Aliyah: It's as easy as opening a bank account...

A Family Holiday

2012-01-04T20:23:00.006+02:00

My mother always jokes how Pesach is a "family holiday". It's a week-long occasion when for better or worse everyone is more or less stuck under one roof making varying efforts to get along with each other. It's beautiful to be together, and everybody breathes a huge sigh of relief when it's all over.

Two weeks ago my family celebrated a family holiday of a different sort. On December 23rd, my Grandma Rose turned 100. When Gila and I started discussing logistics for the gan, on the list was how I would take off for this occasion. Chanukah vacation was planned accordingly. I was not going to miss this. My brother and his family made their plans to come in from Israel and my sister made plans to come in from DC. We were all going to be together. No yom tov and a house with an endless supply of bagels and muffins- this was going to be good.

It was spectacular. After my grandma got over the crazy idea that we all just came because we thought she was dying, we all shared a special weekend together. The birthday cards came pouring in. A "little birdie" (who I call Ema) made sure that cards were received from President Obama and Governor Patrick. One of the most beautiful acknowledgements came from Yad Sarah, an organization my grandmother has supported for years. They posted a birthday message to my grandmother on their digital message board outside the building and had it up for all of Chanukah.

On Grandma Rose's actual birthday we had a photographer come to do family pictures. I had been trying to get at least my siblings to do this for years and they would just whine about it. Suddenly everyone thought it was a great idea. I can't wait to see how they came out.

Visitors came throughout the day and over shabbat. Grandma Rose got a phonecall from her cardiologist and a special visit from her visiting nurse and cardiac nurse. They brought her flowers, as did tens of other people. This visit made my grandmother's day and she was glowing through shabbat dinner after they left. Her day health aide had bought a camera special for the occasion of her birthday and took a picture of them. These people have kept my grandmother alive and healthy, and we are grateful for their love and care.

My niece and her parents arrived just in time for the first night of Chanukah. Having four generations light candles together was really special. On Saturday night everyone was together. Can't remember the last time the three of us siblings were together for Chanukah.

My trip started out with my usual jumping around from place to place. I spent my first morning at my Aunt and Uncle's house in New Jersey and then journeyed to NY for an evening out with friends. It's always fun making a bunch of friends for all different times in my life have dinner together and all become friends with each other. But for most of my trip I stayed still. Well, I spent hours and hours at stores shopping for the gan and once in awhile for myself, but I more or less stayed still. I got to light Chanukah candles every night with my family and see my niece every morning when I woke up ("Becca jammies!") and best of all was the monkey pajama party with my niece (we both have footsie pajamas with a monkey on them).

We are confident that Grandma Rose enjoyed her birthday. We did not know what to expect. I hope she realized that we were there fully to celebrate her long life and not in anticipation of what is to come. As exciting as it is to have a grandmother that old it is incredibly daunting, but every day since I got back I have thought about how beautiful my trip and her birthday celebration was.

It was a family holiday, but one we are still celebrating.

Opening a gan: It's as easy as....

2011-10-16T09:05:00.004+02:00

It is Succot, which means I have a week and a half off from gan. I have a whole list of exciting things to get done this week: cleaning my room, starting my final paper for my MA program, getting a blood test. Exciting, right? This year the fun will have to wait a bit and I will enjoy the simple relief of catching up on life.

On August 31st Gila and I opened Gan Shelanu. We did it. We have a beautiful three room apartment with a yard Gila's husband slaved away to make safe. The three of us painted one wall of each room in bright shades of orange, green, and blue. There are really cute animal wall stickers up everywhere. My favorite is the dragonfly sitting on a hippo's nose.

The Friday before gan started we thought we had 12 kids. Two days later it was 10, and somehow on the first day of gan we had 7. We had to let our wonderful hired staff go, which sucked. I felt that we failed them. They just moved to Israel, and the last thing I wanted to do was have others experience disappointment like I experienced with some babysitting jobs when I got here. Aside from that we had no time to dwell on our misfortune. And anyway, misfortune is all relative. We were about to fulfill our dream.

Thursday, September 1st, was the first day the kids had in gan without their parents. We had given the parents strict instructions to come early and leave quickly. No saying "just 5 more minutes". One kid cried. Just one! Out of seven! One mom left with tears in her eyes. When she came for pick-up (just two hours later) she told us that she had been in labor with this kid for five days, and that those were the hardest two hours of her life. Her daughter, of course, did not even want to leave, and seemed indifferent to her mom showing up at all.

The next day, two kids cried, but only a little. Clearly we're doing something right here.

Six weeks have flown by. We pretty much have our routine down. The kids come in, push their parents out the door, and settle in to play. Breakfast is prepared during morning circle time and lunch is prepared while they are outside. For circle time we do stretches (much inspired by our gym classes with Mr. D. at Maimo) and sing "ידיים למעלה" as well as "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes". We sing it slowly, then really fast, and then "so fast if you blink you'll miss it!"

We fully encourage them to eat with their hands if that is what is more comfortable for them (and gets more food in their mouths). They can eat standing up if they stay right next to the table. Kids should be comfortable when they eat. They may only eat from their own plates, and we are trying to get them out of the habit of eating off the floor instead of just asking for more. We also try to discourage spitting out pre-chewed food and feeding it to your neighbor. Anything not finished by the other kids by the end of the meal gets piled onto the plate of this one kid who will eat almost anything and eat until there is no food left. After meals we take them one by one into the bathroom to be hosed down (sometimes literally). One girl even has her own towel for after we've cleaned the sauce off her stomach and from under her armpits. Lets just say many of our stories from gan are gross stories about the kids' eating habits, but gan is all about learning life skills, right?

After breakfast the kids play outside or we go on short walks. We had been singing "Wheels on the Bus" a lot so we went up to the main street by our gan and watched buses go by and talked about what color they are (green). Then we went back to gan and painted a cardboard bus cutout green. Then I had fun drawing pictures of a bus driver beeping the horn and made doors that go open and shut. The kids helped me attach them. Before Succot we walked down the small road behind the gan and collected branches that could be used for schach for a Succah. The day before Succot vacation we walked to the home of one of the kids and visited his Succah.

We finally figured out how to get all the kids napping at the same time, and to be asleep for at least a half hour after the two short day kids leave. Singing "המלאך" 5000 times in a row just wasn't working for all of them. One parent gave us a fan for the napping room so the kids would wake up less sweaty. Fans create white noise. White noise keeps kids asleep. Amazing. On one of the first days the kids all slept, Gila and I skipped the chicken we served for lunch and downed a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream after all the kids were asleep. The joys of being your own boss.

A couple weeks ago we got our first new kid. Things hadn't worked out for her at the gan she started at. Her parents came in to see the gan one last time before making their decision. They went outside to confer for a moment, and came back in and asked if they could just leave her there for the rest of the day. We were sitting at breakfast, and the other kids were marveling at how this child was wearing a shirt and had on not one but two shoes. We told the kids that yes, this was another child JUST like them. They were amazed. The next day when this new girl was picked up her father told us how much of a relief it was to see his child smiling at the end of the day. We can only imagine what her old gan was like, but this was the best compliment we could ever receive.

We now have four prospective kids to start after Succot. Three of them are boys. We currently have seven girls and one boy. This should make things interesting. Throughout September I felt like we were holding our breaths waiting for new kids. Now that we have them, it is a huge relief. Sure enough we built it and they came (two of my favorite things in life- gan and baseball).

I am asked all the time HOW I opened a gan. If I were to write a guidebook (which my final MA paper will hopefully somewhat resemble) I could write a whole chapter about scavenging government websites for rules and regulations, most of which are impossible to follow (and we have chosen not to- as most private ganim do. I could also write about finding a good accountants. Ours is a wonderful and patient man. When he asked how the gan was doing I felt he was asking because it interested him personally, and not just because he needed to know so he could file my taxes. As for finding a bank, well I think opening this gan might have actually been easier than opening my now closed Discount Bank account (opened when I made aliyah), but opening our account for the gan was a pleasant and pain-free experience. Our account is at Bank HaPoalim on Emek Refaim. As an example of the amazing service we get there, the other day I came in and the clerk called out to me that she had a pile of papers to get through before she could meet with me, but that I should please come sit in her cubicle because she wanted to hear ALL about the gan as she worked.

I think I have written before about finding a location for our gan. We looked at yad2 ten times a day, made numerous phonecalls, got rejected constantly, and lost a lot of sleep. We are grateful to the family who is letting us use their apartment for our gan. We are also grateful to our kids who were all sitting around the table eating nicely when the owner (a tiny Israeli woman) made a surprise visit. It didn't hurt that all the kids smiled and said bye when she left. The apartment has been transformed into a beautiful gan that has become like a second home to us and the kids. I think this was the most miraculous part of the project.

To find the kids, we advertised on every relevant listserv. I snuck around putting fliers up around the area (don't be fooled by the thousands of fliers covering lightpoles- it is actually illegal to post things). Our best advertisers, and also our best supporters throughout this whole ordeal, were our friends and family. Yes you need ambition and be ready to work hard to open your own business, but most importantly you need people to back you up and cheer you up when for a moment it looks like the whole plan is falling apart. I have grown to appreciate my friends and family a tremendous amount over the past year, which is possibly the best gift that could come from this gan. It was especially special to realize who great friends I've made in the short four years I have lived in Israel. I was happy to express my appreciation with the seudat shlishit I hosted before Rosh Hashannah and the party in the gan we hosted Erev Succot.

When I tell people what I have done, they are amazed, and my disbelief grows. I never imagined myself with my own business (or rather sharing a business with a friend of twenty years). Despite the disbelief, it also seems so natural. Of course I opened a gan. Of course in my gan, the kids can eat with their hands, be silly, and most importantly be themselves (whether being themselves at any moments means jumping up and down, needing five feet of personal space, or throwing a tantrum because they can't find their shoes upon waking up from their nap). It is still going to take a long time for this all to become routine- if it ever does become routine. Every day in Gan Shelanu amazes me, and I couldn't ask for anything more of my life at this point, just a few weeks before my 27th birthday.

I thought of the name Gan Shelanu because Gila and I kept calling it "our gan" and besides the simple translation, I have always felt that Gan Shelanu has been bigger than us and belongs to everybody who took part in creating it- our friends for hearing out our complaining, our family for their generous support and donation of many of the toys and furniture, Hodaya for being our Toddler Consultant, the parents for trusting us both as educators and as entrepreneurs, and most importantly the kids who continue to shove their parents out the door every morning.

I see some irony in writing about fulfilling a dream after a year of so many sleepless nights (and probably more nightmares than dreams). I don't even know when this went from something hypothetical Gila and I would joke about and turned into a dream. I feel like it became a dream somewhere between being hypothetical and us realizing how not simple it would be. Deciding it was our dream, and not just something we were going to do, is probably what kept us going.

As we get closer to post-chaggim life and really starting a new year, I wish everyone the will-power, ambition, and most importantly the support from amazing friends like mine to do what you want to do, how you want to do it, and when you want to do it. We should all have dreams, big ones and small ones. Just pick one and go for it.

Learning to get along

2011-08-09T16:46:00.004+03:00

This past Sunday was my final day in gan, and while there is much to write about my gan experience and the future that lies ahead of me, today is Tisha B'Av, so I will save many of those thoughts for another time.

When it came to teaching about bad things that happened to the Jewish people, we tended to water things down a bit. We had to be careful not to scare the kids, and we also wanted to focus their attentions on certain aspects of the story. For example, Haman was not an evil man. He was a not very nice man that did bad things. We wanted the children to understand the connection between one's actions and how others view that person, the connection between one's action and their impact on the world around them.

Probably one of my biggest frustrations where I worked these past two years is how quickly certain children developed reputations which got them tossed into timeout if they merely brushed against the person next to them. Okay, by "brush" I mean they knocked down a block tower or pushed a kid, but my colleagues all too often did not stop to really think about the child's actions and consider why they happened aside from thinking "well he always hits kids, so he must have started it."

In interviewing for assistants for my gan I posed the following question: Child A (as known to do) comes over to Child B and pulls a toy car out of his hand. In response, Child B shoves Child A backwards. Both children are now crying/upset, and Child A is hurt. He is shouting that he took the toy because he wanted it. Child B is upset because he was busy playing with that toy. The idea behind this question was to talk about emotional development and legitimizing children's feelings. Child B needs to know that his feelings of anger are legitimate, but his reaction can be worked on for the future. Child A needs to know that we, the teachers, understand that he got hurt, and that we agree hitting is wrong, but also that his feeling that he can have whatever he wants without asking or without waiting his turn is not okay.

I obviously did not pull this story put of my head. It is something that happened all the time at gan. This particular Child A was often grabbing toys away and getting upset when they were grabbed back. Child B would often hit other children, though I realized especially throughout the second year that he was almost never one to start a fight- and there were plenty of kids like that. There were kids who walked around purposefully knocking down block towers and disrupting play. Child B was not like that. You could tell that he knew he hit because he was upset, and that he tried really hard to curb those emotions and use his words instead of his fists. Sometimes you could even see him clench his fists, take deep breaths, and then come over to a teacher for help instead of fighting back.

Unfortunately while I often pointed this out to my colleagues, I am not convinced they ever saw things my way. They were overall great to work with, I learned a tremendous amount, and I understand that burnout often influenced their reactions towards the kids. I rarely saw emotional development as a priority, and that bothered me (though it only started bothering me as I gained experience and personal growth as an educator). Maybe it's the sabra Israeli attitude, but I started realizing that things were going to be different when I was in charge.

Sometimes you learn a lot about yourself by watching others experience the same thing. You can also learn a lot about yourself by watching young children. Young children are new at everything. They do not yet understand themselves let alone others. When a 2 year old's block tower gets demolished, you might as well have knocked their house down. It is absolutely tragic- something they built with their own hands is no longer there. Kids get angry and upset over all sorts of things. They hit and kick and bite and burst into tears that only end an hour later. But little by little they learn perspective. They learn that they are not alone in the world, and that there are others with feelings just like theirs.

I could get into a whole essay about emotional development, but I am on a bit of a break from my schoolwork and I don't think that's necessary. I just want to express my gratitude to the children I spent the last two years with. Among so many other things, they taught me compassion. Yes, I know when my own feelings are legitimate and can usually appropriately take part in a friend's happiness or sadness, but watching these feelings develop on the most basic level was absolutely inspiring. I think feeling is something often taken for granted. We get angry at ourselves for being upset over something trivial, but hey, maybe at this moment it's worth getting upset over. We should always believe that are feelings are legitimized, but we should always be conscious to how our feelings affect our interactions with other people.

Every month in gan we had a Rosh Chodesh celebration. Part of it included going up to the Beit Knesset to learn about that month. The director told the kids that during the month of Av there is Tisha B'Av, and that Tisha B'Av is a day when a lot of sad things happened to the Jewish people. One of these things was the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash and Jerusalem. As experts on what happened on Chanukah and well versed in stories of heroism for Yom Yerushalayim, the kids really understood what it meant for Jerusalem to be destroyed and the need to rebuild it again. The director also told them that one reason bad things happened was because people weren't be very nice to each other, and that people were finding it difficult to be good friends.

As the end of the year drew near, the kids were at each others throats much more often. While they might not have really understood that they were about to leave the gan and go their separate ways, they clearly felt that they had been in the same room with each other every day for a very long time. A lot of kids were finding it really hard to be good friends. They also were starting to realize that they knew each other extremely well. They knew how to push every one's buttons, but they also knew when to give their friend a hug or simply stand nearby during a tough moment. Getting along is not easy, but it can be learned given the right environment.

This is only my second day since finishing my two years at the gan, and it is also Tisha B'Av. My mind is still racing with reflections on my experience in the gan- my first real job experience. I am thinking about how grateful I am for the opportunity to work there and how it has gotten me to the point where I can move forward with mine and Gila's plans for our own gan.

Tisha B'Av is about remembering the past and looking towards the future. I'm not claiming that by putting a strong focus on emotional development in my new gan that I will pave the way for World Peace and the end of destruction in our time. Observing Tisha B'Av has a lot to do with conjuring up emotions and understanding our feelings about ourselves, each other, and the place of ourselves and the Jewish People in the world. Emotion is a tricky thing. I saw it in my kids at gan, and I see it in myself. What the kids at gan reminded me is that there is always learning to be done when it comes to emotions, but that it cannot be done without the help of our friends and those we look up to. We are allowed to be angry at each other. Anger is a legitimate feeling. We are also allowed and able to help our friend recreate their tower, invite them into our make-believe game about princesses and monsters, and make a place for them next to us at the table.

On days like Tisha B'Av we ask for compassion from Hashem, but maybe we should be demanding more compassion for each other. If the 4-year-olds can figure it out, I think we can too.

למרות הכל... אין לי ארץ אחרת

2011-06-01T17:45:00.004+03:00

A wise man with the initials ASB once said, "the greatest wisdom is facebook is that everyone can have a complicated relationship with everything." This was in response to my complaint that the Rikudegalim (flag parade) for Yom Yerushalayim was rerouted this year in the stupidest way ever for even more ridiculous reasons. If my favorite event of the year was going to be ruined, it could at least be for logical reasons. However I live in Israel, in the city of Jerusalem, and after four years here if I still expect logic there's no way I'll make it through another four years. Like so many other things, my relationship with this country is often complicated.

So here I am, living in the holiest city of the world. The municipality claims I owe 50 shekels in property taxes for the last five days of 2010 even though I have a receipt for paying the entire 2010 bill. I am trying to open a business, which is an insane idea as it is, and I expect people sitting five feet from each other in the same office to be able to transfer my call from one to the other so that I can get correct information about how to do things legally. Today I actually met someone from the municipality and she was astonished to hear that no one she said I should call ever answers their phone.

But I digress... okay fine, I can go on a bit more. Alright I'll stop. This is supposed to be my annual optimistic no-venting post.

Today at gan this boy (who made aliyah two weeks before gan started last year) was quietly singing שישו את ירושלים to himself and doing a little dance with it. I think I teared up. A few weeks ago when we celebrated Yom Haatzmaut at gan, I loved watching the kids wave their flags and sing כחול ולבן זה הצבע שלי. Then Yom Haatzmaut night I was in town with thousands upon thousands of people who were simply overjoyed to be celebrating another year of a sovereign Jewish state. Today marks 44 years since Jerusalem was taken back, and while I am annoyed at the parade situation I keep thinking how unbelievable it is how different this city was under a half century ago. As much as I dread going to Hebrew U these days, it's a small miracle going through where Mandelbaum Gate once stood. No small miracle.

Miracles. That is what I love about living here. In Israel and I feel especially in Jerusalem, no small miracle is taken for granted. Every little thing seems to mean so much here. It goes back to what I wrote in my essay for Nefesh B'Nefesh when I made aliyah. I decided to make aliyah because I knew what I could contribute to society, and I felt it would mean so much more if I contributed to society here in Israel.

I am grateful to my friends who have been so supportive over the past year as Gila and I work on opening our gan. While sometimes I feel nagged when asked the same questions over and over again that I still don't have answers too, they have been there for me all the way. I know my friends are proud of me, and I am proud of them for taking an interest in my life and in general the way we all look out for each other.

In September Gila and I will be opening our gan, which will be nothing short of a big miracle, but I am looking forward to it being a place where lots of small miracles happen. It will be a place where little Israeli boys and girls learn to jump and skip, to share and work together. I can't wait until next year at this time when I hear a kid humming כחול ולבן and think "Hey, I taught him that!". It's going to be one more way I put my roots down in this country- one more step towards fully realizing my dream to live in Israel.

Every year I feel like Yom Haatzmaut and Yom Yerushalayim come to remind us how we all felt when we came to Israel on teen tours or to learn for the year after high school. We feel that silly giddiness about being so happy to be in Israel and for a few weeks we might even forget all the nonsense real life throws at us here. Every year we need it- maybe even more than each year before.

This year I have some other reminders. My cousin Stuart just posted the draft of the family tree project he did of my Grandma Elka's mother's family. My grandmother's father was a lower middle class tailor in Chicago, but was also a leader of the Zionist Commonwealth (as it seems it was called). He never made it to Israel but always fought for its existence. My grandmother planned to make aliyah shortly after the State of Israel was founded, but the plans fell through and she only visited a couple times throughout her life. I had been to Israel ten times before I made aliyah. The fact I could come so many times is a miracle in itself. I've been thinking about my family history a lot lately, and I feel that my living in Israel is in their merit. I think about and remember my Grandma Elka- how much she missed me but how proud of me she was, and that's sometimes what keeps me going here.

עומדות היו רגלינו בשעריך ירושלים
We once stood in the gates of Jerusalem. We stand in Jerusalem again, and we're not going anywhere this time.

שישו את ירושלים בגילו בה כל אוהביה

"Speak my name and I shall live"

2011-03-03T12:21:00.004+02:00

“Speak my name and I shall live.” This is what my Grandma Elka lived by for her last few years and what she requested be written on her gravestone. As I write this I am on the train from Philadelphia to Boston, possibly for the last time - at least for awhile. Yesterday was Grandma Elka’s funeral, and by writing this I hope her name gets spoken that much more so that the memory of her life may live that much longer. I also have been informed by my Aunt Rena that when you google my grandmother’s name only one person comes up (as does this blog), so I’m going to give everyone something to talk about.

I received the news of my grandmother’s passing on Sunday while I was at work. One of the kids had just had his hand run over by a toy truck and of course was having an emotional breakdown. My phone rang, I answered, my mom immediately told me that she died, and I said I would call back in an hour and hung up. I was working with a sub, so I could not leave the room. Okay, I told myself, suck it up, hold it in, and get through this next hour. I acted as if nothing had happened. I doubt even my expression gave anything away. As I left my brother called. I told him to give me time to go home and let the news sink in. When I got home I broke down for maybe ten minutes. Then I got up, sent some important overdue emails, emailed my professor for the class I was supposed to be at today, sent my lead teacher at gan a text message telling her I might disappear over the next 24 hours, and shortly after that went to my brother’s apartment.

I haven’t really cried since then. Once in awhile I get teary-eyed thinking about something my Grandma Elka said or did, but it always seems like I simultaneously have a huge grin on my face. And no, thinking back on yesterday’s events, I’m all smiles. Yesterday was an incredibly special day. My parents got into Philadelphia Monday afternoon. Sam and I took an overnight flight Monday night to Newark and got to my grandmother’s house shortly after 9am. An hour or so later my sister arrived from Washington, DC. This was the first time the five of us were together in two years. Next my cousins arrived. My Aunt Cookie and Uncle John arrived with my cousin Dan and his wife Xhen who came in from California. I saw both of them last summer before they moved. Then my cousin Seth arrived and shortly thereafter my Aunt Rena and Uncle David arrived with my cousin Josh. I had not seen Seth in maybe ten years (I think I saw Josh since then). In any case, it was the first time all six of us cousins were together since Seth’s bar mitzvah. Seth graduated college last year.

Before my parents left Boston, my Grandma Rose told my mom that it’s a shame my Grandma Elka wouldn’t be around to see her grandchildren all together. My mom’s response was “How do you know that she didn’t orchestrate all this?”. Within minutes of being reunited each other we were busy getting things ready (in Philadelphia they throw rather lavish “after parties” for funerals) but also chatting and laughing about our Grandma. Grandma Elka always had stories to tell, and she left no shortage of stories to be told about her. The fun continued to the funeral home, where as we waiting for the funeral to start we continued the story telling. The funeral director gave us a look as he told us that it was time to quiet down and move into the chapel. Once seated in the first two rows, he had to tell us again to calm down as people were beginning to arrive. It wasn’t so easy - we were enjoying each other’s company so much. The place filled up with more relatives, Grandma Elka’s friends of all ages, her gardener, my dad’s 7th grade math teacher, and a couple friends of mine and my siblings who were so wonderful to come. My cousins and I were given the incredible honor of escorting Grandma Elka to her final resting place. In my mind I gave her a kiss and got one of her classic and strong Grandma Elka hugs in return.

