Naamah: Naamah (23 on Friday) just graduated from college and, essentially, wrote the other half of my thesis. (I wrote about the first Hebrew-English public school and she wrote about the Arab-English public school often compared it.) Naamah is the only fellow living not in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv and speaks Hebrew and Arabic very well.
-Alex: Alex (22 ... her birthday is the same as mine) just graduated from Columbia University. She is very adventurous and is always inspiring me to go to new places and see new parts of Israel.
-Dena: Dena (22) just graduated from Northwestern. We spend a lot of time giggling in Ulpan class together and sharing in our love of dark chocolate. Dena can always make me laugh.
-Matt: Matt (22) also just graduated from college and deferred his admittance to law school to be a Dorot Fellow. Matt is the only Orthodox fellow, an I always find myself learning from his depth of knowledge and willingness to explain.

In pairs of 2, we plan this Dorot seminars in which we visit places, talk to people, read interesting things related to a specific topic. Two weeks ago we learned about Israel Cinema, last week was Foreign Workers in Israel, and this week was a Community Planning Day to plan the next block of seminars.

The day started with facilitation training led by a former Dorot fellow. It was a very productive but long and draining day. 10 hours of intense discussion. In the end, we decided on the following topics for future seminars: Israel the Land through Islam, Israel and Iran/Syria, Bedoins, the Politics of Kashrut, and Hebrew as a Biblical and Modern Language. We also have Flora and Fauna of Israel and Literary/Philosophical Movements in Israel which will be happening soon.

I was totally exhausted by the end of all that planning. But Max and I took a walk downtown and sat at a restaurant for a while enjoying the Jerusalem air and a glass of wine (white for me, red for him.) We spoke the whole time in Hebrew! It involved a lot of "ma?" (what?) on my part and a lot of patience on his but we made it happen. There is hope yet.

Tzipporah v'tzipor

2008-09-16T12:32:00.000-07:00

I think today I officially became a Hebrew speaker. Today, in Ulpan, I wrote my first story. Now let’s be honest. It sounds like a kindergartener wrote it. It sounds like something a Hooked on Phonics kid would read. It is pretty limited in vocabulary. And it’s not particularly interesting. But it’s a story. I will translate the story for you:

There is a girl – a lovely girl. Her name is Tzipporah. Tzipporah takes a walk to the little park with her bird. (An important note: The story is funny because, in Hebrew, bird is tzipor.) In the park, there are trees, dogs, the sun, and many people. Tzipporah hears a good song and she feels good. Suddenly, she does not see her bird! She says, “Where is my bird? Where is my bird?” Tzipporah does not feel good so she buys a chocolate ice cream. Then she sees a boy with her bird. The boy is next to a chair so Tzipporah walks to the chair. Tzipporah wants to be friends so she buys more ice cream. They eat the ice cream together.

I’m sure you’re laughing right now … thinking about how Dr. Seuss would spit on my story. But 3 weeks ago all I could say was, “Where is the bathroom?” That’s progress!

After Ulpan (and after Ulpan homework and the obligatory afternoon nap), I went to the shuk to make a few more important purchases for the apartment.

Purchase #1: Laundry baskets. I used my limited Hebrew language skills to bargain the shuk lady down from 70 shekels for two laundry baskets to 60 shekels. (This actually requires acting indecisive and/or skeptical about the price than any actual Hebrew words.)

Purchase #2: A shower curtain. Me: “Ata medaber Englit?” (Do you speak English?) Man: “Ktsat.” (A little.) Me: “I need a shower curtain …” Man: “Ma ze?” (What’s that?) Me: “Eh … ani rotzah ha … eh … villon.” (I need a curtain.) I left the store with a cute shower curtain that matches the wall tiles in my bathroom perfectly.

Purchase #3: Louiza i.e. a delicious smelling and tasting lemony leaf that you make into tea. This requires no Hebrew speaking (although I did correctly determine that it was Louiza by reading it on the plant.)

Purchase #4: Fresh mint leaves. Me: “Afo ha nana?” (Where is the mint?) Man: “Sham.” (There.) Me: Shtay shekelim? With an air of confidence. (2 shekels?) Man: “Ken.” (Yes.)

Purchase #5: A big package of vanilla biscuits for 3.5 shekels ($1.)

I met my friend Dena for frozen yogurt and then was convinced to join her at a learning session on Forgiveness and Repentance during Yom Kippur at Yakar (the Center for Judaism, Tradition, and Creativity or something like that). I’ve been to some really wonderful lectures and studies in Jerusalem but this was not one of them! No need to dwell … but the rabbi was sweaty and twitchy and I’m still not sure what his point was.

Max and I attempted to use our browning bananas to make a bananas-foster-type-dessert (definitely delicious but definitely not bananas foster.) And now I’m sitting at my window sill, trying to decide whether I’m going to an Israeli film festival tomorrow.

Only tomorrow will tell.

PS – I just read two really wonderful books that I highly recommend to those of you with access to English books that don’t cost an arm and a leg. 1) A Man Walks Into a Room by Nicole Krauss and 2) Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen.

Here's to airconditioning ...

2008-09-15T12:45:00.000-07:00

Alright. Enough is enough. It’s time to buy a real mattress. I woke up in the middle of last night wondering why I was sleeping on the ground and then remembered that I was not, in fact, sleeping on the ground but on a futon “mattress.”

Ulpan again this morning. New verbs: ro’a (see), mityelet (travel), and mevinah (understand). New question: “Ma tie?” (“when …?”) We went to the “listening lab” today … I listened to a letter from David to Yosi and tried to dictate it. All that transliteration has really done me a disservice … I’m having trouble remembering how to spell Hebrew words.

It was so hot this afternoon so I spent most of it inside doing my Ulpan homework, reading “Girl of the Fridge” – a (translated) collection of short stories by one of Israel’s most beloved contemporary authors Etgar Keret, writing a letter to my friend Sammy, and then … taking a nap.

Max finished work early and we celebrated with a trip to the shuk! We bought grapes (to freeze as a hot afternoon treat), a pomegranate (for only 2 shekels!), Honey Bunches of Oat cereal (cereal is really expensive here so when you see something on sale you buy it!), and lots of veggies and tofu for a delicious stir-fry dinner.

Max needed to make a copy of his key from work … on our way to Ace Hardware (which did not have a key copying machine) we found this little hole-in-the-wall bar. We sat at a high table and listened to the one waitress/bartender/sandwich maker flirt with her boyfriend, and a young girl and older woman argue over whose turn it is to use the computer, and a lot of conversations in Hebrew that I only understood bits and pieces of.

Laila tov!

I'm baaa-ack

2008-09-14T08:10:00.000-07:00

Hello again. Sorry it's been so long since I last "blogged." We just moved into the apartment and there isn't reliable internet access yet. My current solution to this problem is to put my computer on the window sill and surf for wireless internet but that doesn't always work.

The apartment is a small studio apartment in the neighborhood of Nachlaot. Nachlaot is known for it's very religious residents as well as it's hippies. I happen to reside on the side with the very religious folk. Every morning this month I've been woken up at 6:30 am by the shofar (because it's Elul - the month before Rosh Hashana). On Shabbat I can hear prayers from every corner of the neighborhood. The apartment is just a 2 minute walk from 3 of the most important things in my life right now: 1) "the shuk" (check out this website for a good description) 2) the major bus lines and 3) ulpan.

Ulpan is Israel's method of teaching olim hadashim (new immigrants) and tourists (like myself) Hebrew. There are lots of ulpanim around the city ... some in the morning, some in the evening, some just a few days a week, and others, like my Ulpan, is every day.

I go to Ulpan every morning from 8 am - 12:30 pm. The class is large and diverse. About half the class are Arab Israelis who are hoping to improve their job prospects by learning Hebrew. There's Isabella Maria, a Biblical Studies professor in Madrid. Alexia - a girl about my age from France whose boyfriend is in the Israeli army. Brian, a 30-something year old Naval Academy graduate and diplomat who got tired of shlepping his 4 kids around so he's learning Ancient Middle East History in Jerusalem. Bob and Elaine - two middle-aged American parents with grown children. And a lot more people from all over the world.

I promise to write more later ... but it's dinner time and my omelet is sizzling.

Lehitrayot.

Efshar cos mayim?

2008-08-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

"Efshar cos mayim?" "May I have a glass of water?" This is the newest addition to my limited Hebrew vocabulary, but probably the most frequently used. Other exciting additions ... mazleg (fork), pickock (traffic jam), kabbalah (receipt), tay nana (mint tea), kisa (chair), and teenim (figs).