But enough about that. Funerals are boring. Well, when my Aunt Rena ended her eulogy of Grandma Elka with one of her dirty jokes it was certainly not boring, but I will leave that one for the end as well. It will certainly make you remember my grandma and speak of her more (which is what I’m going for). Lets start with the beginning of her life. We would always say she’s so old that she was there when they invented the wheel. She would always insist that she was the one who gave them the idea. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t REALLY what happened. She was born while there was legislation in the works for giving women the right to vote (which they got shortly after Grandma Elka was born). This event was never lost on my Grandma.

I think that any one at any time can be considered a part of history in the making, and that living through the Great Depression, World War II, and everything thereafter won’t in another hundred years be considered a bigger deal than the great events I am living through now. But wow, what a time to be growing up then. Furthermore, what a time to be growing up in when your father is one of the founders of the Zionist congress in Chicago. Grandma Elka was frequently surrounded by the stars of the Zionist movement and the State of Israel. At age 3 she sat on Chaim Wiezmann’s lap and he recited the shema with her before she went to bed. At age 6 she met Rav Avraham Kook on one of his visits to Chicago. When she was older she met Golda Meir and Louis Brandeis, a friend of her father’s. When I think about all this, I realize that my decision to make aliyah to Israel didn’t come out of nowhere. Grandma Elka was ready to do so herself in 1951, but then she suddenly found herself taking care of aging relatives. Her role as caregiver never ended as my grandfather became ill with Parkinson’s and she spent years caring for him. She insisted, in her practically and then completely bedridden condition, that if my parents decided to make aliyah she would be right behind them.

Grandma Elka was the keeper of the treasure trove of family stories. Most of the stories she told were probably even true. She was best for the skeleton-in-the closet ones - stories we thought only happened in the movies. She was also the one in the family who best took care of the children of those skeletons, welcoming them into her home and at her holiday dinner tables and often being the parent they never really had. I am grateful for my cousin Stuart, Grandma Elka’s nephew, who just over ten years ago began recording many of these stories. While she told the same ones over and over... and over and over again, I definitely did not inherit her phenomenal memory and I am glad someone took the time to preserve our family history. Whenever I came to visit, I had to be prepared to sit and listen, but what a treat it often was to do so.

Grandma Elka mostly reserved her lectures for phone calls. She even said that when I visited, she felt bad spending all my time with her telling me what I’m doing wrong. Also despite thousands of lectures about how to do my hair, what to wear, and the fifty year old pink shirt with blue sequins I must wear that she got on a trip to London that I MUST spend an hour searching the upstairs closet for, she would often pause and exclaim what a nice smile I had. On any visit she would inevitably tell me how much I looked like her grandmother (whose picture hung on the wall in the dining room) and then launch into a story about her.... which would usually lead into a story about how some other relative eloped, ran off to the West, or tried to bribe their brother into letting them adopt their niece (Grandma Elka being the niece, but lets leave that for another day). So as I said lectures were mainly for phone calls, which were at best once a week. She definitely had the attitude that she must get it all in while she can. Thank goodness for Skype and low call rates. I believe on my last phone call with her a week or two ago she told me that when I find a good guy I must grab him by the neck and reel him in. She then reminded me that as she did, I should only say yes to the third guy that proposes to me. I’ll see what I can do about that. At the cemetery the rabbi mentioned how funerals are a time to ask for forgiveness from the person who has just passed. I said to Grandma Elka’s lifelong friend Nita then I’m just sorry I couldn’t help her with her goal to catch up with Nita’s number of great-grandchildren (there are a lot of them).

Grandma Elka only had one great-grandchild, my niece Rinat Hodaya who was born just over a year ago. Grandma Elka met Hodaya last summer and was excited to see her again in a few weeks before Pesach. That she got to meet Hodaya at all was nothing short of a miracle. Last May we were told that Grandma Elka had taken a turn for the worse, and that while we had no reason to fly in we should be prepared for her to be gone by the end of the week. Somehow she made it through. She even agreed to finally start taking care of herself. Finally she had almost around the clock care, and health aides in addition to the ones who had been serving the family for over twenty years (and were grandmothers themselves). Perhaps it was too little too late, but what kept her going was the anticipation of finally meeting Hodaya, the great-grandchild born in a country she had once dreamed of living in herself.

Grandma Elka by that time was pretty much entirely bedridden. The surfaces in her room were covered with pictures of Hodaya. There is one picture there were two copies of - one on each side of the room so she could always see it. Grandma Elka claimed that Hodaya had an expression that said “Hello world, what are we going to do today?” and that attitude was what got her through these past through months. Nothing was ever going to slow my grandmother down. She spent her entire life planning events and looking towards the future, even during times she was sick at the hospital or in bed at home, and that was never going to change. Just a month ago she threw one of her famous post-birthday parties. These parties always took place a few weeks after her birthday because they were not just birthday parties, they were celebrations of life. She called this last party, the one following her 91st birthday, a celebration for the first day of the rest of her life. I believe it. Also just to tell a bit of what these parties entailed, they were held in her home, using fine china, a full setting of silverware for each guest, and usually involved a grandchild or two frantically running around, defrosting salmon she only remembered about minutes before guests started arriving, and having old ladies yell at her grandchild helpers for bringing luke warm water. Keep in mind that her guests were in their eighties and nineties and sat on folding chairs one up against the other. I had the, erm, pleasure of attending a few of these parties while in college. But who knows? Maybe in sixty years I’ll be inspired to do the same. I can only hope that I have the type of wonderful friends Grandma Elka had her entire life. Of course at my party I would probably just skip the fine china and bring out the fingerpaint.

Among the many other life lessons I learned from Grandma Elka, I learned to cherish my friends. Even when her health was declining she would find rides from friends to go visit friends who were in worst shape than her, and when she could no longer make it out she was still always good for a phone call. One of my favorite lines from her, in response to me commenting on how many friends she had, was “Well, there are friends, there are acquaintances, and then there are the relatives.” Maybe she really made these distinctions, but anyone from any of those groups (and anyone who could claim two or three degrees of separation from anyone) was always welcome at her Pesach seder or just to sleep over on a random night of the week.

My cousins and I are so fortunate to have had our grandmother in our lives for so long. I think it is so appropriate that she lived just past her 91st birthday. When she was 90 we thought we had lost her, but she snapped back and pushed herself those extra few months. They were months during which we all got to see her again, hear more stories, get more life advice, and months that gave her time for frequent Skype conversations with her great-granddaughter in Israel. Her friends say that she could never stop talking about us (although Hodaya kinda stole the show this past year!). She was proud of each and every one of us for our individual accomplishments and life goals. While on one hand she loved telling us what to do, she never doubted any decisions we made. While we knew she was always right, we knew she would love us no matter what.

Tuesday was exactly how it was supposed to be. Her children and grandchildren came together to laugh and celebrate her life. My cousin Dan said he had a dream the night after finding out she passed and in the dream Grandma Elka was running her own funeral and yelling at everyone for doing things wrong. She had, in fact, made her wishes very clear and they were being followed to the best of our abilities. However we knew exactly what Dan meant about his dream. I am sure she was shouting down from heaven that we were using the wrong napkins and that we should have used real dishes for when everyone came back to the house after the burial. My mom commented that all those years she made comments like “if anyone dares does X after I die I will haunt them” suddenly seems like a real threat as we wandered around her house putting sticky notes on the things we each wanted to keep and discussing how the house would be cleaned out. Before we went to bed we took out the last bits of Scotch we found in the liquor cabinet and made toasts to our grandmother, mostly about the individualized lectures we had all received over the course of our lives. I have no doubt that I will be hearing her voice in my head for years. Sometimes I feel like every time I get dressed for shul and look in the mirror I see her looking back at me frowning and contemplating what to tell me is wrong with my outfit before launching into a lecture about how fashion is not how it once was (Grandma Elka was a fashion designer in her day).

Grandma Elka’s influence on my life is visible every day. After years of family stories and history lectures (she read a few books a day ranging from history to sci-fi to trashy romance novels) I believe she was the driving force in me switching to be a History major my junior year. She instilled in me a love of learning and reading that I appreciate every single day. I am grateful for her treasure trove of family stories. It is an unbelievable thing to know so much about where I came from, where the family has been, and how our family history is tied into the history of everyone else. She once sat on Chaim Weizmann’s and recited shema with him, and now she has a great-granddaughter living in the country Weizmann’s helped create and learning to say shema every night. She believed so strongly in the State of Israel and while it meant only seeing her twice a year for two to three days at a time, she was so proud that two of her grandchildren had decided to make their home there. I admire her for giving up on a life dream to take care of her family, and while being so far away makes it very difficult sometimes I hope I can live up to her example even if I live 6,000 miles away.

Grandma Elka, we will speak your name for years to come, and your memory will live strongly in our hearts for the rest of our lives.

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A 10-year-old boy goes up to his mother and asks, “Mommy, what’s fornication?”. The mother goes beet red and quickly says “Go ask your father!”. The boy finds his father and asks, “Daddy, what’s fornication?”. His father shifts uncomfortably from foot and foot and says, “Go ask your grandmother!”. The boy goes to his grandmother and asks, “Grandma, what’s fornication?”. The grandmother says “Follow me.” and leads the boy upstairs to her room. She opens the door and motions for him to come in. The boy enters, and the grandmother beckons him towards her closet. He walks cautiously over to her and she opens the closet. The closet is full of all sorts of dresses and gowns from weddings, bar mitzvahs and gala dinners. She motions him even closer, pulls out one of the gowns, shoves it up close to the boy’s face and says, “See this? THIS is for-an-occasion.”

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יהיה זכרונה ברוך

To be progressive in Israel...

2010-12-08T21:45:00.006+02:00

Disclaimer: I will probably ramble a lot in this post.

For background knowledge, please refer to Wikipedia's entry on the Reform Movement, because lets face it, where else does background knowledge come from?

As many of you know, I work at a synagogue preschool that is part of the "Reform Movement for Progressive Judaism in Israel". Yeah, that's a mouthful. Wikipedia seems to have various theories on why in Israel the Reform Movement and Progressive Judaism go together. I wonder about this a lot.

First of all, lets think about how the Reform Movement started for a moment. It was a movement to make Judaism not tied down by halakhah and religious practice. As Wikipedia tells us:
Rabbi W. Gunther Plaut writes "there is no such thing as a Jewish theological principle, policy, or doctrine." This is because Reform Judaism affirms "the fundamental principle of Liberalism: that the individual will approach this body of mitzvot and minhagim in the spirit of freedom and choice. Traditionally Israel started with harut, the commandment engraved upon the Tablets, which then became freedom. The Reform Jew starts with herut, the freedom to decide what will be harut - engraved upon the personal Tablets of his life." [3]
The way I always understood it, the Reform Movement made being Jewish more cultural. Not that it claimed Judaism was not a religion, just that anything Jewish was done more out of a sense of tradition and not religious obligation.

In Israel, if you are Jewish you are one of two things- dati (דתי) or chiloni (חילוני). And then there are charedis (חרדים), but lets keep things simple for now. They really like labels here. As much as I tried in my years of college to avoid using labels, they are all over the place here. And it's not just the labels that get to me- it's the boxes. During my first year at Hebrew U I would often wind up davenning shacharit at school between my first two classes. There I was, an American, with a history degree but in a social work program (Israelis don't really get liberal arts degrees for the sake of having a liberal arts degree), wearing pants, and praying regularly. Huh? No box for me. Since I never really spoke with my classmates, I never had any explaining to do. I have friends who know I wear pants but pray every day and some who probably don't. For all I know they try to put me into a box too, but it's just never an issue.

Now I work with native Israelis every day. It is not only that I work with native Israelis, it is that I do so at a preschool affiliated with a synagogue. So it's a religious preschool, but not, because it's part of the Reform movement. What does that mean? I ask myself that question a lot. Not too many people in the school seem to really have a grasp on what the movement is all about, what role the school has, and what is expected of the teachers as teachers in a Reform preschool. While the school is affiliated with the synagogue, most of the families with children in the preschool rarely if ever attend services and other programming. It used to be a requirement for admission to the preschool and is no longer, though the director and board members are working on ways to integrate the two bodies more and make the preschool more a part of the synagogue.

After an excruciating three month wait after my interview, I was called in for a final interview to meet with the director and the lead teacher I would be working with (pending her approval). The teacher, a woman in her 40's who immigrated from Belarus about twenty years ago, asked me how as a religious person I would handle working in a Reform preschool where most people did not practice Judaism the way I did. I responded that being from Boston, which I've noticed in retrospect is very unique. In Boston the different Jewish communities all get along. They all do stuff together. There's just no other way to put it. People tell me it's all those liberal academics. Who knows? I'm just grateful I was raised the way I was. The lead teacher seemed a bit skeptical, but thankfully the director is familiar with the community and assured her that I would be fine.

After a hectic year of six day work weeks, constantly being sick, and three graduate school courses, I am in my second year at the gan and much more conscious of the actions and opinions of those around me. I am also much more prone to being irritated by said actions and opinions. After years of avoiding labeling myself, I often find myself forced to do so. So okay, I am a דתיה, a religious person. But what about my coworker who worries about getting all her cooking in time for shabbat but would drive to her friends if invited out for a meal on shabbat? Or my other coworker who almost always travels on shabbat but always does הפרשת חלה? But what most astounds me at my workplace is that my coworkers seem to simply forget that I'm דתיה. Apparently, it is not tattooed on my forehead. When they first met my father and saw that he was wearing a kippah, they were surprised that he is religious (and I don't think it was because they had previously thought that my being religious was a divergence from how I was raised). I try not to eat at breakfast at gan because seriously, I just don't care to stuff my face with bread every morning, and every day they ask me why I'm not eating. Whenever I'm not eating because it's a fast day, they get this look of shock on their faces. "Oh, right, you do that sort of thing, okay then." On a side note, I was recently saying ברכת המזון (blessing after eating) to myself while standing on the curb waiting for a ride with two classmates (one Israeli and one Arab- see previous post) and realized how uncomfortable I would feel doing that in front of my coworkers. They are also seemingly surprised each and every time I mention shabbat meals I'm going to, hosting, and worrying about having time to cook for. Does me wearing pants really throw them off that much!?!?

Another example- once the day's staff consisted of me, the first coworker I mentioned, and a teacher who usually works in another gan who spent just over ten years working in a Reform synagogue preschool in New York. We were discussing how once during the year there is a special service in the adjoining shul for each of the older classes. The teachers are expected to attend. For me this will be no problem, as I live around the corner, and will probably hop back and forth from the shul next door that I usually go to. But what about the teachers who live farther away, don't necessarily have cars? My coworker said to the other teacher that she wonders what this other teacher did when her class had the service last year. Then she said that she didn't even understand how this teacher, a דתיה (for lack of a better word) teaches in the gan I work at at all since it is not a gan for דתיים (I keep using the Hebrew word because saying "gan for religious people" messes up the point I am trying to make, as I hope I eventually make clear). The teacher who spent time in the US explained that it really doesn't matter and where she worked that was often the case. The teachers can practice Judaism one way and work in a community where things are done differently. If you have an open mind, it's not a big deal at all. I just sat there listening, and again thinking that she was forgetting about me. The conversation started out between the three of us, but she only raised this issue with the other Israeli and not with me. I don't think she would ever think to ask me how I feel about it.

Now finally on to what I really and truly do not understand about the place I work at and the movement in general. How are members of the Reform Movement for Progressive in Israel different from חילונים ("non-religious Israelis"). Are they simply חילונים who go to shul every week? Who attend lectures at centers like the one I work at? Does one have to consciously be a member of the movement in order to be considered one? In the US, despite being anti-labels, I still consider myself a part of the Orthodox community. That doesn't mean I consider myself a cookie cutter copy of everyone else in the community, but it is still the community I identify with and that others would associate me with regardless of how I felt about it. I feel like my coworker who religious observant-wise is probably a lot like the members of the synagogue where I work would be astounded and possibly insulted if I made that comparison.

One of my conclusions is that what places like where I work provide is a community for Israelis who are less observant than the typical "דתי" Israeli (I hate terms like "less observant"... lets say "people who do less Jewish practices on a regular basis). In America there is a synagogue for almost everyone- especially Jews with similar lifestyles to חילונים. The Reform movement is much more clear in America. It is much more cultural and less religious. In cultures, there aren't obligations. There are demands the community may place on you, but they aren't really obligatory. The Reform synagogues match that mentality. In Israel, Judaism IS the culture- for everyone. The Coca Cola bottles and public buses had Happy Chanukah written on them for the past week. From Thursday you wish everyone a shabbat shalom when you say goodbye, even if shabbat for them will be watching movies all night and going to the beach the next day. This reality is what influences thousands of people to make aliyah every year (though not me- while the buses on Chanukah make me smile I have other reasons for being here, but that is for another post). It also has some unfortunate repercussions, one of which being that if someone is searching for a community, a synagogue in Israel is not the place to find one. While you might get to see friends in shul every week they are simply places to pray and rarely have any community building programs in place (and those that do are recent developments).

Once I thought about it that way, the existence of the Reform Movement in Israel begins to make more sense, even though I'm still not convinced it should be associated by name with the Reform Movement in America. The cultures in the two places are just too dramatically different from each other. Okay, on to the second part of the name. In Israel, it is the Reform Movement for Progressive Judaism. Maybe the "Reform Movement for Progressive Israeliness" would make more sense. It is a movement that brings Israelis together who don't want to be shoved into the חילוני or דתי boxes- who take family trips to the zoo on shabbat but want to be part of a community that makes Jewish traditions a part of their active lives. It provides a framework and communal atmosphere for developing a Jewish identity as part of an Israeli one.

A couple staff meetings ago one of the educational directors of the movement came to speak to us about a pamphlet they just completed of a curriculum for the movement. I was so glad to find see this sort of thing in print form as I never really understood what the educational goals of the gan were, though I am sure the end of the year party my class had about how everyone keeps shabbat in their own way that had absolutely no mention of attending prayer services would not necessarily be in line with those goals. The stuff in the pamphlet wasn't so surprising to me. They chose things like lighting candles, blessings on food, and mitzvot about behavior among people (בין אדם לחברו) and wrote out ways to teach these things to different age groups. In addition to preschools like mine, there is a growing network of elementary, middle, and high schools aimed at filling the gap between religious and non-religious public schools in Israel (ממלכתי and ממלכתי דתי). This is again what I think is more an example of Progressive Israeliness than it is of Progressive Judaism. The schools are very much like the Schechter Day Schools in the US. They teach religious practice but leave things more open ended. I'm a fan. I just hope it doesn't just turn into another box to squish Jewish Israelis into (though I guess if a society is going to be dominated by boxes, I suppose the more the better.

I finally got inspired to write this blog post (a somewhat organized mumble jumble of various rants from the past year) after a conference I was forced to sit through on Monday of Chanukah. The conference was at a place like the one I work at in Tel Aviv. It was teachers at preschools that are part of the movement. Pretty much everyone there felt very strongly that we should be on vacation like any other teacher and not forced to sit through lectures, but sadly we had no say in the matter. The theme of the conference was תפילה (prayer). I am still unclear on what the goals of the conference were. From what I gathered, it was to provide an opportunity for us teachers to learn more about ourselves as people and not just talk about our work all day. I found the lectures themselves kind of boring, the sing-a-long at the beginning annoying, and the ride from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv with my coworkers excruciating (I left a bit early and traveled back on my own- worth the money I had to spend). I hoped the conference would help me understand the movement better, but then realized that while I might have been the most different person there, it was not apparent at all which teachers actually identify with the movement.

Between being bored, not being the type to talk about my feelings with strangers, and the language barrier, I pretty much spent the entire time sitting quietly watching the scenes unfold before me. This was a few days after the devastating fires up north and the day it finally rained, so much of what was said had to do with that. The feeling in the air that rainy day was absolutely phenomenal. Everyone was happy. Everyone was expressing their thanks to God that the rain had finally arrived, that the fires could finally end, and that the country could be healed and be nourished. It was the opposite of what had been felt the previous few days when the nation was devastated, the sadness palpable. Rain is like Chanukah. All the Jews in Israel celebrate Chanukah, and all the Jews in Israel (well everyone really) celebrates rain. If it wasn't Chanukah, I wouldn't have been surprised if the buses had said "Happy Rainy Day" on them. Rain is a cause for celebration. When talking about תפילה, everyone agrees that rain is something to be prayed for.

Experiencing this expression of unity was awesome- this is what it means to be an Israeli. Sadly on the flipside, there was a lot of putting into boxes. There was a lot of "they do that but we do this". One woman said how the דתיים had a whole prayer event at the Kotel to pray for rain (part of a day of fasting) as an example of our prayers finally being answered and another responded "well the fire came first, and then the rain, so how do we know whose prayers are being answered?". It sounded a bit cynical. Also the first woman phrased her comment as talking about the other- a totally separate group of people. Why does it matter who prayed where? Why can't she just say "a large group of people prayed at the Kotel"? I constantly got the sense that the people around me felt a need to specify what type of Jew/Israeli they were talking about. Is being general so taboo?

The Reform Movement in America promotes social justice over halakhah, being a light onto the nations as a nation of good deed and not as a nation performing religious commandments (at least the way I see it). I think this is a beautiful thing. While I feel strongly about how I practice Judaism, an adherence to religious obligation, and continuing ancient traditions, I believe that what it really comes down to is being a good person, respecting oneself, and caring for others. I feel that my religious practices help me be that person, but that there are many ways to get to that point and that open mindedness is crucial for maintaining the greater Jewish community. The Reform Movement in America has done an excellent job making תיקון עולם, social justice, a priority for all the different denominations. In Boston it brought all the different congregations together, and they were mentioned as exactly that- congregations. The emphasis was that different synagogue communities were working together, not that Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox Jews were finding something to agree on.

As I was getting at before, being progressive means different things in different societies. I still do not quite understand why the movement in Israel refers to itself both as Reform and as Progressive. The Reform Movement when founded was something very unique to Europe and America. It does not quite work the same way in Israel. I do understand why they would call themselves progressive, though how they are and will be progressive is very different from how the Reform Movement is progressive in America. Everyone has the right to choose how they want to be, but I think it is great that these "in between" Jews in Israel can be part of a community that serves their lifestyle and interests. I just hope that having an "in between", having something that isn't just דתי or just חילוני, will create a spectrum from one to the other, a spirit of open-mindedness, and not just another box to put people into. That would be progressive indeed.

הגיד לך אדם מה טוב ומה ה' דורש ממך כי אם עשות משפט ואהבת חסד והצנע ללכת עם אלוקיך. –מיכה ו:ח

(While looking for a place I could copy and paste this verse from I came across this. Like buses wishing me a Happy Chanukah, it's things like this that get me excited about living in Israel.)

The Roadblock

2010-12-08T20:35:00.002+02:00

In the introduction to her book History On Trial, Deborah Lipstadt describes an experience she had while studying abroad at the Hebrew University on Mount Scopus in the mid-sixties. One day she decided that she was determined to visit the Western Wall. Pre-1967, the Kotel (Western Wall), despite also being in Jerusalem and less than an hour's walk away, was in Jordan. Lipstadt came up with this crazy plan for her winter break to travel through Lebanon, England, Syria, and into Jordan (I forget the exact order) and make her way to the Kotel. Part of this plan involved "losing" her passport so that there would be no evidence when entering Jordan that she had been in Israel. Winter break was a good time to do this because there were certain times of the year (such as Christmas) that Mandelbaum Gate was open for Jordanian pilgrims to pass through into Israel, thereby providing Lipstadt with a way back to her dorm (Mandelbaum Gate is on what is now Route 1, about halfway between the Old City and Mount Scopus). From the Jordanian side of the gate she could easily see Mount Scopus and the nearby neighborhoods she would always take walks in. The Western Wall, such an important part of history and her Jewish heritage, was so close yet so far. She felt it was unfair to be kept from it (she then writes about coming back, just a few years later).