All the fellows have arrived and orientation began yesterday. We're finally started talking about how to plan our year, and I set up an advisory session with Neil and Mara (Dorot Staff.) There are two parts of the Dorot Fellowship - the community learning and the personal learning. Thursdays are community days and they are totally planned by the fellows. We have a pretty hefty budget, and in the next few days we're going to start talking about what we want to learn, who we want to talk to, where we want to travel, etc.

The personal learning program has three parts: language, Jewish learning, and volunteering. Since my Hebrew language skills are pretty beginner, I will taking ulpan (intensive Hebrew study) for the next few months (location TBA.) My Jewish learning is must more wide open ... I am currently hoping to design a program that allows me to study Jewish life cycle events. More on that, and my volunteering, later.

Because I'm tired and not feeling particularly wordy, I will share some pictures with you.

This is me apartment hunting in the lobby of the hotel.

This is me, pretending to kick my friend (and Fellow) Isra in the nostril of the dragon statue in the beautiful Liberty Bell Park.

Love you all!

PS ... in addition to the previous mentioned running-intos (Yelena, Anat, Leor, Zack, and Noa) I also saw my friend, Shai, from UNC. This city is crazy.

Highlights

2008-08-13T16:47:00.000-07:00

Highlights from the last few days:

-My roommate and fellow Fellow Dena arrived and is now filling my room and life with wonderful company and humor.
-Jenny and company arrived and is filling my life with the familiarity of home and lots of fun!
-I discovered the shuk (market)! Fresh fruits and veggies, dried fruits and nuts, amazing rugelah, pita, hummus, olives ... and it's all so cheap! (I was even able to ask for a few things in Hebrew ... mish mish, be'vakasha?)
-It's a small world after all. I have run into 3 more people in the last few days. Last night, I saw Anat, my Israeli bunk-mate from my first summer at Ramah, on Emek Refaim. She was with her fiance, whose younger sister was my co-counselor during my second summer. Tonight, I saw Noa (my Israeli roommate my first summer at Ramah) and Zach (another Ramahnik) on Ben Yehuda.
-Sushi at Gong. Tonight was Jenny's birthday and I ordered a delicious salmon sushi roll with mango. Who knew Israelis could do Japanese food so well?
-I danced until very, very late at this Irish Pub ... I'm not sure the Israelis knew what to do with us and our crazy American dance moves.
-Josh and Matt (two other fellows) have joined us at the Little House in the Moshava (our hotel) and more Fellows will be arriving shortly! Soon the whole crew will be together again.

Banana, be'vakasha?

2008-08-10T12:43:00.000-07:00

I think jet-lag finally caught up with me. I had so much trouble dragging myself out of bed this morning ... but it was well worth it for the yogurt at breakfast this morning. Apparently, Dannon has created some awesome flavors for us Middle Easterners.

The morning and early part of the afternoon was spent frittering away at my computer ... looking up apartments, contacting people about apartments, attempting to reach health insurance contact persons, getting sidetracked by stories about Iranian Olympians not wanting to race with Israelis. Several hours later, with no leads on apartments and no health insurance, I decided to venture out.

I walked to Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies (an English-language learning center frequented by young Jews) because I heard there was a bulletin somewhere with apartment listings. I had also heard that Pardes hosts seminars on Tisha B'Av.

I chose the session called "Who Wants the Temple?" where I was supposed to hear a man named Zvi discuss whether the yearnings for the rebuilding of the Temple are still relevant today. He may have discussed that ... I'm not sure. He touched on a few good points, a few points I understood, and the rest was either incomprehensible to me or, in a few cases, a little upsetting. Pardes is one of the places I can choose for my Jewish learning. I'm going to give them another shot at their open house in a few weeks because I have heard some truly wonderful things about the community there, but if I were to make a decision today I would have to say "no thank you." Perhaps it was just the group, perhaps it was just today ... but there didn't seem to be a lot of room for dissension in this environment or room for individuals outside of a very narrow spectrum of Jewish practice.

On the way back, I bought a delicious smoothie (where I chose banana as my fruit because, honestly, it is the only fruit I can say besides tapuach (apple) and mish mish (apricot) which were not choices.)

After a nice mid-day nap, some women's Olympic gymnastics, and some light reading ... I decided to head out for some dinner. I chose a coffee shop where I sat at a bar behind an open window and watched the Jerusalem night-life. Enjoying the largest bowl of tomato soup I've ever had, I noticed how ... alive ... the city feels.

I've noticed that my entries have been a little lengthy, so I'll leave it at that. Laila tov.

City of Gold

2008-08-09T15:36:00.001-07:00

Shalom! I have arrived safely in Jerusalem. I actually arrived two days ago, but British Airways "misplaced" one of my bags ... conveniently the one with my converters in it. Until today, when my bag was returned to me, I was conserving my internet power as much as possible.

My flights were pretty marvelous actually. On the way to London I sat next to a very nice old British couple. After a failed attempt to explain to the woman how we were landing in London at 6 am (London time ... she just couldn't get the whole time difference thing) I turned my attention to her husband who proved to be a much better conversationalist. Did you know that if you are a celiac (gluten intolerant) in England, like this man is, you get a government subsidy?

I did, in fact, watch a movie - Bruce Almighty - as well as an episode of Friends. The rest of the time I slept and read and ate my vegetarian airline food which, on this leg of my trip, was actually pretty decent.

On the second leg of my flight, from Heathrow to Ben Gurion Airport, I got magically upgraded from "World Traveller" to "World Traveller Plus." I didn't know what that meant until I got to my very large fancy seat with a lot of leg room. Woo hoo!

More sleeping ... more reading ... more eating (only this time the food was horrid and unidentifiable!) I arrived in Tel Aviv and after the rather upsetting experience of realizing my bag was missing, filing the proper paperwork, having customs sign the proper paperwork, returning the proper paperwork, getting more paperwork, wondering if I'd even see my bag again, and getting shekels, I preceded outside to grab a sherut (shared taxi.)

I was the last to be dropped off which meant I saw a lot of the city which really does, at certain times of day, sparkle. The cab driver dropped me off at the Little House in the Moshava, which is thought to be the smallest hotel in Jerusalem, with only 22 rooms. (see below)

My room is small but clean and quaint. I have a tv that gets a few sporadic English stations and wireless internet so I can't complain.

Last night, I found a cute coffee shop on Emek Refaim (the major road off which my hotel is located.) As I walked in and surveyed the room for a place to sit, I heard, "Alli?!" I turned around and there was Yelena, a girl I know through UNC Hillel. I couldn't believe it! I'd be in the country 3 hours and already I'd run into someone. We chatted briefly and then I made a not-so-graceful exit to another table upon realizing I was crashing her date.

I read a bit of my book, Man Walked Into a Room by Nicole Krauss, while munching happily on a delicious bowl of yogurt and fresh fruit and muesli. After a rather embarrassing experience of trying to pay with an old shekel (much like trying to pay for dinner with a Confederate dollar), I headed back to the hotel.

This morning I ate the continental breakfast at the hotel, packed my bags, and headed out. Map in hand, I managed to find my way to the Old City via a beautiful park, a lovely garden, and a windmill built by philanthropist Sir Moses Montefiore to commemorate the first neighborhood built outside the walls of the Old City. (see below)

I tucked my map in my backpack and decided to get lost in the Old City. Every time I'd turn onto a street I'd think, "oh I've been here already!" and then quickly realize I was wrong. Every street is jammed packed with stores and store owners and shoppers and children running everywhere. (see below)

I bought a juice from a man with a juice stand. I think I got ripped off but the juice was delicious! He literally took some pomegranates and oranges and just squeezed them right into my cup. After a few hours I began to feel overwhelmed by the number of store keepers shouting after me to "just come see!" their "merchandise" so I found my way back to the Jaffa Gate. Before leaving I bought falafel from another man with a stand (for a much more reasonable price) and headed back.

I walked with my falafel back through the gardens and the parks, stopping briefly to watch the toddlers and their parents slashing around in a fountain. It was actually quite beautiful ... Muslim women with head covering and Jewish men with kipot all splashing around with their children in the same fountain.