I think I wrote about this introduction in another blog post. I read it around the time I was beginning my degree at Hebrew University. Every time I travel there and back I pass by what was once Mandelbaum Gate. This critical checkpoint from just over forty years ago is now represented by a pillar surrounded by tracks for the future lightrail (I actually did see trains today but the seats were still covered in plastic wrap). I always think wow, this is incredible, I'm just gliding through on a bus- no passport or anything. Then from the rooftops of Hebrew University I get a stunning panoramic view of the city- a humbling experience indeed.

One doesn't have to read the news that often to figure out that the future of a united Jerusalem is a point of contention in the "peace process" (not putting it in quotes to be political... okay, maybe I am). Same goes for keeping the current borders of Israel (one vs. two state "solution"... oh there I go being political again- doesn't happen much, does it?). Checkpoints are still very much an everyday part of life in Israel. A few weeks ago I went to friends in the Gush for shabbat. It took just over a half hour to get there from my apartment in southern Jerusalem- I went up the street, got on a bus, rode it for less than ten minutes, crossed the street to the hitchhiking point/ bus stop, found someone driving to Neve Daniel, got in, and before I knew it I was there. The driver was originally from the US- not that I ever found out his name. I'm sure we know some of the same people. There is a checkpoint before the Gush but we barely had to stop. The driver glanced out the window, made eye contact with a soldier, and was waved through. No problem whatsoever. When you travel on a bus, a soldier will come on board and do a quick walk through but even that never takes so long. When my co-workers (native Israelis) found out where I went they were shocked- wasn't I scared? Isn't it dangerous? I thought they were being very silly. It's really amazing though. The Gush to them is an entirely foreign area. A few weeks later I went to the Gush again for Thanksgiving dinner. My friend invited his friends from the army. They were also in awe at being over the green line. To them this was a huge deal. It was like crawling into the wilderness. There is a lot I can say about my co-workers and their views on certain things, but that isn't the point of this post...

This year at Hebrew University I am in a class where the goal is to construct a project that will help other people. A couple weeks ago I missed a class at which a woman came to talk about a center she works at in East Jerusalem for children at risk. From my understanding these centers (which are all over Israel) are kind of like Israel's version of Head Start in the US. This was not my group's original plan, but my partners were impressed with the presentation and one of them (who is Arab) was asked directly by this woman to do her project there. The other two of us agreed, began researching what we could do to help based on what we knew about these centers in general, and today we were supposed to go visit and see for ourselves what we'd be dealing with.

The head of the center (the one who came to speak to the class) said she would come pick us up at school and drive us back. Because the center is in East Jerusalem, the Egged buses don't go there and it is not somewhere we would just walk over to, despite it being just a few minutes from the University. She picked us up as planned, we drove maybe two minutes, and then... road block. Our driver had started driving right through as she's used to when a soldier stopped us. Apparently this roadblock was only just set up because of recent events I am unclear about. She was perturbed. She said she was just driving to work. We said we were studies from the university out doing a project. Obviously this didn't matter to the soldiers.

You hear a lot about roadblocks in Israel on the news, so I must point out that these soldiers were perfectly cordial. They looked at all our IDs and told us that the driver and my Arab classmate were free to go in, but me and the other Israeli were not going to be let by so easily. It is not that we were forbidden to enter the area. The soldier informed us that if we did enter and something happened (I won't get into the examples he gives- they just aren't pleasant) the army would not be responsible for our safety. It would be a risk that we, as citizens of a democratic country and therefore allowed to make our own decisions, would choose to make. Discouraged, we turned around and drove back towards the school.

After discussing it amongst ourselves and our professor, we have decided not to continue with this project. While many Israeli professionals travel into the area every day, it is not something we can be sure we can do throughout the year. It is unfortunate that we can't, and the woman from the center will certainly be disappointed. I think she was the most put off by what happened. At the roadblock my Arab classmate nodded in quiet understanding while the other Israeli and I looked at each other, sitting together in the back seat, looked at each other wondering what to do. It is unfortunate that we are being kept from this experience and that the children at the center are being kept from the help and services we can provide. We were the perfect group for this project, each of us coming from a slightly different professional background that put together would have worked wonderfully.

When we got back to school, we just laughed about it. I'm glad we could. Here we were, two Arabs and two Israelis, laughing about the harsh realities of the country we live in. I joked that I would add it to the list of things not to tell my parents, though they will probably be relieved to find out I will not be doing a project in East Jerusalem. They are so supportive of me living in Israel that I try not to do anything to worry them, but this was an experience I really wanted to have. While there are so many parts of Israel I would never think of going (or am simply prohibited as an Israeli from going) because of safety concerns, I guess I never thought it could happen in a place next door to where thousands of Arabs and Jews study together every day. I want to believe that we could have gone through with this project and everything would have been fine- and maybe it would have. It just takes one person with a rock in his or her hand to turn everything upside down. It is my democratic right to choose to go where I please, but it is also my democratic right to choose to be safe. My co-workers' fears of the Gush are not unfounded, but I do wish they could speak about it more optimistically.

Our plan B (which was our original Plan A) is to work on programming for teenagers who are hard of hearing. My Israeli and Arab partners both have connections in their respective communities. We are hoping that we can provide both a service for deaf teenagers, and an opportunity for Arab and Israeli teens to communicate with each other. I am in this class because of my failed plan to write a thesis. I knew that doing a project instead wouldn't be a bad alternative, but I felt that I wanted to do something on my own and not have to deal with class and dealing with others. Each week I realize what a great experience this will be. My group is the only mixed Arab/Jewish group and the only one that is doing something with both communities. When I was first looking into schools I posted on a listserv asking about David Yellin, a teacher's college I considered going to. Someone wrote back telling me that I should be aware that there are Arabs there. I held back from responding, but I was thinking "Arabs wanted to study to be educators too? That sounds wonderful." It is such a positive experience being in a program of both Arabs and Jews. Great things can happen here.

לך לך Lech Lecha, etc.

2010-10-19T19:51:00.004+02:00

The first verse in לך לך was the first one I ever learned by heart. I was in second grade and had just started learning חומש. I always enjoyed studying תנ’ך (Bible). I like the combination of its religious and historical significance. It definitely influenced my decision to major in History and to move to Israel. I guess I could say that studying History helped my develop an awareness of the world around me, and תנ'ך made me feel like I had a place in a specific part of history and gave me direction for where I wanted to go in the future. I have thought about the beginning of לך לך, the beginning of Abraham's journey, countless times throughout the years leading up to my move to Israel and the years since. How could I not? I have no doubt that these first few words we are told God said to Abraham speak to anyone who has made the decision to move to Israel. And I wonder... was Abraham nervous? Sad? Did he look back? When I was in second grade this was a simple Bible story. It was nice to read about- a good story to start off my Jewish education. I recently made a comment that maybe this is where the brainwashing started, but that blame remains on Bnei Akiva, etc (see previous blog posts- there are plenty about that). I'm trying to think when it went from being just a thing I learned in school to something I constantly thought about- something that drove me to make the biggest decision of my life until now.

So that's that. Just a thought. In other news, life picked up where it left off except this time around I seem to be sick less often, less stressed out, less overtired, and overall just better off. I'm at gan five days a week instead of six. I finished my huge assignment from last year lifting a huge weight off my shoulders and making me feel pretty darn proud of myself. It was a challenging year and I did it- woohoo. Long story short- I'm not writing a thesis in the end. While this was something I really want to do, it probably wasn't a good idea and it's another weight off my shoulders. Unfortunately the alternative is a class that used to be on Thursdays (my free day) but is on Wednesday. How does one take a class at 12:30pm on a day they're supposed to be at gan from 9-4? Excellent question. Thanks to my amazing and supportive boss, I am not too worried about it. The class is only going to meet a few times during the year and the co-teacher with Wednesday off is going to switch with me when she can. This gets me my morning hours back so I only lose the afternoon. This week she couldn't switch but I got to spend the morning in a different gan (their kids are so much better at clean-up) and got some hours back that way. Hopefully in the end it will all work out and I will still merit real vacation days for a cool trip somewhere (Greece, anybody?). The class is with a professor I've had before and many classmates I've been with before so I actually don't feel terrified every time I walk into the room. The professor asked me which class I had with her. I of course had no idea what it was called as I referred to it in my head as "the class with the teacher with bright white hair". I'm not sure that was the answer she was looking for. The best thing about not writing a thesis is that I will be 100% done with my degree by the beginning of next summer. That is pretty darn exciting.

In other news, Gila finally decided to get her butt back from America. This means that we can actually start planning our very own גן (daycare) to open for next Fall. If anyone knows about real estate, small businesses, contracts between business partners, licensing, insurance, and any of that technical stuff please let me know. We are also collecting information about places in the area- where they are, how much tuition is, how many kids, how many teachers, etc. Any and all advice and information is greatly appreciated as we embark on this crazy and challenging project. This is something we've been talking about doing for a really long time and I am so excited about turning this dream into a reality.

A blog post would not be complete without mentioning how adorable my niece is. We continue to have our Tuesday playdates after gan. Sometimes she even picks me up. My wonderful niece Rinat Hodaya will be turning 1 in just over a week and I am excited that my parents are coming in next week for the festivities. It also happens that Hodaya's English birthday and my Hebrew birthday overlap so we'll have double the parties. Joint fingerpaint party anybody? It has been amazing watching her grow over the past year. She just started walking and is so much fun to watch. This picture captures a rare moment- Hodaya actually sitting still.

So that's what's going on. I've been living in Israel for over three years now and time is flying. So much changes and so much changes the same (maybe the topic of another blog entry but I've been managing to stay away from rants). Lets just say my three year olds at gan aren't the only ones learning new things and having new experiences every day about the harsh (and okay, also not so harsh) realities of the big world around us.

Until next time...

can't stay still

2010-08-29T18:01:00.015+03:00

Today I went back to work. Kids aren't back yet but the staff was back learning CPR (may we never need it- my co-workers decided I'm the go to resuscitater) and getting the classrooms ready. I cleaned the fishtank and when I put the fish back they looked like they were starting to die. Better luck with the kids, I guess. My boss asked me if I had a chance to rest over vacation. Rest? What rest? How can I rest when...

I finished my last day of work at 4 on Thursday August 5th. That night I went to the Jerusalem Wine Festival. All I can say is members of this community need events like this more often. I think the tipsiness did a lot of us a lot of good. I got home after midnight, and felt so nice and lightheaded as I stayed up for my 3am sheirut ride to the airport. Thanks to a sobered up Jay and friend for helping me load my bags when the sheirut came (they just happened to be walking down the street... at 3am). After a McDonalds chicken sandwich breakfast (it was as gross as it sounds) my flight took off at 6am. I got to Boston around 4pm and waiting around until Chava's flight from DC arrived. We got home in time to get ready for shabbat, and then Sunday night I was packing again- this time for the long awaited sibling bonding trip to Maine.

On Sunday morning I was up bright and early to catch an 8:50am train to Portland, ME. Who said anything about relaxing on Sunday in America? When we got to Portland we watched the Portland Seadogs get their tails smacked around by the Richmond Flying Squirrels. It wasn't pretty. The little kid next to us was quite vocal about his frustration. It was kinda adorable. Chava and I wearing matching Portland Seadogs hats was also probably kinda adorable.

After the game we went down to Casco Bay and took a sunset ride on a schooner. It was really neat and we got to help hoist the sail!

The next day we were up bright and early to drive the three or so hours to Bar Harbor, ME. I survived my first real experience with highway driving. Go me. Chava and I spent two days hiking in Acadia National Park. The mountains were high and the views were stunning. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

The best part is, Chava and I had a great time and didn't kill each other. Go sister bonding! On Wednesday morning we drove south along the coastal route which had even more stunning views. We drove down Main Street in at least five different small towns on the way and stopped (on Main Street) in Belfast for a late breakfast. We got back to Portland in time to eat lunch at the Green Elephant, a really yummy vegan place, and then I caught a train back to Boston.

On Thursday my mom took the day off so we could spend some quality time together. We had lunch at Milk Street Cafe and went on the swan boats together. What a perfect day in beautiful Boston.

On Friday I went to Target. Nuff said. Saturday night I had the very special treat of going to JP Licks with Mimmer and Isaac who was in from Brooklyn. While many members of our old gang were missing, this might have been the highlight of my trip. There is nothing like hanging out with childhood friends. It was just like old times.

On Sunday I was up bright and early again- this time even earlier than the Sunday before. I caught an 8am bus to NYC, met up with Janice in the bus station for a luggage hand-off, then hopped on a bus to Teaneck to see my wonderful and adorable and brilliant little cousins Aharon (11), Adina (9), Eitan (7), Tani (10), Shimmy (7 1/2), Lila (5) and Akiva (3) (those kids are from two families, FYI). Since they all adore me, it was a really fun twenty four hours with them. It's fun when Aharon comes up with ploys to keep me in the country. He's a smart kid.

On Monday morning I played with Lila and Akiva a bit more, had lunch with my friend Heather, and then took the train to Metuchen to see my aunt and uncle and one of my cousins and his new wife. I hadn't seen them since before I made aliyah. I haven't seen my other two first cousins in I don't even know how long. Maybe I can fit them into my next trip. Three hours later I took the train back in the direction I came from to NYC. Penn Station at rush hour was horribly frightening, but I somehow made it onto the subway going in the right direction to Queens for my friend Dan's wedding. And wow, what a wedding. Bucharians are CRAZY and certainly know how to party. I take back anything I said about chuppahs already being boring. Can you say chuppah-dance party extravaganza? It was so great seeing friends from Maryland and getting to celebrate Dan and Dina's special day. And thank you Dan for the meaningful brachah. I'm so glad I could work this momentous Jewbox simcha into my busy travel schedule.

(picture credits: Shira Stern)

I spent Monday night in Kew Garden Hills. Thank you Rebecca #3 for the wonderful hospitality. In the morning I road a bus full of Jews to the subway, then took a subway full of Jews into the city to hang out with the one and only Ezra Butler. We were soon joined by my friend Brian. I'm glad Ezra's blindness went away before our time together was through. Maybe I'm a healer? Who knows? Thank you Brian for carrying my bag around NYC. Ezra- you are a wimp, but I love you anyway, and will miss you terribly. Brian made me miss my bus to Philadelphia but made up for it by buying me ice cream. Fair enough. I wound up taking the NJ Transit for the third time in 36 hours to get to Philadelphia.

I overjoyed to see my Grandma Elka in Philadelphia. This was nothing short of a miracle. Just a couple months ago she dehydrated, became completely incoherent, and I was told she wouldn't make it until the end of the week. The weeks after that were extremely difficult. We held our breaths as she improved and hoped she would make it to meet her greatgranddaughter who arrived from Israel a few weeks later. ברוך ה' יום יום She met her great granddaughter and it was love at first site. Hodaya's pictures are all over my grandmother's room and she is constantly the topic of conversation. I am convinced that the picture of her hanging above Grandma Elka's bed is what gets her through the day. While my grandma is in poor health, she has finally accepted almost around the clock care and in my opinion is in better shape than ever. I am grateful to the nurses and health aides who put up with her and take care of her and was blessed with another visit full of scandalous family tales. I look forward to the next one. I also had a surprise run-in with my friend Tzippy who called me from down the street. I only got to see her for ten minutes but hey, that's about as much as anyone else got of my time.

I arrived back in Boston on Thursday evening. On Friday I had another highlight of my trip- the much anticipated JP Licks- Taam China doubleheader with Gila and Rafi. Lisa joined us for part of it (I mean, why shouldn't I hang out in Boston with friends who also live in Israel?). The ice cream and Chinese food was all delicious and my stomach amazingly didn't get terribly angry at me.

On Sunday I was stuck at home because of the rain. On Monday, despite the rain, I went to Brookline to play with more little cousins. Aharon, Adina, and Eitan were visiting their grandparents and were joined by Devorah and Yonatan. They are all so cute and so funny!

Monday afternoon meant the end of my trip. I got in a cab and we went through the cold and rain to the airport. I had a seven hour layover in Paris so Spotty and I did some exploring. We're going to cover Paris one layover at a time, or maybe one time I will actually go on a real trip there. This time we went to the Jardin de Luxembourg and then crossed the Seine to see the Notre Dame Cathedral. Fun stuff.

I got back to Israel Tuesday night. My bags got back Wednesday night. I survived my first shabbat back in Katamon and now my first day back at work. Real life resumes. Maybe I'll even start working on my thesis. I can't believe I have lived in Israel for three years and that this was my sixth trip back to the US since I made aliyah. Every trip back is a different kind of experience, as is every time I return home to Israel. There's a reason I can't stay still. I still have a life in the US to keep up- friends and family to see and new places to explore. I am happy to see any friend who will make time for me and grateful to the ones who do. I'm glad Chava and I finally got to take a trip together even if it wasn't to Iceland or a roadtrip through the Pacific Northwest (maybe next time). It was great riding the swan boats with my mom even though I've been on them a zillion times before. Now that I'm back I'm extremely anxious about getting schoolwork done in a reasonable amount of time but I"m also exciting about starting shana bet of gan with the little ones when they return on Wednesday.

Life in Israel Year 4: here we go. Who knows what adventures await me.

על אלה אני בוכיה

2010-07-20T12:23:00.003+03:00

When I was younger I spent four summers at Camp Moshava. When people ask me why I made aliyah, I tell them it is all Bnei Akiva's fault. There is much to say about my experiences at Moshava. It's hard to say I had a blast. I learned what it meant to be a Jewish kid from Boston in a sea of New Yorkers. For whatever reason I kept going back, and the brainwashing continued. The staff at Moshava took a two-pronged attack. The word "aliyah" was said on average every ten minutes. There was lots of flag waving, and we were constantly told that moving to Israel was the best thing ever. We dressed up like pioneers arriving in Israel for the first time and nearly every shiur was about the holiness of the land. On the flip side, Tisha B'Av was an incredibly intense day. At camp they were really into setting things on fire. Thinking back, watching an outline of the walls of Jerusalem seems almost tacky, but it was a powerful image for an eleven year old to see. At camp we did everything from the egg dipped in ashes the evening before to sitting on the floor for most of Tisha B'Av day. There were depressing movies to watch, stories about the Holocaust told, and everything was done to make us feel the sadness of the day. I was at Moshava for Tisha B'Av for ages 10-13. When I was 14 I was on an NCSY program in Israel and we read Eicha on Mount Scopus overlooking the Temple Mount. The next year I was in Newton, and it was almost a culture shock. My family does not have the tradition of an egg dipped in ashes and while there was Tisha B'Av programming out there, it hardly compared to what I had experienced the five previous summers.

Tisha B'Av 2007 was very strange for me. It was just a few weeks before I made aliyah. While I attempted to feel sad about the lack of a Beit HaMikdash and what we no longer have as Jewish people, I couldn't help feeling the excitement of moving to Israel and of the miracle that Israel exists once again as a Jewish homeland. Once the nine days and Tisha B'Av were over, I could finally make the final arrangements and purchases for my aliyah. I still think about that summer and the brainwashing (debated putting that in quotes, but lets be honest) that took place those four summers at Moshava. After nearly three years living in Israel, I am no doubt still thrilled to be here. I am living the dream and being part of the miracle that is modern day Israel. At the same time, I miss the blissful Zionism instilled in me as a young teenager. When in takes me several tries to convince Bituach Leumi that I do not owe them hundreds of shekels, it's hard to get excited about being here. Tisha B'Av poses another challenge. While there is plenty to mourn in Jewish History and the current state of things for the Jewish people and Israel, at the same time I find much to celebrate every day when I look around and see how far we have come.

כל המתאבל על ירושלים זוכה ורואה בשמחתה
"Everyone who mourns for Jerusalem merits and sees her in her happiness"

This morning I read about this idea in Yitchak Mirsky's book הגיוני הלכה (a present from my brother upon graduating high school a heading off for a year at HaRova, where the brainwashing continued and aliyah became a true part of my life plan). The question is raised, why is it in the present tense? Shouldn't it be that one who mourns Jerusalem will in the future merit and see her in her happiness? A comparison is made to Yosef's brothers attempting to comfort Yaakov when Yaakov thought Yosef was dead. Yaakov could not be comforted, and over time he realized that the reason he could not be comforted was that he knew Yosef was still alive and that they would one day be reunited. There is a similar idea with the pasuk about Rachel Imeinu crying for her children until they come home to their land. She is crying in the present because she knows her children are still alive and that they can one day come back.

When we mourn for the Beit HaMikdash and what once was, it is not like mourning for a person. There is no set timeline for mourning after which we move on and enjoy the memories but no longer feel sad. By actively mourning for Jerusalem, we remain aware that it can be rebuilt, and we see the opportunities for bringing things back to how they once were. That is why one who mourns "merits and sees" in the present and not future tense. We are like Yaakov mourning for Yosef. We know we can be reunited with the שכינה in Jerusalem and in our lives in general.

On Sunday night before Tisha B'Av I went to two shiurim by Rav Alex Israel and Rav Binny Lau in preparation for Tisha B'Av and in memory of Marc Weinberg z"l, a close friend and former neighbor of my friends in Modiin. Rav Alex talked about the different portrayals of God in Eicha and how the authors relates to Him. It is different in each chapter. In one Yirmiyahu is yelling at God for the misery He has caused, and another is more about bemoaning the actions of the Jewish people that brought upon the destruction the punishment described. Rav Lau made an interesting point about the Tisha B'Av experience. On Tisha B'Av we force ourselves to miss. We do it because it's what we're supposed to do, and while the feelings may truly be within us, they are not felt naturally. He explained further that when it really comes down to it, we're not just missing what we once had. What we're missing and feeling bad about is our actions- how we behaved and the opportunities that were lost.

While I am not sure if this was Rav Lau's intention, it gave me a new perspective on Tisha B'Av. I think fasting, sitting on the floor, and the other restrictions we place upon ourselves on Tisha B'Av are important, but I think there is a more active role we can play in experiencing the essence of the day. We can mourn for what we lost and pray for it all to come back, but we need to take more active roles in realizing our own potentials in this process. As much as I celebrate the accomplishments of Israel, I am very much aware of the problems here. I know that last night in a few places there were panel discussions intended to create a dialogue between secular and religious Jews. This is definitely a good step. I have been thinking about what I wrote on the essay I submitted to Nefesh B'Nefesh when I applied for aliyah. I wrote that one reason I wanted to make aliyah was I felt I had much contribute and that it would be more meaningful for me to make this contributions to society in Israel.

On Yom Haatzmaut as my roommate and I partied in town into the wee hours of the night, I told her that I was grateful for Yom Haatzmaut because it brought me back to the excited-brainwashed-Zionistic teenager I was as a camper at Moshava. On our way to town we were stuck behind this huge group of teenagers that kept spontaneously bursting song, often getting random passersby to join in. It was exactly what a needed -- a reminder of how I turned the brainwashing into a personal dream and now a reality. This new take on Tisha B'Av is helping me put the other half of things into perspective. One one hand I am never about to downplay the tragedy that was the destruction of Jerusalem, pogroms, the Holocaust, and the countless random acts of cruelty done to Jews around the world on an almost daily basis. On the other hand I know that if I'm going to miss what once was, I have to force myself to do so. I can stare out my window towards the Old City walls (which I can barely see from my room) and wonder about what it was like, but missing it takes something extra.

The type of mourning we demand of ourselves on Tisha B'Av is very unique, but I definitely understand why the phrase above is in the present tense. If we can appropriately mourn for Jerusalem, it means we can become aware of what it will take to, at this moment, appreciate the merit of seeing it in her happiness-- the happiness of 1948, 1967, the continued flourishing of our homeland.