Hot and exhausted, I fell asleep on my bed back in the hotel. I waited around several hours for my luggage to arrive, unpacked a bit, and then ventured out for dinner. Here's the thing ... there aren't very many restaurants open in Jerusalem on Shabbos. But many of them open late, after Shabbat is over. So I waited until about 9:15 to grab a bite to eat. As I wandered down Emek Refaim, I became quite suspicious. There were people everywhere ... walking, driving, and waiting for the bus. But, except for Burger Bar, there were no restaurants open. I quickly realized that tomorrow is Tisha B'av, an annual fast day in Judaism to commemorate the destruction of the First and Second Temples. So ... very few restaurants are open.

I, however, am not planning on fasting. And I needed food. Luckily, the grocery store was open, so I bought some bread, cheese, and vegetables, and made myself a lovely picnic dinner back at the Little House.

In Israel, Sunday is like Monday in that it is the beginning of the work week. So tomorrow should, hopefully, bring productivity. Health insurance and apartment hunting are on the list. My roommate and fellow Fellow Deena arrives tomorrow and my friend Jenny arrives Monday for a 2 1/2 week visit so I won't be alone in the city much longer.

Yalla bye

2008-08-07T14:22:00.000-07:00

I'm off to Israel!

(If you want to call me, I can be reached at 052-619-9431. Israel's country code for international calls is 011.)

the early bird ... waits a long time in JFK

2008-08-07T14:09:00.000-07:00

Shalom from JFK. I have been in the British Airways International terminal for a while now ... having arrived at JFK obscenely early. There was little traffic and I whizzed through check-in and security. My flight leaves in an hour ... so I'm sure we'll be boarding soon.

I have big plans for the flight to Heathrow (London, where I have a brief layover.) The Chronicles of Narnia, Whatever Happens in Vegas, X-Men: the Last Stand, Nim's Island, and Something's Gotta Give are playing ... amidst a selection of American and British sit-coms and animal documentaries.

I brought 4 books ... Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, a book of short stories by Israel's premier author Etgar Keret, Man Walks Into a Room by Nicole Krauss, and the Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon.

I have a journal in which I have been asked by the Dorot Foundation to write about what we imagine we will tell our grandchildren about our life when we are 80 and how we will use this year to reach those goals.

And in between the vegetarian meals I requested ... I will sleep (hopefully.)

I am not a nervous flyer but apparently a fairly nervous international traveler. I know what's waiting for me on the other end of this 14 hour travel is going to be amazing ... but the feeling hasn't quite caught up with the knowing.

I miss you all.

taking a first leap

2008-08-05T14:06:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure it’s public knowledge but I have what I like to call a strong apprehension toward heights. What that really means is that I avoid heights altogether so I never have to face what is probably more of a fear than an apprehension. I was never a tree climber. It took me 16 years to work up the courage to go on a roller coaster and another 4 after that to go on Splash Mountain. I worked at Ramah for 3 summers and never went near the climbing tower.

After breakfast this morning, the Fellows and I boarded a bus to return to Camp Deer Run where, yesterday, I was hoisted 6 ft. in the air and passed laterally through a hole in a net. Today, was the high ropes course.

Let me describe the course to you. You climb to the stop of a fairly standard sized ladder and then climb a few large hooks on a tree. You then do a funky Tarzan move that allows you to climb onto a sort of bridge that starts at about 10 ft. off the ground and continues upward to about 20 ft. The bridge is like a horizontal ladder – wooden panels spaced about 2 or 3 ft. apart and connected by two ropes on either side. Another Tarzan move is required to pull yourself onto a platform where you swing with a rope onto another platform about 6 ft. away. A very advanced Tarzan move is required to get yourself onto what can only be described as 20 ft. tightrope with ropes at arm level for support. After those 20 ft. the rope below disappears and it replaced by loops of ropes that you put your feet into. And then you fling yourself off a platform.

Ok. Admittedly you are strapped in with a million hooks and ropes. There is pretty much no way you are going anywhere in the direction of down. And the flinging? Well, you are supposed to jump off the platform into the air but about 7 people are holding an advanced rope mechanism that allows you to be safely lowered the ground.

But let me be clear. Harness or no harness. This ropes course is about a million ft. in the air. And, under normal circumstances, as evidenced by the last 22 years of my life, I would have nothing to do with it.

But in two days I leave for Jerusalem. I’m going to fly half way across the world to a country where I don’t speak the language and have to build a life for a year. As excited as I am for the year ahead, I have a strong apprehension toward (read: am afraid for) the next few weeks.

So up I went. I practically had a panic attack on the first platform when I looked down and realized I’d never been that high before without four walls and a ceiling. But I had no reason not to do it except that I was afraid. And I didn’t want to be that person. For that moment and for a million moments like it that will inevitably present themselves in the next year and in my life.

When I stood on the very edge of the platform at the end, I thought, “I just have to take the leap.” And so I shut my eyes and grabbed the rope and just jumped into the air.

Please don't drop me ...

2008-08-04T21:38:00.000-07:00

One of the strangest things I've experienced is the way time warps when I'm at camp. The days are so long. In one day at camp, more things happen, more relationships are formed, and more questions are asked and answered that in a week in the "real world." This orientation for the Dorot Fellowship has not been quite as intense as Ramah, but definitely reminiscent of that intensified bonding experience.

Yesterday was an overwhelming day to say that least. I took a taxi from La Guardia Airport to a hotel in the Upper West Side in NYC and spent several hours milling up and down Broadway and taking deep do-not-panic-you-will-be-ok yoga breaths. I met the other fellows at 3 PM and was quickly whisked onto a bus where we drove to the Nevele Resort in the Catskills for a day of information and introductions.

A word about Nevele. If you haven't seen the movie Dirty Dancing 1) this reference will be lost on you and 2) you need to watch it now. (Seriously. Let go of whatever qualms you have about bad 80s chick flicks and just rent it. It's definitely a classic in its own right.) The Nevele is much like the resort in Dirty Dancing ... except it's pretty much empty. Apparently, the Nevele is one of many hotels in what used to be called the "Borscht Belt" - an informal term for the hotels in the Catskills that were frequented by New York Jews in the 1940s, 50s, and 60s. There are big rooms called, for example, the Stardust Ballroom and the Globe Dining Room. I suspect at one time this place was the place to be, but right now it has a very eerie, abandoned, way past it's peak feeling. It will certainly be a running joke for the Dorot Fellows for the next year.

This morning, I woke up in my bed in the Nevele Resort after a very nice night of sleep and headed down to breakfast with my roommate, and fellow Fellow (haha!) Rebecca. After breakfast, we spent the morning doing team building exercises and the like. After lunch, we went to a nearby camp (Camp Deer Run) for a more physical team building experience. I'll save you the details except for my daredevil moment.

We were brought into the woods a bit where there were two trees about 10 feet apart. Between the trees were two ropes -- one about 3 in. from the ground and the other about 6 in. from the ground. Between these two ropes and the two trees was this strange intersection of wires that were tied in every direction to create a net with about 15 different "holes" (See picture below ... not of us but of a similar activity.)

The rules were as follows: everyone has to pass through the net. Once you pass through a hole in the net no one else can pass through that hole. You cannot touch the wires. You cannot touch the ropes. You cannot touch the tree. If you do, you and everyone who has made it through have to go back. Sounds easy enough right? Wrong! Only about 6 of the holes are at the ground level. Which meant that after much deliberation, I found myself hoisted into the air to be passed laterally through a hole in the net about 6 ft. off the ground. It was actually an incredible experience and a real bonding opportunity!

After dinner, we each got an opportunity to share "how we got into this room." I found myself surrounded by 11 of the most interesting, intelligent, and passionate people I've had the joy of knowing. The fellows range in age from 22 to 29. Everywhere from Florida (me!) to San Francisco to Toronto. Reform, Conservative, Modern Orthodox and many, many including myself who working on those little logistics (or working on how to exist in the Jewish world without those labels.) Vegetarians and not, Kosher and not, fluent in Hebrew and not. Each one is very different but all with a very exhilarating desire to affect change in American Jewry and the world. They all said things that really resonated with me and I look forward to getting to know them better throughout the year (and, as we have been told, my life.)

It is now very late and I have to get some sleep before another full day. I miss you all.

Mazel Tov Sarah and Jason!!! I'm so happy for you. :)

S is for Skype

2008-08-02T07:55:00.000-07:00

If you are already savvy with Skype, you can skip this entry (unless of course you are so deeply entertained by my witty sense of humor that you just can't pull yourself away.)

Skype is one of the best ways to communicate with people who are abroad and it will be one of the best ways to communicate with me while I am in Israel. It's easy and it's FREE.