Being Brave

2010-06-24T19:49:00.002+03:00

Today at gan we celebrated the birthday of Avigail. Back in January when the kids started having birthdays, I really wondered how Avigail would fare when her time came. She had six months to go, but at the time she almost always played on her own, barely said a word to anyone, and never approached the teachers for help if she was upset about something. The kids picked up on her vulnerability and made a game of sneaking up on her and roaring like lions. It was an important lesson for the kids to learn that it's not right to do something they know will make a friend upset. It was also ultimately good for Avigail. She had to learn to stick up for herself. The other thing that set Avigail apart from the other kids was that she couldn't jump. In general her fine and gross motor skills were well behind the other kids, but jumping is a big thing for little kids. It is also something each birthday boy and girl is called upon to do as part of their party in gan. Every Wednesday morning there is an exercise class with "Ariel HaGadol" (Big Ariel) as the kids call him (there is an Ariel in our class, as well as a Tamar, so Tamar the music teacher is "Tamar HaGedolah"). The class is wildly entertaining to watch. Ariel has the kids crawling like dogs, slithering like snacks, walking like monkeys and giraffes, and of course jumping like kangaroos. The kids go from one side of the room to the other. Avigail would be maybe one fifth there by the time the kids reached the other side, but Ariel was very patient and Avigail was extraordinarily determined. As for jumps, she did the movements but never quite got her feet off the ground.

The point of this story is... Avigail's determination always amazed me. She seemed totally oblivious to the comments and progress of the other kids. All she cared about was getting her feet off the ground. Then one day she did. For maybe a week she couldn't stop jumping. She was constantly hopping around the room and outside as if to keep reassuring herself that she could in fact do it. She's still really quiet. Her presence in gan is barely noticed. But when I do pay attention, I notice how much better she holds a paintbrush, how she quietly joins in the games of other kids, how she'll spend ten minutes getting two pieces of Lego together, and how she'll stand up for herself when another kid tries to grab a toy away from her.

I have mixed feelings about birthday parties at gan. Some kids just don't want to be in the center of attention. Even the most outgoing kids freak out and hide behind their parents when asked to get up and jump in the middle of the room. Then there was the kid who handled the pressure by climbing on tables. Today Avigail shined. We were all blown away. She sat confidently on the birthday chair in front of everyone, fully participated, and of course her jumps were spectacular. My mom likes to quote my grandfather, "be careful of those quiet ones." It's fun to think about what the kids are like now and what they will be like when they're older. Who will be the doctors and lawyers and who will work their way up in the Knesset. Whatever Avigail does I feel like she will do it slowly and quietly, but one day shock us all.

What's the moral of the story? Yes, Katamon is just like gan. Maybe I'll get to that part a little later. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I was brave to move to Israel, I might be able to afford my rent. I guess they have a point. Moving so far away from everything and everyone was a big leap of faith and no small thing. But whatever, that part is done. When I think about being brave I think about how I finally called families and spoke to them in Hebrew about participating in my class' research project. I was reading off a script but it was absolutely terrifying. I was expected to get up to twenty families and I got five. Even that was exhausting. I'm lucky to have a professor who is an olah herself and was extremely encouraging even with my relatively minor success recruiting families. Another brave moment of the past few weeks was standing up to my coworkers. The fight is on for the most desirable hours for next year. I might be at the bottom of the pecking order, but that wasn't going to stop me from at least telling my boss what my requests were. My coworkers basically acted like babies but I stood up to them. Maybe I stood up to them in my far less than perfect Hebrew, but I did it. I let them ramble about so many things they think I should do differently but when it comes to how my time is going to be used, I wasn't going to let them get away with them anymore. I even told my boss on them :-)

I still have way too much to figure out and challenges to suck up and be brave about. Oh yeah, why Katamon is like gan (besides the obvious reasons)... well, lets just say I have now realized that when you finally manage to be comfortable in your own shoes and just be yourself being bold and brave comes naturally. No more faking it, no more games. Honesty is a pretty cool thing. Being honest with myself was a big one. Yeah, it's corny, I know. Deal with it.

I continue to learn so much from the kids at gan in the smallest ways. I look at them now and realize that woah, they have come such a long way, some of them in the least expected but most incredible ways, like Avigail. I have come a long way too, whether it was in baby steps, monkey steps, or giant kangaroo leaps.

What I've been learning in gan

2010-04-26T17:36:00.008+03:00

I've decided that there's no better way to be absorbed into Israeli society than to spend a year in gan (preschool). In the past seven months my Hebrew vocabulary and fluency has improved like I never thought it could. I sit side by side with the kids learning new words and new songs. With most songs now I do not simply fake the hand motions. I also know the words. It's cute because the kids sense that I'm not as "on top of things" as the other teachers, but they seem to appreciate that about me. Gan also provides me with a fascinating sociological study of Israeli life. The kids are constantly hitting each other, grabbing toys, and in general are always worried about what they're playing with. It often takes two minutes to convince a child that they can safely go to the bathroom and that I will make sure no one swipes the blocks they were building with. A lot of it has to do with there being so many children in one room, but I'm sure some of it comes from a general tension in the air that they see in their parents and feel themselves.

At the same time they are happy, wonderful, growing, and learning every day. When they aren't hitting each other they are simply wonderful and I love spending my days with them. I learn to appreciate the little things in life like the tractor working on the road outside the gan and the way a half-pita looks like a boat. Most of all I have enjoyed learning about the holidays with them and hearing them sing songs, especially the children of olim like myself. Their parents, while struggling to keep up with their children's growing vocabulary, positively glow when they hear their children singing new songs in Hebrew. One boy came to Israel just two weeks before gan started and didn't speak a word of Hebrew. He loves singing, but usually sang whatever English song sounded like the Hebrew one being sung at the time (Itsy Bitsy Spider came up a lot). Now he sings along and easily converses with his friends. Of course he still bursts into long winded stories in English and wonders why everyone gives him weird looks.

I wrote about Purim before and how fun it was to celebrate in gan. Last week we celebrated Yom Haatzmaut, Israel Independence Day. What better way to celebrate than with the next generation of Israelis. They were so cute dressed in blue and white, waving flags, and singing songs about being at home in Israel. One day they will understand the significance of the day and how miraculous it is that they live here. Listening them sing "כחול ולבן, הצבע שלי" ("blue and white are my color") literally brought tears to my eyes. Just as miraculous was spending Yom Haatzmaut with my niece, the first sabra Zibman. One day we'll tell her how her great great grandfather once met with Chaim Weizmann and Rav Abraham Kook in Chicago to discuss the prospect of a sovereign Jewish state.

In other news, I had another great trip back to the US. It was tough fitting it all into two weeks but somehow I did it. First three days were spent in Philadelphia, next three days in Boston, four days in Maryland, and then another week in Boston. I was constantly on the go as always, visiting with friends and family. I am grateful for the friends who accommodated my often restrictive schedule to drive me places, feed me, and simply hang out. You guys tell me how great it is that I travel so much to see friends, but I can't imagine not doing so. Here's to many more wonderful times together.

Also while I was in the US my Grandma Rose got the most wonderful surprise. A former student of hers who lives in the area and had recently reconnected with my family surprised her with a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear from Winston's. He was her student in third grade which was at least forty years ago. It made her day- no, her month- and she is still talking about it. She's also still talking about how magical digital cameras are. I took her picture with the flowers and showed her how I transferred the picture to my computer. I explained this to her about six years ago when she bought me my first digital camera, but you know how forgetful 98 year olds can be.

For the three weeks before I went to the US I was battling pneumonia. I finally got it properly diagnosed a few days before I left (shoutout to my Terem buddy). Thankfully I started feeling significantly better a few days into my trip. When I got back it was wonderful feeling healthy again, and being healthy meant I get to actually play with my niece, who came over with her abba just a few minutes after I home from the airport. Doesn't she look great in her new Red Sox hat?

Because I was sick, I fell behind in my schoolwork right after I finally caught up. Besides that my motivation to get work done this year has been almost non-existent. Despite that, I just submitted my proposal for my thesis. Hopefully my desired adviser will like what I wrote, officially accept me, and that my topic will be approved by the head of my department. I am so excited to finally be making progress with this thing even though I know there's a long, long, long road ahead of me. I am starting to feel a little more in control of my time as there is much work to do but more flexible deadlines in place. Trying to work on feeling more confident and motivated! And trying to have more fun. This morning before work I sat at a cafe reading the newspaper and drinking an icecafe (think Frappaccino). It was absolutely wonderful. Gotta do that more often. I've also been to three parties in the past week and looking forward to throwing another one in my apartment in a couple weeks. Maybe I'm finally enjoying being social around here.

In short, I'm happy at my job, making progress in school, continuing to make friends here, and I absolutely adore my niece.

But can you really blame me?

checking in on a sick day

2010-03-04T16:52:00.004+02:00

My lack of posting might make one think that nothing in the past few months has been as exciting as the birth of my niece. Well, that's pretty much true. Hodaya is now four months old, unbelievably cute, and a joy to have around. I love how alert she is when I read her books and how adorable she looks in her Red Sox clothes that finally fit.

But besides having the cutest niece in the world, plenty of else has been going on. I just had a brilliant five week streak of not being sick. That streak ended two days ago, which is how I have the time to sit down and write a blog post. Working in a gan has essentially destroyed my immune system. At the end of January I took a much anticipated trip to Eilat with Lisa and Alan which combined with drugs brought me back to 100%. This time around we went down on a Friday and stayed through Tuesday. For shabbat we stayed in a studio apartment in one of the residential neighborhoods of Eilat. It was cool being around the real people who live there. It's such a gorgeous area. Our apartment had a view of the Red Sea and we basically spent 25 hours eating and sleeping. None of us had a non-cellphone clock, so we had absolutely no idea what time it was all day. We are convinced it was 4pm for at least three hours. Our trip included ATV-ing (a skill that for me could really use some more practice), eating steak, and being pulled through the water crazy fast on this big round blow-up thing. Most of all I enjoyed being away from the kids and having time to put my feet up.

Work at the gan is going great. Since my last post we've celebrated Chanukah and Purim in gan. Gan makes holidays so much more exciting. Purim was like a week long celebration which started with us turning the dramatic play area into a beautiful castle. The Erev Purim celebration was particularly good because no parents were there and the kids could just enjoy themselves without forty strange adults in the room. The kids are still insanely obsessed with me. When I come into the gan they barge at me with hugs and shouts. When I come before lunch time they are often in the middle of a story and I create a huge disturbance. It's awesome. I am starting to feel less of an assistant to the assistants as I get a better sense of what to do throughout the day and am given more responsibilities. For example, I am now in charge of making challah on Fridays. Pretty neat.

At the beginning of January I finally handed in my last paper for last semester (Spring 2009)... only ten weeks late, without consulting the professor for an extension. Thankfully he gave me a 91. I also finally retook the test I failed last Spring and got a 76 so I am now officially eligible to write a thesis. Now I just have to actually meet my thesis adviser in person, come up with a topic, and get started. In the meantime I am trying to finish off first semester which this virus is sort of impeding on.

Purim in Jerusalem was fabulous as always. I dressed up at Max from Where the Wild Things Are. A fair amount of my friends recognized my costume immediately. It was fun walking around in a crown all day. My shadow looked really neat. I went to three seudahs and delivered mishloach manot all over the area. It's always a good excuse to visit people I don't see often.

I'm looking forward to my next trip to the US which is in three weeks. Sadly it's going to be a short one, but I'm looking forward to seeing everyone... and to being away from the germy little ones for two weeks. This year is flying by. I can't believe I have known those 22 kids for six months now. Some of them have come a long way, and some of them cry even more than they used to. Being two and a half is tough.

I feel like there are a zillion other stories I wanted to share over the past few months but made myself wait until my schoolwork is done. Well, it's more or less done. Now maybe I'll remember the stories. I have a goal to be caught up on life my Pesach. We'll see how that goes.

Pictures speak louder than words

2009-11-08T21:17:00.003+02:00

Presenting my niece, Rinat Hodaya, born November 1st. Rinat Hodaya means "A Joyous Expression of Thanksgiving." I kinda want to call her JET for short. Or I'll just call her Hodaya.

Monday November 2

Wednesday November 4

I wish Hodaya a long, happy and healthy life, full of Torah, mitzvot, wonderful friends, and crazy adventures.

It's October, and quite a lot has happened.

2009-10-24T21:30:00.004+02:00

Okay, here it goes. I was trying to force myself to not write another blog post until I completed all my school work, but with a niece or nephew due to arrive this week and a paper and test (who knew mo'ed daled even existed?) I decided I can't get too behind.

So this is what's been happening. I arrived back in Israel on August 18th. The next day my best childhood friend Gila got married. Gila and I met in first grade because her family lived near my grandparents, and my grandma and her mother taught together at Hebrew School. We were set up on a playdate. By second grade we were chasing her brother and his friends on the playground. She was also responsible for the one day I didn't get a sticker for davenning, even though she denies it to no end. In any case, we've been friends since then, both live in Israel, and it was really special attending her wedding and celebrating with her parents and siblings.

That was on a Wednesday. On Monday I finally met with the director of the gan (preschool) I was waiting to hear from all summer and the teacher they wanted to put me with. The meeting was nothing short of intimidating. Know how you can speak Hebrew fluently in your head and it comes out as a lame stutter? I was freaking out, realizing that I was finally going to get an answer. I went home and decided to turn my phone off and take a nap. When I looked at my phone I realized it was still on silent from the interview and that I had a message from the director. I got the job, and I started the next day.

The second day we finally sat down to discuss my hours. Now, originally I responded to an ad for a fulltime job and said I could only work part time. We discussed something like 25 hours. Somehow I wound up with 32 spread over 6 days a week. Obviously I wasn't about to turn down the job. I have now been working there for nearly 2 months. I am in a room of twenty two 2 1/2 year olds with a staff of four teachers, three of which are there at any given time (and just two in the afternoon). The first week I was falling over from exhaustion and was in bed by 9 every night. Now I can handle a bit more-- I am usually in bed by 10. And this week I started my two mornings a week of classes. I still have one more paper to write, a test to retake (got permission for a test retake date like four months after the original one... only in Israel) and a thesis adviser I supposedly have a week to find. Needless to say all my work got put on hold the second the job started and it's a miracle I got any papers at all done. All a bit daunting.

So this is what the real world is like. The idea of working six days and resting on the seventh never rang so true in my mind. I arrive at shabbat, after a 7:30-12:45 Friday workday, and I am more ready than ever to rest. I am not about to complain though. I am working in a terrific gan with a great staff. The kids are even good too. I quickly learned that while it might seem difficult to work in Hebrew, at a gan you just have to learn how to say simple things like "don't hit" "clean up those toys" and "pull up your pants." There are two boys who hit just about everyone and plenty of kids who just don't care to put the effort into pulling up their pants. Two year olds are so complicated sometimes.

There's one boy whose family made aliyah two weeks before gan started. At first he didn't speak a word of Hebrew but has picked up how to say "more" (food) and "stop" (shoving me every time I try to be friends with you). Another kid is positively obsessed with me. He has finally started having an emotional breakdown whenever I leave the room for a moment, but when I return he greets me like he hasn't seen me in weeks. I sometimes see him outside of gan and he gets all shy, but apparently he talks about me at home too. One day he picked me flowers on his way to gan, but I never saw them. He tends to sit on the carpet in the morning pulling petals off flowers in dramatic "She loves me, she loves me not"-esque fashion. I have never worked with a group of little kids for more than a couple of months so it will be amazing to watch them grow over the next year. Maybe they'll even learn how to pull up their pants.

It was a nice chaggim season. Lots of meals with friends and families from different parts of my life. On Succot I finally had some time off, which I spent attempting to studiously write my papers. I was somewhat successful. It's daunting that I won't really have free time til who knows when. This past week I threw out my back and had to skip work and miss my first day of school, and I felt kinda pathetic feeling glad to stay home. I missed enjoying the fun and excitement of chol hamoed Succot. I hope that next year when things are under control again I'll make up for it.

It's been a month of happy occasions. Last week my brother's roommate (from college, but still considered a roommate) got engaged. When Sam got engaged here in Israel this friend and one of my friends surprised my parents with flowers, wine, and dancing at their house in Newton. Zack's parents are in Israel for the semester so it was obvious what Sam and I had to do. Last Saturday night we showed up at their door with a big sign and a bottle of wine. Once they figured out who we were, we had a wonderful time celebrating with them. Mazal tov Zackaroo!

Now for the final exciting event of the past couple months. This past Sunday Alissa (my former roommate) and Yoel (former neighbor) got married. The wedding was lots of fun. It was really cool celebrating with some of the first friends I made in Israel. There was creative and hilarious shtick from beginning to end. They looked so happy! We will miss having Harriet the Spy in Jerusalem. Lisa and I look forward to visiting her (okay, Yoel and Alissa too) in Efrat. Lisa, Elie and I had a toast at the wedding to marrying off our roommates and hosted sheva brachot for them later in the week. This past shabbat we had one last celebratory meal in their honor. Mazal tov to the happy couple, and to all the friends who helped them along the way.

What's up next? Well, my sister-in-law is due to give birth on Thursday. This is possibly the most exciting thing to happen ever, or at least thus far. Needless to say I am soooo excited. I have a special Spotty dog ready and a pile of Red Sox paraphernalia. This week I'll be keeping my cellphone with me at all times in anticipation of the good news. This also means my parents are coming to Israel really soon. It's going to be an amazing month, and an amazing new stage for my family. Couldn't think of a better early birthday present.

One last thing- I have eighteen chapters left of Nach. Any ideas of a project to tackle next?

5 cities, 4 ballparks, and whole lot of wonderful people to visit

2009-08-14T02:29:00.014+03:00

First of all, this is an article I just read in the Boston Globe. It is about Irish immigrants to Boston who may have been born to Irish immigrants in Boston several decades ago, but then felt drawn back to Ireland especially after having children in the US. Due to the recession, many are coming back to the US. Some are also coming back because they feel that Ireland has changed and that they feel more comfortable in Boston. However they still feel very much attached to both countries and feel both are their home in different ways. I think it's something a lot of us can relate to.

I am wrapping up yet another four week tour of the US. I scheduled this trip in the summer instead of September (sticking to my "more or less every 6 months" schedule) because at the beginning of June I had an interview and was told that I would find out about the job by the end of June. I decided to be optimistic and come to the US in the summer because in September I might be working. Well, I finally got an extremely vague email today that they have an answer for me. I just have to get through to the director tomorrow. Still holding my breath. Coming here when I did was insanely hectic. I moved to a new apartment two weeks before I left. I had just taken three finals and was trying to get my life back in order. Sadly I only got one paper done here in the US (it's going to be an exciting few weeks when I get back!) and have to retake two tests in September, one of which I was positive I did really well on. But anyway, it was a hard time to leave. I finally had time to catch my breath, settle down in my apartment, get to know my roommate, and have a little fun and suddenly I'm traveling across the Atlantic for another whirlwind US trip.

But I can't complain. It's easy to forget the hectic life I left behind and all the things I have to do in Israel when I'm traveling through five cities and arranging back-to-back get-togethers with countless relatives and friends from so many different periods of my life. I started my trip in Washington DC with a traditional Friday adventure with Shira and Dan. We went on a tour of the Dumbarton House, which is a lovely place to see furniture that postdated the house and light fixtures more elegant than would have been found in a household of that class. I spent shabbat in my sister's apartment and for lunch had a great time eating with a whole bunch of friends from college (thank you Channah and David for hosting, and Shira for coordinating). Sunday morning I woke up early to take the red line across town to Kemp Mill where my friends Sarah and Jason hosted a breakfast with more friends in my honor. After breakfast I hopped next door to get a ride from Rachel to Camden Yards. Rachel and I barely know each other, but since we're both crazy Red Sox fans we're practically best friends. At Camden Yards I sat with Rachel in her family's season ticket seats, 12 rows up from the visitors dugout. At the end of the game we relocated to sit with our friends (two people I went to high school and college with) 2 rows up from the home dugout for an even more amazing view, and it was great seeing more friends. And we were on the jumbotron and spotted by friends in Connecticut and by another friend on the ESPN highlights the next day.

From the ballgame, which was nearly 5 hours long, I went straight to the airport. On the way I befriended a couple from New Hampshire that had flown in for the weekend to see the game. The wife is a social worker and we discussed different aspects of the field. The airport was full of other Sox fans who had also come in for the series. Southwest Airlines thanked Red Sox fans for their business and congratulated us on the series sweep. Most of the Sox fans got on flights to New Hampshire and Rhode Island, and I got on a plane to Pittsburgh to see Jane, a friend from Boston. I spent Monday morning at an awesome dinosaur exhibit at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History and seeing inspiring modern art the the adjoining art museum. After that Jane gave me a tour of her lab and then we went up to the 36th floor of the Heinz Cathedral of Learning to enjoy an awesome view of the city. Then we went on the carousel. From there I went downtown and walked along the rivers and saw all the bridges. To get back to Squirrel Hill (where Jane and all the other Jews live) I was waiting and waiting for a bus from downtown, but didn't see the bus Jane told me about. Finally another bus to Squirrel Hill came and I got on it and asked the bus driver where it went. He was very friendly and told me to sit down and enjoy a different route to Squirrel Hill and that he'd tell me where to get off. We started talking about what I was doing in town and he asked where I lived. I told him I lived in Jerusalem, and as usual held my breath as I waited for his response. He grinned and told me his grand nephew had just joined the Israeli army, and we proceeded to discuss aliyah eligibility and rights. A few stops later another passenger got on and joined in on the conversation. He told me how he once opened an aliyah file and considered it for awhile before settling in Pittsburgh, but he hoped to bring his daughter for a visit this coming year. The whole experience was so unexpected and wonderful. Whoever thought I'd be wished "b'hatzlacha" ("good luck") as I got off a bus in Pittsburgh? That evening we went to PNC Park to watch the Pirates take on the Washington Nationals. Pirates lost, but it was a beautiful park and a fun time (good company too).

Tuesday morning I woke up ridiculously early (after a late night bonding with Jane) to be driven to the airport for my flight to Philadelphia to visit my grandma. It was a short and sweet visit. My grandma fed me well but I wasn't there long enough to get too many lectures. It was a nice somewhat relaxed couple of days. Thursday midday I was on the road again, this time to... shudder... sigh... New York. I was all ready to fulfill my goal of wearing a Red Sox shirt to a Sox-Yankees game at Yankee Stadium. I have nothing else of importance to say about that, except that I was happy to see another friend (especially one who hated the Yankees just as much and was fully supportive throughout the travesty that was that evening's game). We're smiling in this picture out of politeness, not actual happiness.

Thursday night I stayed with my friends Ashira and Tim. I think it was the third night ever I spent in NYC. Probably a good thing. On Friday I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art with Rebecca #3 who was an excellent tour guide. FYI, the Met will not let you keep carry-on luggage in coatcheck. Luckily I discovered this, totally by accident, before going. So if you are ever in NYC and need to store your bag check out Schwartz Travel Services They're as Jewish as it gets, and for $7 my bag was safe for the day just two blocks from Penn Station.

Friday afternoon I headed down to Teaneck to visit my adorable little cousins Aharon, Adina, Eitan, Tani, Shimmy, Lila, and Akiva. I stayed with the latter four and had a wonderful time catching up and watching them do all sorts of amazing things. Akiva just turned two and is already speaking in full sentences. I woke up Sunday morning to him asking his mom to make havdallah for him. He also says amazing things like "my feet are naked" and "I'm walking on woodchips". Here are pictures of two of my cousins, Akiva and Eitan, because they're just that cute.

Sunday night I stayed with my friend Janice in Washington Heights and was visited by Tzippy and Chanan, both friends from high school. It was great seeing everyone. My short stay in the Heights was definitely an experience, but I think it made Katamon seem almost relaxing. Monday morning I took a looooooong subway ride downtown, out of Manhattan, and across Brooklyn down to Coney Island to meet up with my friend Pamela. Pamela and I went on a summer program together ten years ago and have been pretty good at keeping in touch, but hadn't seen each other in way too long. We had a blast riding the Cyclone and catching up. This is a picture of her little boy Eli because he's so cute.
After Coney Island I squeezed in a fifteen minute catch-up section with my longtime friend almost-doctor (well, four more years or so) Isaac and jumped on the subway to head back uptown to catch my bus back to Boston. I rolled in my house in Newton around 11pm exhausted, but happy to have had such an amazing eleven days seeing everyone.

On Tuesday I did my shopping errands and on Wednesday I hung out with my cute cousins Devorah and Yonatan. Since I last saw them, Yonatan has started crawling and loves to laugh. Devorah suggested that maybe I should spend more time with Yonatan than her since she's older and I've known her for longer, so I've spent less time with Yonatan. She's a smart one.

Today is Thursday and I spent the day with my mom. We went to the Museum of Fine Arts (I'm so cultured this trip) and then I went to one more baseball game, this time at Fenway Park. It was nice seeing the Red Sox back home in a more friendly environment. Sadly the Red Sox lost, but it was a good game and fun enjoying the day out with my mom.

I'm in the US for just four more days but there is still lots to do and I have plenty more people lined up to hang out with. Every time I come back I am asked the same series of questions about how Israel is, what I'm doing, how it is to be back, and whether I miss the US. I never really know what people are expecting me to say. Life in Israel has had its ups and downs, but that's more life in general than where I live. And things have been getting better as I build my life there. Of course I miss the US. As I said before, leaving Israel this time was a bit crazy. I felt pulled away from a lot going on in my life. But the second I get to the US, I immediately reconnect to things I left behind. Friends tell me how great it is that I fit so many people into my schedule when I come here. I reply that I know I won't always get to take these long trips, but in the meantime I love celebrating the friends I have and experiencing as much as possible. I love that I spent a morning looking at dinosaur skeletons in Pittsburgh, and another afternoon riding a roller coaster on Coney Island. I love how there are so many places I can go to and have people to stay with and hang out with. I don't know who I'll still be talking to in fifteen years but in the meantime if you're free the fifteen minutes I'll be dashing through your neighborhood, I'm happy to see you.

I am 100% ready to go back to Israel next week. I'm ready to party like crazy at Gila's wedding, finally settle into my new apartment, and celebrate two years of living in Israel. This time I really felt like I was leaving a life behind. I missed celebrating with friends at weddings and hanging out with people I haven't seen for awhile because of school and moving. I hope tomorrow I find out that I got the job. I really, really do. Either way I am looking forward to another successful year in Israel. Maybe not successful in every way... probably in some things more than others. I've kinda liked that feeling while I've been away, that I now have things to go back to when this trip is over. No one has to feel bad about wanting to spend time with their friends and family in the US no matter how often they go back, but I hope anyone living in Israel can still, even if not at first, look forward to returning home.

for all the pictures from my trip check out the facebook album

שבוע שחל בו

2009-07-28T01:37:00.004+03:00

It is the week of Tisha B'Av, and I am sitting in my living room in Newton, MA thinking about the big world around me. Here in Newton, there are newspapers on the kitchen table every morning. I feel far more connected to everything. This isn't to say that when I'm in Israel I don't read the news, but I guess so much of the news there is consumed with internal events and issues that everything else gets stuck in small print at the bottom.

I am also thinking about how history has just slipped by. If not for facebook, I would have forgotten that the evacuation (I paused when I typed that, because how can I really choose one word?) of Gush Katif took place around this time four years ago. I was thinking about it fairly recently when it was discussed at a conference I went to on Trauma and Early Childhood. But I forget that it happened in the heat of the summer, in the month of Av.

What really surprised me was that I was forgetting about the Second Lebanon War, just three years ago. I'm adjusting to a new schedule where the semester doesn't end until the end of June, or really does not end at all, I'm basically vacationing (slash writing papers) for a few weeks, and I forget what period of the year we're in. But how can I forget the war happening? I was in Maryland for the summer and had acquired a TV. My roommate and I sat watching the news for several days. When Tisha B'Av came and we were bored at the end of the day, we figured that watching bombs fall on our homeland did not count as being entertained by the TV.

Last year I wrote about how difficult it often is for me to experience Tisha B'Av. I think the Tisha B'Av that year, during the war, finally hit home for once. In just a few weeks I was leaving for two weeks in Israel for my brother's wedding. I knew that the war wouldn't really impact my trip, but it was pretty daunting what could be going on while I was there (it ended about a week before my arrival). When I got to Israel I witnessed the effects of war on a people. I was volunteering in a soup kitchen and several people who came were essentially displaced persons from the North. It was one of those "reality hitting home" moments, appropriate for Tisha B'Av, when I remembered that while we have Israel, there's still plenty to fight for.

Facebook is also reminding me of the most powerful moment of that war-- when my roommate and I saw on the news that Michael Levin had been killed in battle. I had no idea who he was at the time aside from him being American, but I quickly learned that his twin sister was a few years ahead of me at UMD. The following year on Yom Hazikaron, the UMD memorial service was centered around Michael. His sister Dara spoke along with several of his friends. The looks on their faces and tears in their eyes is seared in my memory forever. It put a face on the war, on what happens in Israel far too often. Since then I am amazed at how few degrees of separation I am from Michael. Everyone seems to have known him. Whenever his name appears in my news feed my world shrinks immediately.

I am currently writing a paper about secondary traumatization, or "what happens when the helpers get hurt." It's all about experiencing traumatic events through other people and the effects it can have on the listener or people close to the victim. Secondary Traumatic Stress Disorder is considered an occupational hazard for helping professionals (therapists, firemen, teachers). It is obviously something undesirable. On the other hand, thinking about the phenomenon of STSD is getting me to think about how to experience Tisha B'Av. Tisha B'Av is a day of communal mourning, but not all of us feel the same traumatic effects of tragedies that have happened to the Jewish people and to Israel. I think part of getting together on Tisha B'Av to say kinot is to work through each other to feel the meaning of the day and look forward towards a better future.

I know that all I have to do is think about Dara Levin speaking about her brother that first Yom Hazikaron, and the tears on my friends' faces as they planted a tree on the Hillel lawn in his memory. But I'm also thinking about the new Michael Levin z"l Center for Lone Soldiers which I know will help a lot of my friends, while I wish with all my heart that (even though it's really like camp and you're all a bunch of children) one day soon there won't need to be an army that so many of my friends will be called to serve in.

Katamon through the eyes of a 15 year old, and getting ready to move on

2009-07-04T23:38:00.005+03:00

For the four years I was in high school, my brother was in college. About twice a year I would spend shabbat with him at Brandeis and have a blast hanging out with the "big kids." All his friends got to know me pretty well. I was (and still am) simply the coolest little sister ever.

Last week I got to host Tess. Tess, who is now 15, is the first kid I ever babysat for. I've known her and her brother for fourteen years. Even before I officially babysat for the kids I would go over all the time on shabbat afternoons. So when Tess asked if she could stay with me before going to camp up North, I was pretty excited. As the youngest in my family, I never got to play big sister the way my siblings did at college. The difference? When I visited Brandeis I was hanging out with people five years older than me, at a familiar place, and only twenty minutes from my house. Tess survived a shabbat full of meals and parties with people fifteen years older. To put that in other mathematical terms, they're twice her age. Add on top of that being 6,000 miles away from home, in a totally unfamiliar place, and in an environment she knew nothing of... I would say she was pretty brave (not knowing that she would need to be).

Now, Tess is a pretty smart kid. Of course this isn't surprising because I taught her most of what she knows. I gave her as much background info about this place as I could: most people are twice your age, some are creepy and some aren't, etc. It was funny hearing her reactions, how she picked up on certain situations between various couples and groups of people, and how she perceived the overall madness of a bunch of 25-35 year old single people thrown together in the phenomenon that is the Jerusalem social scene. It was humorous and only slightly disturbing when she talked about dilemmas interacting with boys her age and I informed her that fifteen years from now nothing will have changed. My favorite moments were when I encouraged her to stop by the "housecooling" party on Mendele (sometimes you need to take advantage of opportunities to see things) and prefaced it with "Remember those times I let you stay up late as long as you promised not to tell your parents? Well this is like one of those times, except this time you really can't say anything." The other favorite moment was when she said the funniest thing ever. "It's not, like, that these guys are so old, it's like... they should just be married already." Oh Tess, how much they would all agree with you. Anyway, I would say besides her getting lost twice within the first ten minutes of me letting her out of my sight and almost winding up in the gay pride parade, I was an excellent hostess and a paragon of virtue in every way.

And now back to the real world. Classes are over. My Hebrew final is over. I went to an interesting conference about trauma and early childhood. I only got bored in the middle of one session and retired to the napping room (it's so nice and empty these days). I have two more finals and five papers to get started on, but can't even imagine starting on any of that until I get over the next big hurdle in my life: moving. I have the keys to my new apartment. My landlord was ridiculously obsessive about having it painted and cleaned perfectly for us. Ilene, my new roommate, arrives on aliyah on Tuesday. I have some stuff moved in and my movers are coming Monday. I was on hold three times with the electric company before successfully switching the account into my name. I spent over an hour waiting at the municipality to put the apartment in our names, and tomorrow I take on the water company. My room is full of incredibly heavy boxes (movers here are like superheros- I don't know how they do it) and tomorrow I'm going to check out a fridge. Lisa is running around the apartment getting her stuff ready for movers coming tomorrow morning. And Harriet just plopped down next to me and started cleaning herself. Some things haven't changed... yet.

Last night Elie and Yoel (and Clive) came for dinner, as usual. This morning we davenned, also as usual, at the 8:45 Chovevei minyan and stuck around for kiddush. Alissa and I decided that next week we'll brave Ramban together. We even shook on it. Probably in two weeks we'll be back at Chovevei. It's not THAT much farther. Two weeks ago we celebrated Yoel and Alissa's engagement with an oneg (I'm not sure we could have moved out of this apartment before that happened) and last week we had one last hurrah with a seudat shlishit. And somehow out of our 20 or so guests only 3 or 4 were female. Yeah, that's our friends for you.

I don't feel a need to get all nostalgic and list all the things I loved about living here and with these roommates, and list everything I'm going to miss. Besides Harriet the Spy. I will miss the cute little par-par. Even though she's still sitting next to me cleaning her butt. As I said in the last post, it's amazing at how where you wind up living effects so much else. I felt the same way after graduating from UMD. I went there on a whim (okay, not quite a whim, but lets not get into that) and I can't imagine my life now without those friends and experiences. We decided to live in this apartment because it was the best deal with found. We had no idea who was living around the corner from here. Ted's kiddushs were something of a legend to everyone else but us. Elie and Yoel became our regular guests, and now my roommate is engaged to Yoel. I'm only moving a mile or so away. A 35 minute walk, tops. But this was my first home in Israel, and this is where I built my life here.

Now it's time for the next chapter, as we're calling it. New apartment, new roommate, new adventures, no cat. And I'm excited. I hate change. I handle change really, really badly. But it's going to be good. And in three weeks I'm going to the US for a month so my real start in the new place will be after being in the US and not straight from living here. And to my roommates- once a roommate, always a roommate. You join the ranks of some of the coolest people ever. Lisa- we met on August 20, 2002, spent 4 years planning our aliyah, and 5 years after that date made aliyah together. I think that's pretty neat. Then we found Alissa, and together the three of us braved the Jerusalem social scene for two years. We spent hours pondering the social dynamics and other mysteries of this place, and probably came up with nothing useful and conclusive. Except for getting Alissa engaged. Now I'll live with someone new to the scene and when she brings these issues up I can be like "oh that, we went through that last December, and sorry to say the situation is totally hopeless." How fun will that be?

That Par-Par is still next to me, and is now asleep. Furry ball of love. And I think that's the perfect way to end this blog entry.

Getting anything at all done in Israel: It's as easy as hoping the person you're dealing with woke up on the right side of the bed

2009-06-04T15:45:00.002+03:00

Doing the paperwork to transfer a foreign license here is relatively easy (this is the part that happens before they fail you for no apparent reason, but that's a separate issue). You go to one of two optometrists in the city for an eye test and to receive a form. You then need a doctor to sign it. Then you bring it to Israel's version of the DMV with your Teudat Oleh and your license. This worked perfectly fine the first time. Then my teacher lost my form and it took two months for him to successfully tell me this (because all my contact information was on the form he lost).

Doing it all again was time-consuming, but not such a big deal. I got the form from the optometrist when I happened to be in town, and I needed a doctors appointment anyway. The tricky part was going to the Misrad HaRishui (DMV). They are open every morning and two afternoons a week. I first went in the afternoon before my babysitting job which isn't too far from the place.

After a reasonable 30 minute wait the woman behind the desk I was called up to turned to her co-worker and asked "Do we process these things during afternoon hours?" The co-worker said no. Now, these are the same people who work there in the mornings. Okay, whatever, no patience to argue. I leave.

Today after a successful morning working out arnona (property tax- paid by renters) with my roommates and getting paperwork at Bituach Leumi (national insurance bureau) to then go back to the municipality and claim I'm poor so I can get a discount on arnona I set out back towards Talpiot for an interview at an amazing gan. More on that later, if I get the job.

The interview went great and better yet it was over just after 11 so I had plenty of time to go back to the Misrad HaRishui to try again. I took a number and with 80 people in front of me I went across the street to do grocery shopping. I came back with 40 people left to go and within a reasonable amount of time it was my turn. I happily handed over the required paperwork. Or so I thought. "This license was issued after you made aliyah." "I know." "We need one issued before." "But that one expired and I have a new one." "Where's the old one?" "I have no freakin' idea." "You need to bring us something that says you had an older license.

UGH. Just when I was about to freak out at having to figure out what country my old license is in I remembered that I had a photocopy of it which I thought I needed the first time around (months ago). I even thought of bringing it today but then thought "That's silly, it's expired." I wasn't allowed to bring the wine I got into the building. Maybe they think it will be used as a weapon. Gee, I wonder why? I have no idea when I will have time to go there again.

In other news, I'm moving to Baka in 4-5 weeks. My new apartment is on Ben Yefuneh, down the street from where Ulpan Etzion used to be. The apartment is perfectly located near the good supermarkets and two blocks away from my bus to campus and my roommate's bus to the new Ulpan Etzion. I can't believe I am about to move out of my first home in Israel, and away from my first roommates in Israel (yes Harriet the Spy, you too). It's amazing how many things happened the way they did because of the area I lived in, who I see at shul, and who I run into on the streets. You know what I'm referring to. And if you don't, maybe I'll tell you one day. The new apartment isn't so far but it's going to be a whole new world for me. But come visit. I even got a couch for people to sit on. There might even be enough for for you to stretch out your feet, if you aren't too tall.

The next few weeks holds much excitement. Besides moving, I have a bunch of friends being sworn into the army next week, a kid I used to babysit for (starting when she was 1, 14 years ago) is coming to stay with me, I will sort of be done with my first year of graduate school (except for the 3 finals and 5 papers) and I have lots of friends coming to Israel in July (some even to stay!). And then I might go to the US for a month. Who knows?

I have some things to say about politics. And a piece about the social scene. I think I'll save them for later. Though later might be ten minutes from now.

My Many Talents

2009-05-12T12:48:00.003+03:00

I am Hebrew-Composition-BSer extraordinaire. Every other week I am supposed to choose from a list of 15 topics, of which, for some reason, at least half have to do with politics, and write something like sixteen sentences in Hebrew about it. The teacher then marks up the composition with a series of cryptic symbols for us to interpret so we can revise our work and hand it back in two weeks later. This morning I wrote about whether or not politics interest me. I don't know how much of what I wrote I actually believe but hey, as long as I have something to hand in. Why should my one page assignments be any different than my ten page ones?

I am also very cranky. I've been tired and lacking in energy and can't figure out why. And I went to five parties in the past five days. And my teacher confronted me (nicely) after class and asked if I was falling asleep because I didn't understand what she was talking about. I wasn't about to tell her that I don't think anything concrete is actually discussed in the class. Instead, in my expert I-now-know-how-Israelis-really-talk Hebrew responded "סתם, אני עייפה" ("I'm just tired"). I successfully stayed awake in the following class. I've been feeling really self-conscious about my head lobbing forward when I space out and get sleepy. It rarely has anything to do with the class. Probably has more to do with spending my days sitting through hour and a half long classes. I also noticed that I only doze off when my classmates are speaking. Probably because they just like hearing the sound of their voice. A note about my classmates though- my going away reminded them how fascinating I am in their eyes. They were eager to hear about where I'm from and then asked the famous question of "So we're glad you're here, but why in the world did you leave?" איך אומרים brainwash בעברית? Yes, I really responded that. I should probably come up with the Hebrew to be a bit more thorough in these conversations.

Back to the five parties in five days. Not surprisingly, this was all really overwhelming for me. Each party had its perks though. The first one was a fellow UMD grad celebrating his recent official declaration of aliyah. I pretty much only spoke to other UMD grads. It's sort of like my safety zone. No shtick, no small talk-- just shmoozing. The second one was a kiddush hosted by someone in Katamon in honor of his birthday. Same old. Feel free to refer to past postings for that. Well same old except for the game I mistakenly encouraged a friend to play. Mental note: Do not encourage a married person to get drunk and hit on random guys. She may take you seriously, and that's just wrong. The third party was in Nachlaot. I had never been to Nachlaot so this was more of an adventure, and I was happy to find two friends to at least somewhat willingly be dragged along as wingmen, and that they were friends equally weary about stepping foot in Nachlaot. We survived. I spoke to one person about plans to play catch and other stories from the weekend. I had no desire to attempt conversation with anybody else. If I had, this is pretty much how it would go:

me: Hey, how've you been?
person: Good, and you?
me: Pretty good.
person: How was the US?
me: It was great (depending on my mood, may add in cynical comment about how it was
wonderful and I should have never left)
person: Cool. I read your status updates.
me: That's wonderful.
[awkward backing up and both of us moving on to have exact sort of conversation with someone else]

At the third party I just spoke to the person next to me. We both went to UMD and didn't really know each other there, but now we have been to the same four parties in five days (among other events) and manage to have conversations that go beyond "You're in grad school, right? I know I use this as a conversation starter every time we talk but it's just easier this way."

And it is easier. I totally appreciate that. And I'm glad there are these constant parties with the same people because each time I have more people to say hi to and besides random encounters on shabbat or shabbat meals I have to face the facts: unless I make plans with people, this is when I'm going to see them. Making plans is tricky because everyone has different schedules I don't know about and... okay fine, I'm a wimp and even if I'm sure I'll have a super awesome time going out for ice cream with a few people I don't make the phonecalls. Is that reason for me not to have the right to complain? Eh, maybe. There's definitely more to overcome.

A few weeks ago when I was on my way from the airport to College Park I called my friend to let him know I was almost there. "We're going to a church rummage sale. Get here soon." This sounded perfectly normal to me, and we did in fact go to a church rummage sale. I wanted to buy something small but noticeable to have on an end table or something here in Israel and when someone commented on it I could casually say "Oh that, I got that a church rummage sale. Wonderful deal." Sadly I did not find anything worthy. Sometimes I wonder if in my post-college life I'm supposed to do more sophisticated things and not be as goofy. Maybe I get frustrated because I'm supposed to be different, or maybe because I am different and haven't figured out yet how I've changed.

In either case it upsets me that possibly except for the people who have been over for meals and seen my train set and read my picture books, or have asked questions about my interests beyond explaining what my degree is in, I still feel unknown. Not so much understood. When someone hears that I was so happy when I finally had the chance to go down that huge slide at Gan Sakker I have no reason to think they won't understand what I'm talking about (even if they don't admit it). I also used to be hopelessly optimistic about almost everything. Consider that for a moment.

The fifth party was last night in honor of Lag Ba'Omer. There was a decent bonfire and huge amounts of people. The party was in honor of a bunch of friends going into the army this week. While I was totally party-ed out, I felt it was a worthy cause for celebration. A few of them were guys I met pretty soon after making aliyah, and I know that finally starting the army is really important to them. So I went. But this time, I carefully selected who I was going to talk to. That basically meant I spoke to the few people I hadn't seen at at least one of the past four parties. I also targeted (wow, that word seems so wrong here) people I thought I could have conversations with that went beyond the script posted above. I think I was somewhat successful, but like in any social situation you don't always get to choose the people you talk to. I'm not trying to insult everyone else. Really. It just sounds that way. But last night I learned some important things about myself (and probably others picked up on it as well).

When I get socially overwhelmed, I am very good at getting cranky. When I get cranky, I can be more cynical. Add being tired and frustrated on top of that and I might border on being rude. I apologize to anyone who suffered because of that. Another thing to know is that when I get that cranky I need to unwind, and unwinding might involve spending an hour sitting in the park blowing bubbles. I am starting to seriously wonder how to present myself to my "new world" the way I want to be known and understood so that maybe the script can become an ancient blog entry. So lets start with that. Blowing bubbles is relaxing. I plan to partake in that activity in the near future. If you can appreciate that, that's awesome- lets talk. If not, we'll stick with the script. But I'd really rather not.

My Step-by-Step Guide to a Day in Paris

2009-04-30T23:14:00.002+03:00

1) Book a flight with a 12 hour layover in Paris.
2) Have a friend coincidentally have the same flight to Paris, but with only a 4 hour layover.
3) Get the idea in said friend's head that 4 hours might possibly be enough time to maybe go into the city, see the Eiffel Tower, and get back to the airport in time.
4) Leave the friend alone during the flight to allow him or her to develop this idea on his or her own.
5) Upon arrival in Paris, don't say anything that suggests you truly think it's a crazy idea.
6) Spend an hour wandering around the terminal searching for the bus that supposedly goes to somewhere a short distance from the Eiffel Tower.
7) Fail to find the bus, and get on another bus instead. Bus ride should take longer than expected.
8) Enjoy your friend's company on the bus despite the friend starting to freak out that this was a bad idea.
9) Get off at the Opera House.
10) Get yelled at by a French guy in his car who claims you interrupted his friends to have them take your picture.
11) Say farewell to your friend as they get back on the bus a total of ten minutes later to go back to the airport.
12) Spend the day wandering around Paris, in and around museums, checking out all the highly inappropriate artwork that the city has to offer. Take pictures of your favorite stuffed animal in compromising positions with the statues.
13) Eat at a restaurant that makes their own pasta and tomato sauce.
14) Walk the long way to the Eiffel Tower because you'd think it would stick up over the skyline and we easy to walk towards. You will be very wrong about this.
15) After going up the Eiffel Tower take a cab to the Arc de Triumphe where the bus you planned on taking from the airport supposedly has a spot. Spend ten minutes wandering around looking for it and getting absolutely no help from the generally unfriendly French policemen and other locals.
16) Get in yet another cab to get back to the Opera House.
17) Arrive at the gate 5 minutes before boarding.
18) Pass out on the plane from being on your feet for 12 hours straight.

ונאמר לפניו שירה חדשה

2009-04-16T06:13:00.002+03:00

I have been putting off writing this blog entry because I've been swamped with shopping sprees, playdates with the cousins, and general holiday craziness. But tonight, when I am wired from a yom tov nap and can sleep late tomorrow while the rest of my family goes to shul for one last round, I have the time and energy to reflect on Pesach this year. I once again (see my entry from last year) spent the second seder reading comments in the haggadah since I had no real need to say every word of the text. Just like last year, I used the "הלילה הזה" haggadah. It is highly recommended, and nearly all the comments I'm about to make come from things I read in it.

Every year in the days leading up to Pesach I feel two "guilts." One is that I do not have the patience to sit with a stack of haggadahs and prepare comments and questions for the seder night. The other is that I can't fathom how to imagine myself as having gone out of Egypt. Even if I'm having a horrible week, and now when I have experienced the "end result" of making my new home in Israel, it just doesn't click.

This year, as I read the comments in the haggadah and pondered all this I started noticing how the seder night is not only a process in the sense that we start with step one of kiddush and end with nirtzah, but it also inserts the participants into the process of slavery to freedom and telling the story. When we do yachatz and break the matzah in half, we are emulating what poor people do when, despite being hungry, they put away half of the little they have to save for a meal much later. We then delve into the process of magid, telling the story, come to our "happy ending," praise God with Hallel, and start in on the meal. Okay, so that sort of does it. But there's something bigger here.

At the seder we tell the story of being in Egypt so we can explore the realities and feelings of being a slave. The idea is that we can connect the story of our past with anything we're feeling and experiencing in our present lives, or have experienced in the past. Everyone at the table participates. The entire seder is like this. We read the words from the haggadah, but the entire experience is interspersed with stories from our family and friends at the table. A lot of the narrative is told through midrash which does not directly tell us the story, but rather sparks conversation at the table. I grew up in a household where my father would randomly pull a chumash off the bookshelf and ask me what I thought about a certain midrash. I might be lounging on the couch reading a book, and I would eagerly drop it aside for these occasions. There are two "processes" going on at the seder-- moving ourselves from slavery to freedom, and taking part in the oral tradition.