In order to use Skype, you need 4 things: 1) a computer 2) the internet 3) speakers 4) microphone. If your computer doesn't have a built-in microphone, you can purchase one for about $20.

You can buy a microphone like the one here:
http://www.bestbuy.com/site/olspage.jsp?skuId=8525704&st=microphone&lp=9&type=product&cp=1&id=1186007538787

Or you can buy a headset with a microphone like the one here:
http://www.bestbuy.com/site/olspage.jsp?skuId=8525633&st=microphone&lp=2&type=product&cp=1&id=1186007538509

Once you have all the equipment, setting up Skype is pretty easy.

1. Go to www.skype.com. In the top toolbar, click "Download." A file called SkypeSetup.exe will start to download automatically. If it doesn't, you can click "start the download again."
2. A program called Skype Setup should be on your desktop. Double-click the program and it will open.
3. Follow the instructions. Select "English" as the language and click the box that says "Yes, I have read and accept ..." Then click "Install."
4. A program called Skype should install and open. Fill in the information to create an account.
5. Skype will then provide you with pretty detailed instructions about what to do. But just in case ... click the button on the left that says "add a new contact." Search for "Allison Rose" and I am one of the first ones to come up. (My Skype name is rockaroo32.)
6. Click my name and then "Add Skype Contact." You can even add a message.

Once you have followed these steps, my name will appear on your list of contacts. If I am not signed into Skype, there will be a little grey question mark next to my name. If I am signed into Skype, there will be a green check mark next to my name.

Want to make a call? Calling someone on Skype is just like calling someone on the phone. Click on my name and then click the dark green phone. You will hear a ringing sound and so will I. If I'm at my computer and signed on to Skype, I will pick up and say "Hi!"

Is someone calling you? If someone calls you, the same rules apply. You'll hear a ringing sound and the name of the person calling will be in the center of the screen. Click on the green phone to pick up. Click on the red phone to hang up or ignore the call.

If you have questions (or just want to say hi!) send me an email at allison.e.rose@gmail.com. Good luck!

Shalom!

2008-08-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

I set up this blog a few weeks ago but I just couldn't decide when to start blogging. This is, after all, a blog devoted to my adventure in Israel but when exactly does an adventure begin? I have decided that since there are three suitcases strew across my carpet in my home in South Florida, there is no denying that we are officially on the brink of an adventure.

I am sure you are wondering about a few things. For example, the word "blogging." Wikipedia says that the word "blog" is a contraction of the term "web blog" and is a "website usually maintained by an individual with regular entries of commentary, description of events, of other material such as graphics or video." "Blogging," then, is the action of posting or editing one's blog. (For those of you looking for a Facebook-alternative to your procrastination efforts, check out the history, origins, and rise in popularity of blogs on the "Blog" Wikipedia entry.) (For those of you wondering what on earth Facebook and Wikipedia are, I'm sorry. That will have to be for another time.)

Another thing: my blog's name. www.allichatool.com. Chatool is the Hebrew word for cat. (Or as Max put it, chatool is my "interesting attempt at spelling the word cat." He would have opted for "chatul.") Somehow I think the nickname AlliCat doesn't translate as well in Hebrew, but the name wasn't taken and I thought it was funny. (Although it was pretty late at night and my ability to differentiate funny from ridiculous tends to suffer as the night wears on.)

I suspect you weren't actually wondering about the word "blogging" or about the intricacies of my blog name. Or at least not as much as you are wondering why (or how) I am going to Israel. (By the way ... if you've made it far in enough in my ramblings to get to this explanation I have high hopes for you.) I received the Dorot Fellowship which makes me a 2008-2009 Dorot Fellows. The Dorot Fellowship is designed to empower a network of young Jewish lay leaders to enliven the American Jewish landscape. Twelve 22-30 year old Jews are chosen as Dorot Fellows each year to live in Israel where they sharper the characteristics and skills, acquire the experience, and broaden the networks required for Jewish leadership in the 21st Century. For more information about the fellowship, check out the website: www.dorot.org/DFI.

My flight leaves tomorrow from Ft. Lauderdale Airport at 7:15 am. The other 11 fellows, the Dorot staff, and I are meeting at a hotel in New York City. We are then traveling to the Nevele Resort in the Catskills for a multi-day orientation to the Dorot Fellowship.

Have a good weekend!