Freedom is the privilege to speak openly. Everyone has their stories, and as free people we tell them at the seder. From the beginning of the seder, when anyone (including kids) who wants to recites the kiddush, we talk about the custom in my grandmother's home for everyone to say their own kiddush. The first time my grandmother partook in this custom might have been 90 years ago, and I continue it today. Everyone has a different story to tell- their own ways of connecting to the exodus from Egypt and the Pesach experience throughout the years. Every year new generations of stories are added to this process. The meal portion of the seder is the literal food, but the stories satiate us just as much.

One time in fifth grade we had this insane substitute for Hebrew class. I mean INSANE. He spent the entire class jumping around the room talking about the mitzvah of והגדת לבנך, telling the story of the Exodus to your children. I don't even think it was in the chumash we were studying at the time. He went on and on, emphasizing again and again how important it is to tell the next generations about our history and things that happened generations ago. Every year we go through the seder again, and we tell the story again. Part of the story is what people at the seder add in about "that time at my grandfather's house..." or "when my sister ate too much marror." The stories come together and reinvent the experience for subsequent years. We tell the same story of the Exodus every year because each time you notice new things the story takes on a different form. Maybe that crazy substitute teacher had a point.

The next part of my reflections comes from an idea that's been around for awhile. Why, in "Dayenu," do we say that if we had only left Egypt or only reached Har Sinai that it would have been enough for us? Because we appreciate each miracle as it is. Going with my "seder as a process" idea I was thinking that it's not just appreciating each miracle independently. It's understanding the process and what it took to get us from slaves in Egypt to where we are today. And obviously the story keeps going. We're still reaching for something. However you want to look at the Mashiach coming and what the future holds, there's something history is moving towards. So when I say kiddush because that was the custom in my grandmother's household, or learn a midrash with my father I am continuing something. And when my (other) grandmother tells me it's a good thing I'm living in Israel because that's where the family was always supposed to wind up I am working towards a new stage in my family's story and in the story of the Jewish people as a whole.

The Dvar Torah in shul today was about why we don't say Shirat HaYam at the seder even though it is such an important part of the story and all the miracles that took place. The answer given was that the seder is all about living in the moment, experiencing the experience from the depths of slavery all the way through the redemption of leaving Egypt. Shirat HaYam happened later, after the actual exodus. We do however say Hallel as a form of spontaneous praise for everything that happened. We begin Hallel at the end of magid because we are so excited about everything we "went through" that we feel an immediate need to praise God.

So maybe I still can't imagine myself as a slave in Egypt and understand what it felt like to witness a zillion miracles and then leave in the middle of the day, with all the Egyptians watching in disbelief. But I do know what it's like to be a part of something big, a part of the process, a part of history. One day when my children ask I will be able to insert myself into the story and tell them of my experiences in this world as a Jew. And as someone who picked up and moved to Israel, I definitely understand the end point, or at least the goal (who can really say what the "end" is?). In each generations we are saved-- from something-- so that we can experience the freedom we enjoy every day.

Every year we go back to the same story, the same paragraph of עבדים היינו "We were slaves." We tell the story and go through the motions, but every year it changes. We and the people around us at the seder add in their stories and reflections. The words of Hallel don't change, but I think the objective of the seder night is to reach the point where our personal history and national history inspire the outburst of song in Hallel...

ונאמר לפניו שירה חדשה

Post-Purim wrap up

2009-03-12T13:08:00.003+02:00

I learned some interesting things/ made some interesting observations on Purim. Here are some of them. I think I'm getting really into itemized blog posts.

1) Walking around town in a cape never gets old. Having my face covered in blue paint and wearing a big red nose made it that much more fun. Except when a random person tried to pinch my nose. That was creepy. Though I did enjoy explaining my costume to a car full of sketchy Israelis as I was walking up Rechov Azza and they were stuck in traffic.
2) Europeans don't really know anything about Sesame Street characters. It's sad.
3) When your face is covered in blue paint, exhibit caution when giving someone in a nice sports jacket a hug.
4) On Purim people are as excited to get rid of junk food as they are to receive it.
5) The small chocolate store on Emek Refaim had megillah readings in it throughout the night. Probably Chabad related. How awesome is that?
6) There can be a zillion parties and cool things going on in an evening, but what beats catching up with an old friend in a cafe?
7) I once again showed that I can drink an entire bottle of wine (moscato) on my own and not get drunk. Even when it's followed up with a Smirnoff ice. I did get some interesting comments.
8) The seudah I went to in the late afternoon made me think of a shabbaton where everyone pregamed. It was all Bnei Akiva/NCSY sorts of songs but sang by people who could barely stand up straight.
9) If you want someone to take you seriously when you explain your job to them, do not also explain why your pants are wet and announce you have a wedgie (and proceed to address that issue as well). This is especially true if you are often on the news. I don't want to be watching a piece about Israeli soldiers in Gaza and think "that guy once spilled water all over his pants and picked a wedgie in front of me."
10) I've seen very few of my college friends drunk even though I went to a huge party school and many of them were drunk while we were there. I think I'm very happy about that though. Except for a certain incident on Simchat Torah when a certain someone was insisting that he could drive home safely, if only he could remember where he parked his car.
11) A combination of dishwashing soap and rubbing alcohol works well for removing facepaint. Also, Crayola marker washes off more easily than facepaint.
12) Shushan Purim is the best. You fast for a day, have a day to get really excited, and then the party begins. And on all those days you can wear a costume and be totally normal.
13) Purim makes the weird Israeli ladies with purple hair look normal for a few days.
14) I'm slightly jealous of Atara and Alexander. They're 8 and 6 and I didn't get to go to wild parties until I was at least ten or eleven. I had pretty low standards though.
15) Even though I wasn't drunk, can certain things I did after drinking the wine not count?

משנכנס אדר מרבים בשמחה

2009-02-23T20:53:00.002+02:00

There's no better place to feel the excitement of Adar than in Israel. Several bakeries started selling hamantashen weeks ago. Stories are cropping up all over with Purim costumes. Toys R Us had its costume circular out at least a month ago. I'm excited. I started buying ingredients for hamantashen and have determined when the best time will be the bake them. If I have the time I'm going to refurbish my costume. It has, after all, been around ten years since I first made it. It will probably still be me in superhero form. Some things I can't do without.

This year Rosh Chodesh Adar sort of crept up on me. Last year was a leap year, so we had a whole extra month to prepare. During that month my apartment threw its first party in honor of mine and Lisa's 6 month aliyah anniversary. Over shabbat I quietly celebrated 18 months.

I will never forget Rosh Chodesh Adar (Bet) last year. How can anyone living in Jerusalem? The evening started off relatively quiet when suddenly ambulances were racing through all parts of town headed to Yeshivat Mercaz HaRav in Kiryat Moshe-- well on the other side of town from where I am. You can read about that experience in my blog post from a year ago. This year I almost feel like I'm holding my breath. I want to dive right into the celebrations of Adar and Purim, but isn't that what we were so ready to do last year? I'm thinking about a couple months ago when our brothers and friends were at war in Gaza and you could see the worry on everyone's faces. But it was worry, not terror. What happened last Rosh Chodesh Adar was terrifying. This year I'm taking an extra moment before filling up with happiness.

I still, as usual... or at least some of the time... find things to be happy about. In fact, I would dare to say my optimism is slowly crawling back. Maybe in a few months I'll stop saying things like "I had all these awesome reasons for making aliyah and I've spend the past year and a half trying to remember what they are." We'll see. It is pretty incredible that it's been 18 months. In 5 weeks I'll be making another trip back to the US for Pesach. While I'm incredibly stressed about getting all my work done from first semester, I have a pretty good feeling it will get done okay.

Once I get these 5 more papers done the time will fly by. Before my trip I get to go to two weddings of two good friends. I can't wait to see my little cousins in America and give them huge hugs. Even though the second semester won't even be halfway over when I return at the beginning of May, I'll already be thinking about the summer (not that I have any idea how I'm going to spend it). As for the summer I can't wait for some very special visitors and at least one oleh chadash- you know who you are.

Before I finish this off, just a note about my trip to Eilat last week. I promised myself that one day I would actually take a vacation in Israel. Not just because I miss being a tourist but because I really needed some time to unwind and to see the beauty of the country. I had a fantastic time. I never really went on vacations as a kid, so staying in a hotel was really exciting. I finally understand how relaxing sitting by the pool reading can be. For three days I was able to push everything aside and just chill. I was even with a couple people I barely knew which kept my mind off the people I do know well (not that I have issues with all of you, just some of you :-)). And I had the most fabulous steak. Sometimes you just have to empty your wallet and enjoy.

Procrastination and its best

2009-02-15T13:21:00.003+02:00

There are so many things I have to do right now, so what better time to write a blog post? It's been awhile. In the spirit of the "25 things" note all over facebook (and for the convenience of my roommate Alissa) this post will be itemized, but I highly doubt there will be 25 items.

1. On February 4th I had my last class of the semester. That means I sat through just about 100 classes taught in Hebrew. That's definitely an accomplishment in itself.

2. That puts me at "between semesters" vacation. What does this mean? This means that in the last couple of weeks of the semester all the teachers gave me assignments, nearly all of them in the form of papers, that are due at the beginning of next semester.

3. What does that mean in practice? The five weeks in between semesters are not at all vacation, rather the time for me to write 6 papers. A 7th can be handed in as late as next September because the teacher is going on sabbatical and isn't in any rush.

4. I wrote one paper so far. It was about emotional intelligence. I knew nothing about it prior to writing the paper (aside from the half a class spent n it) but I think I managed to write a decent paper. I also consider myself pretty emotionally intelligent. Feel free to bore yourself with my paper and find out what that means.

5. On Friday February 6th I took the final for level 5 of Hebrew. If I got an 80 or above I can skip into level 6. It was the first hard Hebrew test I've taken in my life. I have no idea how I did. I can probably find out, but I'd rather wait a few weeks. Might disrupt my "intense work habits."

6. Last week I got a haircut (a bit too short) and went to the dentist. Once in awhile in my new life I suddenly wake up and remember all the basic care a body needs. I felt very accomplished.

7. I feel like I have a bunch of friends around here I haven't seen in awhile and really miss, but it's nice to think I have friends like you. You know who you are (I think) so come crawl out of your caves.

8. Plane ticket prices have dropped significantly. The ticket I bought for April is now being sold for over $200 less. Makes me wish I could just go to America for a week, but $800 still isn't exactly cheap. I am however really excited to see my family in April. It's been a long time, and I miss them a lot. I also get to spend a day in France on the way back.

9. I just got takeout and picked up a can of root beer on my way home. Oh the good things in life.

10. Sometimes I think my cat is more motivated than I am. She learned up to open the container her food is in, so we moved it to the cabinet above the stove. Today she jumped on the overhang over the stove and tried to open the cabinet to get to her food. And here I am wasting time writing blog entires and updating my status.

11. Superbowl Sunday was a couple weeks ago. It was the night before my last Monday of classes. I realized I couldn't not watch the Superbowl, but I could get away with skipping a couple of classes. This year's strategy seemed to work: watched Superbowl until it ends at 5:30am, change into clothes for that day, and go to sleep for two hours. I was "wide awake" for my class at 8:30. Then went home at 12. It was an amazing game followed by an excellent celebratory kiddush on shabbat morning.

12. At said kiddush I lost a game of war to a 6 year old. I still claim he cheated.

13. I really, really need to be working on another paper right now.

14. But instead I'm writing a blog post. And on Tuesday morning I'm going to Eilat for three days. We're staying in a 5 star hotel. I've never done that before. In fact, I've never been on a beach vacation. I really, really can't wait.

15. I had to give a presentation in class. This meant speaking Hebrew, which I was a bit nervous about. I had to present my idea for my hypothetical qualitative research project. My topic is transitional objects. Mental note: to avoid needing to say much pick a topic other people will have a lot to say about. My presentation was 40 minutes long. I spoke for maybe the first two minutes of it. Everyone said I did a great job. Pat on the back for me.

16. We just had elections here. I voted for a small party, Meimad, that was not expected to get in to the Knesset and in the end didn't. It's still nice to know that a lot of people I know voted for them. They were the only party that seemed to care passionately about social issues. I'm all for addressing security concerns in this country, but what are we going to do about a strike-ridden school system that causes uneducated teenagers to roam the streets? I'm very much into the bottom up approach. The entire process of watching the campaigns and deciding who to vote for made me think a lot about what I believe in and what I believe for the country I live in. Hopefully some good will come of the next government... whatever that government way be. For more information on the craziness that is forming the Israeli government, google it online. It would take me way too long to explain.

17. I think I owe a lot of people emails. Really I wish I could have a series of three hour long lunch dates with all of them. A lot of people are my good consciences, each in their own way.

That's all for now. Maybe I'll go do work now.

Inspiration- in honor of the 5th yartzheit of Mikey Butler and Miss Sharon Steiff

2009-01-26T22:32:00.005+02:00

Don't leave your participles dangling. Remember your FANBOYS (for, and, nor, but, or, yet, so) and place commas accordingly. Stop saying 'like' every other second. Take that gum out of your mouth- you look like a cow. Some of the nicest clothes can be purchased at Marshall's Boutique. It's all about how you present yourself.

Eleven years later, I'm all set for the cocktail party. Miss Steiff worked us hard for two years in 7th grade and again in 8th grade. Whenever we complained, she insisted that everything she was teaching us was pertinent for our future attendance at cocktail parties. Generations of Maimonides students came out prepared. We joked that our senior year fund-raising banquet (aka "the senior prom") was the ultimate test. We dressed up all nice and were paraded around the room so all the grown ups could "ooh" and "aah." Little did we know when the real work would start. When we arrived at college most of us realized that somehow we were far more articulate in both writing and in speech than many of our classmates. I still see Miss Steiff cringing when I throw in a pointless "like" in the middle of a sentence, or better yet-- the Israeli "k'eeeelu." In honor of Miss Steiff I will do everything in my power to never let that become a part of my regular speech.

When I was in Israel for the year Miss Steiff came to visit with a mission from the Young Israel of Brookline. There's a great picture of us in the Old City that I wish I had scanned on my computer. Soon after that I found out that she had leukemia. I don't think she even finished off teaching the school year. Miss Steiff never married and never had any children, but think about the book Goodbye Mr. Chips. It was like that. She had hundreds of children.

A year or two after I had Miss Steiff as a teacher I met another individual who continues to inspire me. Mikey Butler played drums for the band at the NCSY Fall Regional shabbaton when I was in 9th or 10th grade. I don't even need to explain who Mikey was. You can google his name or do a search on facebook and you'll find countless letters, articles, blog entries, and facebook group posts about how incredible he was. We spoke briefly on the shabbat and then we were in touch for awhile on AIM. I remember once a friend of mine was struggling with something and he graciously talked her through whatever it was. They were really rough years for me too, and I wasn't always finding the right people to turn to, but I'm grateful Mikey was there. Mikey lived twenty four strong years despite battling cystic fibrosis. Then his body just gave in.

I don't usually include sick people's names in my prayers. I don't know why. Maybe I feel like it loses it's meaning after awhile. Mikey and Miss Steiff were the two exceptions. For several months I said both their names in the prayer for the sick. Freshman year when I was in Israel for winter break I attended a huge prayer service for Mikey at the Kotel. There were so many people there of all ages and from so many different places. A couple weeks later I returned to Maryland for the second semester. The first day of the semester was a snow day. In typical Maryland fashion, there probably wasn't really any snow, but I spent the day in my room instead of in class. I forget who I found out about first, but I got two devastating emails that day. Mikey and Miss Steiff had both passed away.

My first instinct was to jump on a train and go straight back to Boston for Miss Steiff's funeral. Besides being my English teacher, she was a distant cousin. My next thought was finding a way to get to Pittsburgh for Mikey's funeral. I really barely knew Mikey, but I felt it was closure I somehow needed. Reality hit and I realized I wasn't going anywhere. I was however able to listen to the eulogies for Mikey over the internet. Over a thousand people were at his funeral.

It's hard to believe that it's been five years since that day. I am now 24, the same age Mikey was when he died. I still think of Miss Steiff every time I correct even the smallest grammatical error, or when I come up with something particularly eloquent to say at a formal event. I still think of Mikey every time I hear someone banging on the drums. The way he played you would never think he was hooked up to an oxygen tank. Absolutely amazing.

This week, in honor of the lives of Miss Steiff and Mikey, I will be thinking about inspiration. The inspiration to express myself and the inspiration to live-- Day By Glorious Day (and in impeccable English).

May both their memories be blessed.

2+ weeks later

2009-01-12T19:45:00.002+02:00

Not much has changed. Some friends have come home from reserve duty. Other ones have left. One left, came home for a day, got engaged, and went back again. My best friend's boyfriend is going into Gaza any day now. Yonatan Netanel z"l was killed by friendly fire and left behind a four month old child. His sister is a student in my department (there were signs at school announcing his death). I was holding a four month old baby when I saw the news on TV. This country is really small.

I am at the point in my semester where I actually have to do work. Teachers are finally telling me what the assignments are that my entire grade will be based on. They will be due over the next two months. A couple are due during the beginning of the next semester. I have 3 1/2 weeks left of class. The end of this semester technically means I'm a quarter done with the program (thesis not included). I still sit quietly through most of my classes. Lately I've been overtired on Mondays and space out a lot (no thanks to a certain Harriet the Spy). Today I got to hand in my own copy of the statistics homework. Okay, it was because my partner couldn't make it, but it was still exciting. Usually we use hers because her Hebrew is actually understandable. Little by little I am speaking more at school but only when I have to. I'll figure it out one of these days.

Everything feels very different. The students are more subdued. My Introduction to Trauma class has been taking on a lot more meaning. Even the professor is expressing how hard it is to be somewhat academic about a topic that's been so real these past couple of weeks. Hebrew U, like other universities, has opened up it's available space in the dorms for students and their families from the south who need a safe place to stay. Families all over the country are opening their homes to total strangers. At the supermarket you can get half price candy and snacks to be delivered to soldiers. I'm hoping to bake cookies for my friends coming back from reserve duty. It's therapeutic. And a way to procrastinate. But mostly therapeutic.

It's hard to complain about how much work I have plenty of time to do but can't get myself to even start when all this is going on. With rockets falling in both the north and south it is hard feeling safe in Jerusalem which is smack in the middle. We are not physically effected at all, but the war is on all our minds. My friend was going to host a movie night last week then sent us all a message saying he just couldn't do it. Not until our friends come home safe. None of us were about to argue.

I kind of wonder how this experience compares to that of students my age in the US when their friends were being sent to fight in Afghanistan and Iraq. Except I know it is definitely different in this case where our friends are two hours away and rockets are falling miles from where the actual fighting is.

The Big Lebowski movie night sounded like fun though I was just happy for an excuse to go out and hang out with friends. Now that it is on hold until everyone comes home, I am really looking forward to it.

Extraordinary

2009-01-06T20:57:00.006+02:00

This blog post was written special for the "Why I LOVE Israel" Blog Carnival. To read about this event and find other entries go to http://realisrael.wordpress.com.
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When I moved to Israel just over a year ago, I did many of the same things anyone else around the world does when they move to a new place. I went to the bank to set up my first bank account on my own. I probably scrunched up my face as I tried to decipher the small print in Hebrew. Then the bank teller welcomed me home.

I usually go to the supermarket on Sundays and then again on Thursday or Friday morning if I'm cooking for Shabbat. It took me awhile to learn where the best places to go shopping are and where I can get the best deals. The most I've learned has probably been from the people I've stood in line with. They are always happy to comment on what I'm about to buy and what good deals I accidentally discovered. Lines in Israel might be a hypothetical concept, but you can always make friends in them.

I spend two days a week at Hebrew University on Mount Scopus. The bus to campus is full of students like me, having rolled out of bed just in time to catch the far too infrequent 30 bus. At school groups of friends sit around the grass talking, laughing, and playing random instruments. The Forum always has vendors selling everything from jewelry to children's books. In the classroom as we discuss the future of Israel's children our similarities are illuminated and our differences are set aside.

When I'm not in school or sitting at home pretending to do homework I'm usually babysitting. There are several families in the neighborhood I help out. Sometimes we play in the house. Other times we go to the park and the kids play with other children they only met moments before. Parents and other babysitters will talk to me like we're old friends. Once in awhile a parent will take out a package of cookies and bottle of juice with enough cups and napkins for everyone there.

I really like to walk everywhere. You walk enough in Jerusalem and you realize how small this place really is. By now I feel that I recognize everybody. Once in awhile I take the bus. When we get near a supermarket there is always at least one elderly man or woman who insists on standing with their many packages instead of taking one of the many seats immediately offered to them. One time a woman handed me her baby to hold while she organized her bags and secured the stroller. She never asked me if it was okay or thanked me afterwards but it didn't matter to me, and none of it came as a surprise.

I love Israel because I can walk down the street and match up the exact place I'm in with an event I read about in the Bible or learned about in a Jewish History class. I love Israel because on Friday afternoon a siren goes off and the city quiets down as people begin Shabbat, however it is they choose to celebrate it. I loved how on the holiday of Succot (Tabernacles) thousands of Christians from around the world paraded through the streets of Jerusalem and were so intensely excited to be in their Holyland. I loved how every night of Chanukah menorahs were lit around campus to celebrate a miracle from hundreds of years ago. I live in Israel so I can be part of a miracle that only started taking formation sixty years ago.

All those things make me love a place, but it took more than that to decide to live here. It took seeing bus drivers refusing to move until all elderly passengers had found seats, and I need to have a superb university to attend for graduate school. I need neighborhood store owners who greet me like an old friend and having total strangers to graciously help me with my charges and become friends with me at the park.

My life here is both ordinary and extraordinary. When I visit the US and tell people about my life here, it seems that they forgot that in Israel too people go to supermarkets and study in graduate school. So I tell them about the ordinary, and I try to sneak in stories about the extraordinary too.

There's a lot out there to read about Israel. A lot of it can be debated for hours on end. The media isn't going to talk about how I opened a bank account and waited anxiously until I heard back about my acceptance to Hebrew University. But in the end of the day, that's what Israel is like. That's what people are doing-- ordinary things, in often extraordinary ways.

When Rockets Are Falling

2009-01-04T13:16:00.006+02:00

This blog post may be just one more excuse not to be interpreting the long neglected powerpoints from my research methodology class, but since my main distractions are facebook and email, and most people are writing to me asking how the situation is here, I feel inspired to write this.

Last shabbat as my roommate and I were walking home from shabbat lunch she said to me that she was worried that when Israel finally attacked Gaza, our friends might be called up to serve. I didn't think so much about it at the time. I wasn't so aware of what the plans really were for when Israel was going to attack, and the only friends that came to mind were the ones in basic training who won't be seeing action for awhile. That evening we found out that while we had that conversation, Israel had begun the attack. It seems silly stating it this way, but since then three of my facebook friends have been called up to reserve duty. I found out this information from their statuses and have read the comments of encouragement from other friends. I guess I forgot that those "old guys" I have as friends served in the army way back when they made aliyah and are now as eligible as any other Israeli to serve in this new war effort.

On a day to day level nothing has changed. If I didn't look at a newspaper (or babysit for the children of a reporter who listens to the headlines at home on the hour) I might never know anything is going on. I guess I am aware of a higher security threat as I board buses and go grocery shopping, but the stores are running as usual and I still need to go out and buy my vegetables despite what is going on an hour away. This past week we were all thankful for another few days of rain and I traveled to Tel Aviv to welcome three friends on aliyah. This is a map from something a friend posted.

Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, and the road from one to the other, are about equidistant from the range of the rockets that have been fired into Israel. Tel Aviv might even be a little closer. I barely gave this a thought as I traveled across the tiny width of the country. It might as well be thousands of miles away.

But it so obviously isn't. Rockets have hit Be'er Sheva. I have friends in school there, and now a friend on reserve duty there. I saw that one has relocated to Jerusalem for now because the siren in her neighborhood wasn't working. One happens to be in the US at the moment. Not that it matters in terms of school-- all schools in range have been closed until further notice. On the second day of school closures a rocket fell directly into a high school classroom. Just take a look at the map above. Israel is a small place. My neighbor from one street over is probably less than two hours away from here, but he's in a war zone.

This semester I'm taking a class called Introduction to Trauma. I felt it was important to learn about trauma if I was going to be working with people in Israel, and it was especially important to learn about it from an Israeli perspective. There are times in class I feel like a complete outsider. I can't relate to being down the street from a bus being blown up or holding my breath until my brother came back from army duty. It almost makes me paranoid of what people I know might be experiencing and how my friends in reserve duty will feel when they are released, or how it effects my many friends just beginning their army service. I wrote something similar after the attack on Mercaz HaRav-- "This is what it feels like to be Israeli."

From my perspective I feel nothing political about the situation. I know that something had to be done about the situation in Sderot and felt very unsure and uneasy about what could be done. I will do as much research as I can before voting in the next prime minister election, but I know that yelling and complaining about anything isn't about to make a difference. I don't want to hear about whether Israel is right or wrong and whether or not it's fair that so many soldiers are risking their lives in Gaza right now. Gilad Shalit has been in Hamas custody for over a thousand days and it's only hit home now that I have friends on the battlefield.

We're all Israelis here. By definition we'll never get tired of yelling and screaming and complaining. But if you want to know what it's like here at the end of the day, we're all just waiting. This won't end tomorrow. I know I'll see more status updates that more friends are being called for reserve duty. So now I'm going to finally force myself to scan through old powerpoints and kick myself to start writing my paper. Later today I'll go babysit for the reporter's children and watch the news there ("Look Daddy! Airplanes!") and tomorrow I'll go to school and sit with both my Jewish and Arab classmates and we'll all be sitting there waiting and thinking how much we hope everyone comes home safely.

"Transitional" "Objects"

2008-12-05T11:49:00.010+02:00

I'm going to digress from my usual bouts of ranting and complaining to talk about something else important in my life. This is not to say that I have nothing to complain about. I am still waiting for my Hebrew University student ID card-- very reminiscent of the ATM card incident that inspired the title of this blog. And I failed my driving test for driving too far on the right when I was positive they would tell me the opposite (considering the tester himself told me to move farther to the right at least once). But that's for another time.

The picture above is of my new cousin Yonatan who is just a few days old. I didn't even know his mom was expecting, so it was a great surprise. I now have nine "little cousins." The moms of these kids are sisters, and they are my cousins. I have always treated the kids like spoiled nieces and nephews. I have also given them what I feel is the most important gift-- a spotty dog of their own. Each one was carefully selected shortly after the kid was born. I usually felt it was important to "meet the dog in person" first, but since I won't be seeing Yonatan for awhile I carefully reviewed several different spotty dogs online and chose this nice one with a red bandanna to be shipped to Boston.

This is my Spotty.

I have had Spotty since I was seven years old. He has survived years of physical abuse from two older siblings and undergone extensive amounts of wear and tear from the many adventures he has been on. Spotty is an avid traveler, used to go bungee jumping off the top of the staircase at home in Newton, and frequently assists me in the kitchen. When I was little, among other things, like threatening to put an orange in him so he would be confiscated at customs on our first trip to Israel, my siblings always taunted me that one day I would grow up and move onto other things. I was told that Spotty was a "transitional" "object." Other terms used for this were "over-personified pillow" and "stuffed piece of cloth." I don't know too many "pieces of cloth" with a social life as active as Spotty always had, whether it was playdates with Gila's Tammy, Leora's Honey Nut, or officiating the wedding between Pauline's Jenna and Spotty the Plain... my special dalmatian always kept very busy.

In an article I was reading for school last week I read about Donald Winnicot. He coined the term "transitional object." You can read about his theories here. I agree with most of what he says, except for the timing of how long a transitional object is needed.

Yup, that's right. Spotty not only came with me to Maryland, he graduated too. And as you can see from the picture above, Spotty made aliyah too. One of the first things my brother said to me when I got off the plane was along the lines of "I can't believe Spotty made aliyah. This is incredible, and he brought Rebecca with him too." Well, aliyah is a transition too. So why shouldn't I have a "transitional object" with me for this too? Lucky for both of us we have a roommate who has Doggie, a perfect friend for Spotty.

I could go on about this for awhile, but if those reading this know me at all then I doubt I really have to. Last Spring I babysat for a little boy who at the time was very attached to his blue shovel. His mom commented that it seemed like his transitional object. I asked her if he had any special stuffed animals. She said no, they hadn't found one they liked yet. I responded that one does not choose a transitional object, the transitional object (I use the word object for lack of a better term) chooses you. When I was at the store buying Spotty I really wanted this cat but for whatever reason my mom said no, and I skeptically selected Spotty instead. I think the cat thing has been made up for in Harriet the Spy, but that's a separate issue.

I don't necessarily think that all the Spotty dogs I got for my cousins will be their transitional objects. Some of the kids are more attached to their dogs than others. Eitan, who is now 5, has another bright yellow dog with colorful spots that he also calls Spotty. When I come to their house (Aharon, Adina, and Eitan) they immediately gather their Spotty dogs to play with mine. In the morning they creep into my room, take Spotty from my bed, and when I go downstairs later I see the dogs congregated around a bunch of cereal bowls on the floor. The kids know to be extra gentle with my Spotty dog. It's really sweet. And it's amazing that if I put out a bunch of my stuffed animals, they're just as excited about picking up Spotty as they are about one of my "newer and shinier" furry friends, such as Jack. Eitan always likes to feed Jack cottage cheese. Not sure why the cottage cheese is significant. Here's a picture of Eitan taking Spotty for a ride on his bike, and a picture of Spotty tucked into a mini-bed at the foot of Eitan's bed.

I wish Yonatan a long and happy life with his new spotty dog. He should stay close to him as long as he needs him for... whether it be to hold during a scary doctors appointment (my Spotty was in the room when I had minor surgery several years ago), to help him during a test (Spotty often accompanied me to final exams), or to tell secrets too (my roommates wonder why they never get to hear anything good). I wrote to Yonatan's mom that I hope he enjoys his spotty dog until Yonatan isn't so little anymore and his spotty dog isn't so white anymore. I'm not around so much to teach him the ropes, but I'm sure the other cousins will help out. I know his older sister Devorah already showed him her spotty that I gave her almost four years ago. Judging from the picture above, I say they're going to do very well together.

Shaarei Tefillah Celebrates 25 Years

2008-11-22T19:39:00.002+02:00

It is no secret that I'm a huge fan of my shul. Tomorrow night there is a dinner to celebrate the shul's 25th anniversary. Last night an old Shaarei couple in Jerusalem had some members over to celebrate from here. Today I enjoyed celebrating the bat mitzvah of twins girls from a former Shaarei family. I had the pleasure of sitting with another family that made aliyah and three girls here for the year. For the dinner journal, members my age were asked to write about their memories of the shul. My year was the first year of "Shaarei babies." I never got confirmation that what I wrote was submitted in time for the journal, but here it is for all of you.
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My first memories of Shaarei Tefillah are of shabbat morning groups in what was probably a storage closet in the church in Newton Centre. There weren't many of us so it really didn't matter to us. Then we moved to Morseland Avenue. I have vague memories of the new shul being under construction while we davenned in the basement. It was close quarters but again it was the perfect size for our still small congregation. Then the new shul was ready. I was four years old and dressed as Curious George for Purim. I don't know if there were no chairs for logistical reasons or if there just weren't chairs yet. The place seemed huge to me. Shabbat morning groups started meeting in the basement. Everyone, grades 1 through 6, davenned together in one room with high school leaders. We each took turns leading the different tefilot. It is hard to believe that now the main shul is full to capacity every week. Many parents of friends I grew up with are now grandparents, my friends are becoming parents, and the many kids I used to babysit for are now babysitters themselves or applying to college.

At Shaarei, like I'm sure any other shul, members always talk about the pride they take in the community's children. I am blessed to say that the children of Shaarei Tefillah take pride in the shul as well. In my Jewish Studies classes in college I would check the syllabus for books by Shaarei members, or would smile to myself as I quoted one in a research paper. A few weeks ago I was visiting a former “Shaarei kid” and her husband in California and we were bemoaning how much we miss the intellectualism we experienced in shul all our lives. We miss the shabbat drashot that connect Medieval biological studies to the week's Torah portion, something from Greek literature to hilchot shabbat, or some other twisted and unexpected series of sources. “Oh, you go to THAT shul in Newton. I know all about THAT one.” said my Jewish Philosophy professor in college.

It's been a privilege growing up with a shul and community that empowers all its members, from the five year old leading anim zmirotˆto the teenager serving as gabbai sheni to the adult members from all different professions getting the chance to give a shiur and face the challenges of the linguists, historians, rabbis, or the surprisingly brilliant (to visitors at least) doctor who happens to know that particular section of Talmud verbatim. But it's always all in good fun.

The kids who grew up in Shaarei Tefillah will be forever benefiting from the environment they experienced in the shul, and those of us who have since left Newton will seek out similar communities to raise our families in. And hey, if we can't find one we'll just have to start our own. It would be in the spirit of Shaarei Tefillah after all.

Grad School, Elections, and other adventures of the past few weeks

2008-11-14T09:30:00.003+02:00

I must start this blog entry, as promised, by mocking another friend's blog. Not that I find anything wrong about the blog. This can be a spoof, if you will.

The other day in my usual half asleep obstacle course that is getting ready for school I was faced with a critical decision. My lighter jeans or darker jeans? As someone who always cares how she's presented to the world, I quickly pulled out my phone and SMSed 50 of my closest friends and asked their opinion. Clearly I should just sign up for Twitter so frequent issues like this can be handled more easily. No, I did not care what else they could be doing at 7am. This was important. I got a response right away. It was the first cousin of the cashier I met while buying a train ticket in the US. It's not important why we're in touch with each other. He wrote darker jeans, so I did. Fifteen minutes later I was on the bus to school. The first person I saw on the bus got very excited when she saw me and said "You wear jeans? I love jeans! You should join me on this exciting project that has to do with clicky pencils. See, there's a business opportunity at every turn. You just have to be prepared, and social networking can make all the difference.

Okay, now that I've written a ridiculous story of which not one bit of it is true (though I did wear jeans to school the other day) just to make a point (I think), on to more important things...

School has begun! And it did so on time! Thanks to a bunch of politicians getting together and making useful negotiations, the universities in this country received enough funds to open their doors. I was relatively optimistic that it would work out, but considering my general optimism has been severely reduced since I moved here I was prepared for the worst. So on November 3rd, I began graduate school at Hebrew University.

So far so good. I can understand my professors for the most part, and I'm learning a lot of transliterated words that sound pretty ridiculous ("flashbackim" being one of my favorites). I'm just not sure Americans can pull off saying these words in an Israeli accent. I try to write as much down as I can. Not that I'm being told anything I haven't heard before. However since my entire grade relies on one paper or test at the end of the semester, I suppose I should keep track of what we talk about. I write my notes in a mix of Hebrew and English. If I can get the Hebrew words down on paper, I do. Or even if I just catch a phrase. Really my challenge is to pick up on the terminology in Hebrew. Though since it's mostly transliterated words, I just have to figure out how to spell them! My notes are an interesting mix of Hebrew and English. In every class there's someone sitting nearby staring over my shoulder. It's both amusing and annoying. Yeah, I know English, so instead of staring maybe cut a deal with me that you'll explain the terminology and I'll try to explain the reading. That's right-- almost all the reading is in English. I tried reading some of the Hebrew stuff... one article with more success than the other. For every class when my classmates spent up to ten minutes bemoaning the fact that they would have to read so much in English I sat back and celebrating the one thing that wouldn't be a challenge for me.

Who are my classmates? In my particular program it's all married women who have kids or are about to. And there's one guy. Still don't know his story because he kindly keeps quiet. There's a mix of religious and non-religious women, but I only know of one or two others that is not married. Makes sense given the nature of the program, but it definitely adds to my feeling of being the minority. Not that I suddenly wish that at age 24 I was married with kids and felt a desperate need to bring them up as examples for every situation. Or maybe they're talking about their own kids. They speak so quickly I have no idea. I'm just dreading the day my teacher turns to me and says "You've been quiet, what do you think?" While I've considered telling all my teachers right out that Hebrew isn't my first language, I'm trying to let them know in more subtle ways. Because I am in the administration track of my program I am in a few classes with a greater variety of students. Variety meaning there are multiple guys, but also women who may be married but do things outside the education field (like working for non-profit organizations). While the material of those classes is less than thrilling, it's more interesting to sit through. I am taking a class called Introduction to Trauma which in theory will be counted towards my program. My classmates are all involved in superly cool things like working in prisons and shelters and runaway homes and clinics. Maybe one of them can get me a job one day, or at least introduce me to other cool people.

I have had two weeks of school. The first week I tried to blend in. I wore what I thought were nondescript clothes. The second week I wanted to be very obviously American so I wore my UMD sweatpants. It's just interesting what makes me so... I guess WEIRD to the people I meet. "What's your first degree in?" "History" "What?" "History" "So what are you doing here?" "Learning to work with young children" "That's a dramatic change in fields." Unfortunately Israelis don't really get the concept of a liberal arts education. I can involve myself in the education field AND educate myself in worldy issues. Crazy, I know. The History geek in me is bigger than I thought. I'll get to that in a second. My other experience was with my homework partner for statistics class. Oh statistics... I told my sister (who just got a PhD in the field) that maybe statistics is more interesting in English, and she said she always assumed it was more interesting in Chinese. Anyway, my partner is a Russian immigrant who made aliyah as a kid. I met her on my first day and ran into her on my second day. She invited me to hang out with her on the grass and offered me a candy bar. This made me happy for lots of reasons. I'm interested in how my social integration into an Israeli school will work out. She asked me how I knew Hebrew, and I said I was taught it since I was 3. She assumed I had Israeli parents or something and I said no, I went to a religious school. She looked down. "But you're wearing pants, you're religious?" I responded that I don't like skirts. She looked confused. "I don't see religious girls who wear pants." Throughout the conversation she occasionally came back to this point. I told her about when I started UMD and was thinking that if people were really going to label me as non-religious that maybe I would decide to always wear skirts. Of course this didn't happen, for so many reasons, and I guess going to minyan every day was a fair indicator that I'm serious about what I do. I just wonder how my other classmates react if they knew that this crazy American with a BA in History who's trying to do an MA in Social Work in Hebrew just one year after arriving in the country is also religious but wears pants. So they think I'm strange. I think they're all really strange too. I told my roommates that I feel like the real Harriet the Spy (from the books) sometimes in class when I don't get what's going on so instead I look around and jump to fun and interesting conclusions about the lives of everyone there.

Me as the History geek. Deep down inside a part of me just wants to go onto an MA in History and somehow come up with the stamina and intellectual whatever to delve into research and teaching for the rest of my life. Really can't see that happening, but in the meantime I am already missing what I switched majors for at UMD. One of my classes is called "Leadership in Education." The professor said that most of the material is History-related and that we will be taking what we learn and applying it to being leaders in education. My face lit up. History, yay! Humanities! I also started reading Barbara Tuchman's "Practicing History" in between classes. I finished the novel I was reading the first week. My mom was always trying to get me to read this book so obviously I didn't for awhile. Then I found it in the house in September and opened it up. It's awesome, highly recommended. It increases the number of weird looks I get, but gives me an important fix. I also wandered through the History section of the campus library. I could have done something practical like check out what Education and Social Work materials they have, but I couldn't resist. Maybe one day in like forty years I can be one of those old people taking history courses at a nearby university.

Elections. I don't know much about politics, but I am truly amazed at my friends' reactions towards Obama's victory in the US. Never saw much hope and enthusiasm among my peers like that. Here in Jerusalem we're also experiencing an exciting period of political change. Nir Barkat, a secular businessman, is going to be the next major of Jerusalem. His victory depended as much as his own supports coming out to vote as it did on the ultra orthodox staying home and not voting for his opponent (who posed a striking resemblance to Santa Claus). Jerusalem is a mess and a lot has to do with too much attention being given to some things and not enough attention to others. Nir Barkat's term will be five years. While I hope that by the end of the term I have been out of Jerusalem for awhile, what he accomplishes in this city is very important to me. Whether it be creating more affordable housing or fixing cracks in the sidewalks. It is so important for Jerusalem to live up to its potential.

And last but not least, though there are probably so many anecdotes I have to share that I can't remember at the moment... Speaking of Jerusalem, I've been doing a lot of reading about it. In Tanach that is. Probably in about an hour or so I will be reading the last chapter of Malachi thereby completing all of Neviim. About a year ago I set out to complete the Nach Yomi project, learning one chapter of Neviim/Ketuvim every day until I complete it. Most of the time it turned into seven chapters every shabbat, but for the most part I kept up. Many things inspired me to do this. Tanach is where it all begins. It's our first account of Jewish history. Last week we read Parashat Lech Lecha in which Avraham leaves his home and family to come to Israel (clearly something I could relate to this year-- more than ever). I'll probably write another blog post about this after shabbat because I think it's deserving of it's own space, but I am excited to share this accomplishment with everyone. Tomorrow I will start Tehilim, and in a year or so I will have finished Ketuvim as well. When I was at HaRova for the year I read through the Chumash, so when I finish Ketuvim I will have read every single word of the Tanach. As I said the rest of my thoughts will be in a future blog post. I didn't even get to write about celebrating various friends going into the army. Some are friends I grew up with, others are ones I met here. I'm so proud of all of them. But shabbat is creeping up on me, and I have to get to Raphi's house!

It was simpler when there were just snow days

2008-10-29T10:44:00.002+02:00

A lot of people have asked me about the upcoming school year in general, and about my program in particular, so here it goes...

I thought I was in good shape when I applied for a school year after two years of strikes, one led by the students and the other led by tenured professors. This year the associate professors were threatening to strike, but I wasn't so worried about that effecting me. What the university students of Israel are currently faced with is far worth than any of those things.

A couple weeks ago a letter was sent out to the students (well, some students, apparently I'm not important enough) saying that due to issues with the Ministry of Finance the universities are not getting enough money, and are collectively refusing to open this year. Negotiations are currently underway. Classes are due to start in a week. A week after that, if no settlement has been reached, the universities are shutting their doors.

I can't imagine that happening. Then again, this country hasn't been known to take education seriously. Last year while university students waited for their professors to come back to work thousands of high school students in Jerusalem wandered around aimlessly waiting for their teachers to end their strike. As someone going into education, I try to let it inspire me to fight for change, but sometimes it can be downright discouraging. It's hard to do much when the program to qualify me can't even start. What's a country without its flagship universities? When the announcement was first made I started saying that it was destroying my Zionism. Maybe that's a bit harsh, but it will be hard being proud of a country that lets its universities close their doors. I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, I now have a better sense of what my program is, what I will enjoy about it, and the problems I have already had. Within the School of Social Work and Social Welfare there is a group of programs named of this guy Joseph Schwartz. I am in the Graduate Program for Early Childhood Studies. There is also one about non-profit organizations and a new program specializing in philanthropy. The general goal is to focus on the specific issues within these fields. My program combines classes from the School of Social Work and the School of Education.

Within my program, there are two tracks. It took me months to understand the differences between them. Even when I understood the words in the titles it wasn't clear, and no one seemed able to give me a clear answer. Here's the scoop: one focuses n development and one on administration. I am in the administration track. There are 9 people in my track and 20 in the other. Apparently there are people in my track who wanted to be in the other but even with the increased enrollment, they couldn't accommodate everyone. With just 9 people I wonder how many actually want to be there. I wish I was in the development track, though it might be my fault I'm not. I have a vague memory of which box I checked off on the application, but since I didn't hear anything since then I didn't think I was actually in a specific track. When I started the arduous task of signing up for classes, I saw some specified for each tracks but thought maybe this was something that happened in the second year. Then I got the news that I was in the administration track, and it should have been written on the acceptance letter I got months ago. However my letter came from the Department of Overseas Students and not directly from my program which writes in the track. So I had no idea.

Briefly, the development track trains students to work one on one as advisors to people working directly with young children. The administration one focuses on general, well, administration of organizations serving young children. I'm not what to think of, for lack of a better term, this mix up. My only concern is it seems like the other group gets more fieldwork, and one reason I chose the program was for it's combination of classtime and fieldwork. On the other hand, this means I can create my own fieldwork experiences. It even seems like I can get support from my professors if I sort of create my own project.

I'm strangely optimistic about my situation with the program. In either track I would enjoy some classes and detest others. And administration classes could be really useful for me considering I am terribly unqualified at many of the things they will in theory teach me. And as my brother put it, it could make me more marketable. I'm not worried that I will be denied a job because of which track of the program I was in.

In either case, school has to start for any of this to happen. I'm hopeful, but not holding my breath. As the title says, it was simpler when there were just snow days.

And I complain I have no friends in this country...

2008-10-24T09:45:00.003+02:00

Yesterday afternoon I decided I was in desperate need of a nap. Harriet the Spy had woken me up every hour on the hour the night before, and I spent the morning at three playgrounds with an active 1 year old who enjoyed diving head first off of everything. I knew it would be a short nap because I was anxiously awaiting the return of my two roommates, due in throughout the following couple hours.

My phone rang. The caller ID read "Fischers." I thought "Cool, maybe the Fischers are inviting me for shabbat or to come over for a playdate." I answered the phone and heard a little voice say "Hi Rebecca!" It was Ruchama Fischer. She is seven years old. Actually maybe "little voice" isn't really a good description for a kid like Ruchama. Try "teenager with an attitude stuck in a little girl's body" kind of voice. We exchanged pleasantries and I waited for her to say something like "here's my mom," assuming that her mom wanted to call me but she asked to dial the number. I guessed incorrectly.

For the next 20 minutes or so Ruchama and I caught up on the last few weeks of our lives. We talked about our trips to the US, people we both know, and how we feel about brothers. After the 20 minutes I felt I had exhausted my list of things to discuss with a second grader, though it was obvious that she could have gone on forever.

Ruchama is a great kid, and a good sport especially when it comes to her little brothers. She knows that her four year old brother Raphi is my bestest friend, and is usually patient about sharing my time with him when I come to visit. In College Park when I would stop by she would answer the door and say "One second, I'll get Raphi." This was when Ruchama was 5 and Raphi was not even 2.

I guess she just needed someone to talk to, someone to listen to her complain about the stressful life of a seven year old. My favorite line was "I hate my brothers. I want a sister. All they do is beat me up, but I know Karate and they don't!"

Eventually I politely told her that I had to go, and we agreed that I will come for a shabbat as soon as I can. The phonecall totally made my day. There is no other way to say it.

"A friend in every port"

2008-10-14T20:54:00.003+02:00

This phrase was said to me repeatedly throughout my trip to the US and the couple of weeks following it. It clearly started with my mom but has extended to siblings, friends, and even parents of friends. Okay, it's true, to some extent. I visited five major cities on my trip and had friends to see everywhere I went. In LA I had the luxury of leisurely meals to catch up and in Maryland it was a crazy series of 5-30 minute blocks of time... and I treasured every minute of them.

So I said to my brother, it's interesting that our grandmother keeps asking me whether our sister is making friends in her new home in DC when she never once expressed the same interest about my life in Israel. "You have a friend in every port. They never worry." Right. My sister is just as industrious as I am in situations like this. Before her move she contacted everyone she knew in DC, including good friends or nice people she met once and figured she'd wind up becoming better friends with upon arrival in DC. Or maybe they would know the kind of people she could be friends with. Whichever. While it's tough to start out anywhere, I am not about to worry. Besides, she gets to hang out with all of my best friends from college-- can't be that bad :-). (Hey, if I have to hang out with 30-year-olds she should have to hang out with 24-year-olds. It's only fair.)

I've written a lot about the challenge of making new friends and holding onto old friends. And I say that I feel a little guilty saying to a new friend in Israel who asks if I had fun in the US, "Well sure, I have so many friends there." "And what's it like being back?" Um, yeah.

It bothers me that I'm not as hopelessly optimistic as I used to be. And it's really too bad that so few people here realize that change. I returned to Israel thinking that okay, I was going to be alone in the apartment for three weeks so that already can't be fun, a lot of people are away, and in general it's going to be tough reconnecting with people. I didn't used to worry about such "trivial" things.

This past week has been so much fun. Not necessarily the hours spent filling garbage bags with clutter and unrecognizable food remains from the fridge. And thanks to a terribly anxious and upset cat I haven't had a good night's sleep since I returned. But besides that... There's been smoothie making, a lunchtime visit, a bar outing, catch playing, shabbat and yom tov meals, movie watching, and getting kicked out of a playground by the cops. There was also a quick playdate with Ben Zion who, though he hasn't seen me in awhile, had his face glued to his third floor window facing Keren HaYesod waiting for me to arrive. He had tears in his eyes when it was time for me to leave. Strangely most of those events (not the playdate) happened after 10pm. But all the better. I would spend a day moping around the apartment getting things done, be all ready to try to fall asleep, and suddenly I'd be wandering down Emek Refaim.

"You mean... you realize you have friends?" half-taunted a friend who just left my apartment. Well, YEAH. But I knew that. It's just the happy feeling that amidst my roommate-less loneliness and anxiety leading up to a grad school program that due to another strike might not start on time, I'm having a good time.

Am I happy? To be continued at the next 1am playground outing. Don't you hate when other people might be right? You just want to kick them. Or hug them. Whatever.

Except when they aren't right. Is there really a formula for why someone is your friend and how someone remains your friend? Can I scientifically look at the friends I made in the past twenty four years and figure out how and why in another twenty four years I'll be as close to them as I am now? It's not like I keep their business cards in my wallet. They aren't even all on facebook.

My whirlwind trips around the US are like a rollercoaster. It's a thrill ride. Every moment is exciting. I never know who I'll run into or what incredible conversation I'll have. The wild twists and turns can also be scary and gut wrenching. It's tough saying goodbye, and realizing that I have absolutely no idea when I'll see the person next. But rollercoasters are still fun. You keep going and going until it makes you sick. It's just a wonderful kind of sick. Does that metaphor work? I love the running around, even when it makes me sad. And will I go back to College Park after all my friends have graduated? For sure! Do you have any idea how soft the grass on the mall is? I could sit there all day.

I have this conversation all the time with people here about friendships. And I've realized that everyone had a different past when it comes to friends. Not everyone has a friend who lived down the street who they played with every single shabbat afternoon their entire life and after being away for six months can within seconds renew the same friendship. Not everyone has groups of friends who came over multiple times a week in college for movie nights, or piled into a living room for the newest episode of the OC. The basis of a friendship has nothing to do with how long it's going to last. Things happen. And it happens differently for each person.

So time to ditch that conversation and look ahead when I find myself in a park at 1am... whether it be with a new friend here in Israel or an old one at a park in the US. I'll happily enjoy the moment wherever it is. And it's all about what's going to make me happy...

Hi from downtown Silver Spring

2008-09-21T21:01:00.002+03:00

... where I'm sitting on the ground by a random office building stealing some random company/person's wireless, and losing feeling in various parts of my body. But at least the weather is great. I feel like a homeless person, except I don't know of too many homeless people who sit around on an iBook. Anyway, I am here because I'm meeting up with a couple friends soon. Then I'm going to Kemp Mill to meet up with another friend and I'll go with her on a tour of Kemp Mill to see various friends including two who have a newborn baby. Aw. Can't wait. And then... going to College Park! I'm throwing myself a party there. How else am I going to see everyone is such a short period of time? I'm excited.

This morning I said bye to my sister, met two friends in Dupont Circle for doughnuts, then met one of my best childhood friends for an early lunch. She told me that she accidentally mentioned my blog to my mom once so... Hi Ema, are you reading this? Just curious.

She also told me which entry is one of her favorites, and I just reread it while waiting here ("I am Here," May 2008) and got all teary eyed. It was an interesting experience reflecting on it from here in the US.

I was just starting to actually miss Israel. I considered this a huge accomplishment. I was even starting to look forward to going back. Then I came down to DC and realized how many people I wanted to see in such a short amount of time, and how much it sucks that I'm practically allotting thirty minute slots for each of my friends (and some have to double up). Not nearly enough time to catch up, share my adventures, and hear about theirs as well. I am generally flexible, and willing to shlep all over, but there are sleeping schedules and work schedules and homework and, most importantly, of course, accommodating my friend who goes to a bar to watch the football game. I wish there were hours in a day. I wish there wasn't an ocean between me and everyone else I know. If only the East Coast of the US was 5500 miles closer... and hey, that would put Chicago and LA where other friends live not that far away as well.

Tomorrow I will hopefully see Lisa in Boston, and the following week I will see Alissa is Boston, and before I know it I will be back in Jerusalem curled up with Harriet the Spy. I will start thinking about when my next trip to the US will be. It will probably be shorter and I'll once again feel stressed about drifting away from everything and everybody. Seeing this friend at lunch today was almost a relief, as I will get to see her again briefly over Rosh Hashanah.

I decided it's possible to question one's decisions without it leading towards regret. I still never regret my decision to make aliyah. I look forward to returning, starting graduate school, and being reunited with my friends there. I'm still leaving bits of myself in different places... Boston, Philadelphia, College Park... everywhere that's important to me. I'll be visiting College Park long after everyone I know there has graduated.

I don't expect to write anything until after I get back, so I wish each and everyone of you... in Israel and all over the US, or the total strangers who come across my blog, and Healthy and Happy New Year full of new and successful beginnings, choices, and just simple day to day victories.

Teaching Gino and Ken how to cook kosher chicken on an Amtrak train

2008-09-03T09:14:00.002+03:00

This morning I left my host's apartment in San Francisco and held my breath while walking down the street because it smelled like urine. Did I mention that last night I was offered drugs? At least a woman asked me if I "wanted any" and while "any" can mean lots of different things I'm going to guess from the other activity on the street that she was trying to sell me drugs.

Michael gave me a ride to San Jose for my ten hour train ride to Los Angeles. Every inch of the trip was beautiful. It's amazing how many people live in the middle of nowhere. Then suddenly we'd come to a place with like a hundred houses and there would be a train stop. The first half of the trip was all brown and green and the second half was along the gorgeous Pacific Ocean. It was fun being waved to by people on the beach.

The craziest part of this trip was my kosher food. I was really excited to get meals on the train because I hadn't eaten any real food for like forty eight hours. Besides the not-so-convenient availability of food and being slightly jetlagged in that my body didn't know when it needed food, I had been surviving on junk food and ice cream for two days. The banana split at Ghirardelli's had fruit-- that counts for something, right? Suddenly my body was like "hey, I need protein."

First I spoke to Ken. He was in charge of food arrangements. He told me that Gino, the guy who worked in my car, could bring the meal straight to my seat. Gino said he had to talk to Ken. Together they discovered that my food was being loaded onto the train at Santa Barbara, another hour away. This was after several hours of waiting and extreme hunger. Finally we arrived in Santa Barbara. Ken and Gino came to my seat with nervous smiles on their faces. Apparently the food that was delivered was raw kosher chicken. Great. So I carefully explained to Ken that my chicken could be double-wrapped and heated in the oven. They were so apologetic and didn't even charge me for the meal. It was cute because they also double wrapped the bowl of salad they brought me. Finally around 7 I got dinner. Mmmm protein. A random homeless lady at Union Station in LA got the rest of the chicken. Beats the drugs which seemed to make up most of what she was consuming.

Now I'm at my friend's house in LA. I hadn't seen her in like five years, so it's pretty awesome. Any suggestions of what to do tomorrow?

Travel log take 1

2008-08-29T05:32:00.003+03:00

I suppose the next five weeks of my life do not directly connect to my aliyah experience, but seeing that I am visiting so many places and doing so many things I can't help but report on them. And besides, I am on a plane three hours from Chicago and, get this, there aren't individual TV screens. That's right-- in the course of a just over ten hour flight they showed two movies on public screens, neither of which I had any interest in seeing, and then that's it. Luckily the plane is practically empty and I have three seats to myself. Thanks to three pillows and two blankets I managed to get a little rest (thanks to pulling an allnighter last night... though I'm not entirely convinced it will help with the jetlag).

To back up a bit, I have learned some lessons about international travel. I used to fly all the time. Baltimore-Washington International Airport was like a second home, especially that time I got stuck there for eleven hours. I flew in and out of there at least a dozen times a year. I could time exactly when to get there keeping in mind bus times, walking to the terminal times, and security lines. I had it down perfectly. Except for the one time I messed up and got stuck for eleven hours. I thought by now I had Ben Gurion figured out pretty well too. Lines are long, Israelis are crazy, but hey, I've done this so many times before, right?

Wrong. Apparently nearly all the flights to Europe leave between 5 and 7am. And apparently Thursday is the most popular day to fly. Or maybe it was just today. But school is starting next week so where are people going? Needless to say the airport was a mess this morning. The first phase of security/check-in went okay, but then I was in line for the counter for over an hour. I got into this line at 4am. My flight was at 6:05am. You do the math. Thank goodness for those extra five minutes. And as if you can even call what I was standing in a line. It was mayhem. There was lots of yelling. There was a group of Ya Ya Sisterhood type women in front of me and they were happy to report to each other that most of the yelling and fighting was coming from French people and not “our own” as they said it. Finally at maybe 5:25 I arrived at the front of the line. Should be straight forward at this point, right? Wrong again. A year in Israel has taught me that nothing is straight forward. The clerk was confused about my teudat maavar (temporary passport-- I am not yet eligible for a real one). So she had to call up some supervisor and ask him about it. The clock was ticking. She told me to run. Duh. No McCafe fries for me this trip.

I ran. Then came passport control. Hurray, I'm an Israeli citizen, maybe my line will be shorter! The lines were all about the same length and pace. But then... I was two away from the front of the line when, excuse my language, wtf!? The sign above the booth switched from “Israeli Passports” to “Foreign Passports” which is apparently what it was supposed to be. Grr. Switched lines, more running. I know it was around 5:45 when I was in that line and I had to be boarded by 5:50. I made it. I squished down into my typical El Al plane middle seat and was so exhausted and stressed out that it took me ten minutes to notice some check-in sticker that got stuck to my leg. It was a short flight to Rome. I think I slept for most of it. I honestly don't even know how long the flight was. I think it was supposed to be four hours, but maybe it was three. This led me into another problem. I arrived in Rome and had NO idea what time it was. And there weren't any clocks ANYWHERE.

I do not recommend flying through the Rome airport. I think I don't recommend flying through a country where English isn't the main language, but there were enough Israelis and Americans around with the same looks and exclamations of utter confusion that we all figured out where to go. Or at least wound up in the wrong place. The airport is a series of random monorails and unclear instructions on where to go. My flight to Chicago was at 10:55, but the departure board was only listing flights up until 10:50. Great. Finally found security, made it through, then had to take a second monorail that I think went back where I came from. Once there it was completely unclear where to check in again. All the other airlines had semi-clearly marked counters but not American Airlines. And again, I had no idea what time it was and how long I had until my flight. So I stalked the gate, which I by then found the location of, and eventually I noticed a small line forming in front of an unmarked screen but there was someone behind the counter doing something that looked useful. Finally checked in and found out that I had about fifteen minutes until boarding time. Phew.

You can imagine the look of horror on my face when I discovered the lack of individual screens on the plane. We're so spoiled these days. But I have my three seats three pillows and two blankets and the food and service have been decent. About two and a half hours to go until I land in Chicago. Once there I have to figure out how to get where I need to go. That will be fun. Thus my adventure begins...

(This post was finally posted to the blog at 9:30pm Chicago time after an eventful trip to the North Side with my taxi driver who didn't speak English which didn't help with the unclear directions. But a Ken's Diner dinner later and lots of catching up later all is well!)

Cousins!

2008-08-27T15:14:00.002+03:00

Last night was my cousin Chava Levine's wedding. Chava's dad and my dad are first cousins, and there are a slew of second cousins that I barely know, have only met once, or haven't met at all. Last night was a real treat. One cousin tapped me on the shoulder because she recognized me from FOURTEEN YEARS AGO. Okay, and she saw me on facebook, but still. It's really great having so many cousins around my age and I hope to get to know more of them better.

Look at me! Over here!

2008-08-25T20:48:00.004+03:00

In light of hearing about the NBN Bloggers Convention and general blog talk I was wondering who reads my blog and how often. Still tinkering with the stalker software for that one, but I was able to find two blogs that mention mine. My blog comes up in two very different contexts. In one blog, as part of a post about the Mercaz HaRav attack, my post about the tragic event is mentioned as being moving. Definitely a compliment, though I wish it came under better circumstances. The other is from a blog that seems to have just been started by someone planning on making aliyah next summer. I am unsure of whether she is using my blog for humor or inspiration. Or both. Again, not sure how healthy it would be to be inspired by my blog but I chuckle at the thought.

My roommate mentioned that many participants in the Bloggers Convention were invited because they often mention Nefesh B'Nefesh in their blogs. I don't think it comes up too often in mine. Many of the events I talk about are sponsored by Nefesh B'Nefesh, but I wouldn't want anyone to think that the organization should be held responsible for my social "misfortunes" and other Katamon scene adventures (good and bad... don't think it's all bad).

So besides now mentioning Nefesh B'Nefesh and in particular the Bloggers Convention a couple times, which are apparently commonly searched topics, here's another thing that might grab me a few hits. WWW.FRUMSATIRE.NET The author of this blog, the infamous Heshy, is currently visiting Israel. I say infamous though supposedly most people don't know this real name. I guess not everyone has a roommate that a shadchan tried to set him up with. Well, at least the guys who for the most part have male roommates will not know Heshy through this type of fame. Anyhow, after finding out that Heshy came along with someone to my aliyah anniversary barbecue last week and connecting the dots in my head about who he was (though we didn't speak at all and he probably was not even aware that I was one of the hostesses) I went to his premier stand-up comedy act at the Off the Wall Comedy Club in town. I had a lovely time and was consistently amused, especially about things like stories of his "shidduch phonecalls" of which I had the joy of hearing a girl's side of one.

Lisa and I smiled proudly when our barbecue got a shout out in the act. Apparently Heshy thought Katamon people were nice people and had a good time (we apologize for the lack of condiments). Glad that we were less scary than the Nachlaot crowd, but they're a different species altogether. I had read FrumSatire in the past... well really just when I was stalking Heshy to figure out this potential shidduch situation... and looking at it now it's funny how similar my blog is sometimes. His is more about New York singles life; mine is about Katamon. And wow, I should read it more often. Makes Katamon seem not nearly as scary.

Okay, now I want people who came across this post who haven't seen my blog before to leave a comment telling me how they got here. Come on, just for kicks.

One Year Aliyah Anniversary

2008-08-22T13:19:00.004+03:00

I can't let this occasion pass without posting a blog entry. And what I felt about my one year aliyah anniversary when I anticipated it a couple months ago is the same that I feel now. I have no big insights to share. The same things are stressing me out and many challenges have yet to be overcome. I am also grateful for the same things things-- feeling at home here, making new friends. Last night my roommates and I, along with Lily who was also on my flight (and her puppy Leo, but he just provided entertainment) hosted a barbecue at the park outside my apartment. Well over 100 people were invited and despite several other events last night (and the fact that I invited some US friends just for fun) a good chunk of those people came. And they brought lots of stuff. I really felt that people came because they wanted to celebrate with us.

I've had my usual sour responses when people have made comments like "Hope next year is as great as the first" or "So I guess in the end things really worked out." I stand by my comment that this year sucked. There was really nothing that could save it from being positively stressful and traumatic. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe it was harder than I thought it would be, but it was part of the process and I was able to accept that along the way. Things went really well for me. I gradually built up a clientele of families for babysitting, I got accepted to a small supposedly competitive program at Hebrew U, and yes- I definitely made plenty of friends. As cynical as I get those things will never be overlooked by me.

Next week I'm leaving for a five week trip to the US. I am starting off in Chicago to celebrate my sister getting her PhD. Next I'm off to San Francisco for about 36 hours and visiting a good friend in Santa Clara. Then it's an 11 hour train ride along the coast to Los Angeles. There I will visit a friend from Newton, friends from college, and one of the cutest kids I ever babysat for who was in Israel this past year. Hopefully one of those days I'll visit another friend in San Diego so I can go to the zoo. Only then will I be flying into Boston to spend more time with my parents, grandma, friends, and neighbors. Doesn't end there-- a week later I'm taking a train to Philadelphia to see my other grandma and of course, going down to Maryland and DC for a Friday adventure with Shira, shabbat with my sister in her new home, and hopefully lots of ridiculous fun in College Park.

I can't believe a year has gone by. I remember receiving confirmation of my flight day and then teaching a lesson about aliyah to my Hebrew school students 100 days before my take-off date. I remember landing in Ben Gurion with Lisa to throngs of flag-waving family, friends, and total strangers. The next day I opened the bank account I still have serious issues with and after that set up the medical insurance account I have taken advantage of way too frequently this year. I'll never forgot my first Nefesh B'Nefesh event where I hardly knew anyone and was totally freaked out by the scene. I am still freaked out, but now the people who freak me out are good friends, so it's all okay. Ha, I can think of so many people who will manage to be offended by that.

I've said that the success of my social life here will be determined by how much I miss people when I'm away in the US. In college there were always fun anecdotes to share. Now I realize my parents don't even really know the names of anyone here. I hope that changes soon. Really I know it will. Well, hopefully they won't know about everything... But anyway, in April I was anxious to get back. This time I'm just excited about my California adventure. Maybe it would have been different if I did something like this in April, I don't know. But when I'm staying in a random youth hostel in San Francisco talking to total strangers I know it's the friends here I'll probably be talking about. Anyway, they're really such fascinating creatures.

I guess I won't say "I hope for many years as good as this one" but I can say that I am truly looking forward to this next year and the rest of my life home in Israel.

9 Av 5768

2008-08-10T16:39:00.002+03:00

Last year I had a lot of trouble "getting in the spirit of Tisha B'Av." I was about three weeks shy of making aliyah and was caught up in the wonders of "v'shavu banim" and "reishit smichat geuloteinu." I was thinking about it these past couple of days leading up to Tisha B'Av this year and I realized something that seemed a bit silly at first. As much as Bnei Akiva and Camp Moshava brainwashed me into making aliyah, they also did a sort of "Tisha B'Av brainwashing."

For the first five Tisha B'Av days for which I was old enough to at least semi-grasp the significance of the day (ages 10-14) I was on a Jewish program, the first four years being my summers at Moshava. For the weeks leading up to Tisha B'Av all we would hear about is senseless hatred and the other horrible sins that led to the destructions of both Temples, the trauma of losing the Temples, and all the terrible things that followed. At the same time they would work in the words "make aliyah" to everything from dancing on shabbat to art projects to long hikes. Don't ask me how they did it, but they did, and apparently it worked.

So for four summers I got these mixed messages: Everything was destroyed and it hasn't been the same since and we enact this suffering by eating eggs dipped in ashes (no one seems to do this in Newton, MA) and sitting on upside down benches for davenning. However despite these feelings of lost, we need to sing and dance and shout "make aliyah!" over and over because redemption is coming and each and every one of us is going to join the Jewish people in Israel, right now, or the second camp is over, or after graduating from college when you realize that even ten years later the brainwashing has still stuck. (The first letter of my Nefesh B'Nefesh essay? "I've been brainwashed.")

I guess it is no surprise then that once again this year, now that I am coming up on a year since aliyah, I feel the same challenge of feeling depressed on this day when every other day I work so hard to see the beauty and accomplishments of this country. I joked to my roommate that for the nine days what I really should avoid instead of the usual lashon hara (as was instructed to me at camp) was saying anything bad about Israel. The spies did it and didn't do any good for them, but it's just... so hard! There is so much to complain about! And on the other hand, I feel that there is so much to celebrate about the country in general and my life here. It's still like that first post-Jewish program Tisha B'Av when midday, as the hunger set in, I thought to myself, "Okay, so now what?" I still have about three more hours of the fast so maybe I will achieve some sort of understanding for what's missing here. It amazes me every year how, for lack of a better word, helpful the kinot are generations after they were written.

One more thing that's on my mind last week... August 6th/ 14 Av mark ten years since my Papa Harold passed away. He died while I was away for my final summer of Moshava. Those of you who have known me for awhile know that that event positively turned my life upside down and nothing as been the same since. It is hard to think about everything that has happened between that summer (the final summer of Bnei Akiva brainwashing) and this summer, my first as an Israeli citizen. My grandfather was a quiet person. He loyally picked me and my siblings up from school every Friday and attended every school play and Karate presentation. They were usually followed by a smile and quick hug and kiss. Words weren't necessary. He was always quietly rooting for me. Every summer I would leave camp with it set in my mind that I would one day make aliyah. I'm sure I shared these thoughts with Papa Harold at some point and he probably smiled quietly and offered to make me chocolate milk. Silly brainwashing.

So many things I should have never seen at the Jerusalem pool

2008-08-03T21:41:00.004+03:00

As part of my snazzy summer job babysitting for a 4 year old girl whose family was here for the summer I got to spend several mornings at the Jerusalem pool on Emek Refaim. I always knew this pool existed, but until I saw it, I never imagined how huge and nice it could be. The facilities are amazingly clean, there is a nice grassy area, and plenty of comfortable plastic lounge chairs. Especially considering the entry fee, it is the closest Jerusalem might ever get to a country club. There were, however, many horribly disconcerning things I witnessed throughout the past five weeks ranging from pool safety (or lack there of), poor parenting, and... well, you'll see. Or lucky for you you will not have to see, just read.

1) The lifeguards are generally not anywhere near where the kids are playing. They are either chatting with their friends, smoking, eating popsicles, or yelling totally inaudible instructions into a megaphone.
2) Parents don't seem to actually care about their children's safety.
3) There should not be smoking at a pool like this. Ever. Especially next to the toddler pool.
4) I understand people interpret bathing suit fashions differently but bikinis should not be made for anyone too young to fill them out and those who fill them out a bit too much should perhaps make a different choice.
5) Guys have it easy. It's like buying a pair of shorts. So why did so many guys have bathing suits barely staying on their hips?
6) You do not have to wear underwear or boxers under a bathing suit. It sort of defeats the purpose. I'm just confused.
7) Okay, maybe it was a bit funny watching the teenage girls try to figure out how low down they could wear their bathing suits though not so practical to make these adjustments while on their way to riding down the waterslide.
8) What was the parent thinking while waching their child pull down his bathing suit and urinate directly into the pool? Thank goodness for chlorine.
9) The changing room reminded me of my first experience in the Filene's Basement fitting room... but it was so much worse. I just don't understand how anyone can feel comfortable wandering around naked like that. Didn't they go to sleep away camp and learn all the tricks?
10) An old man changed out of his bathing suit right next to the pool. Yes, that's right, he wasn't even in a changing room. Just right there by the pool, in front of everyone. I don't get it.

I'm so grateful that I was with such a well-behaved four year old girl who spent hours streaking naked through her apartment but at the pool usually chose a changing room or bathroom stall to get in and out of her bathing suit (and made very audible comments about all the naked old ladies).

Btw, I would have taken a picture but hate to think what I would have caught in the background.

In other news, there's a group of guys on my street singing very loudly. Considering it's Av I can't imagine what it's all about but... oh Jerusalem, gotta love it.

banks

2008-07-29T08:20:00.002+03:00

My friend Mia made aliyah this week. It was incredibly exciting for so many reasons... having a good friend in the country, getting to pinch Mia's cheeks. But what really made me happy was when she changed her facebook status to "Mia hates banks." Oh, new olim and the challenges they will encounter!

a dialogue on the Katamon social scene and life in general

2008-07-12T22:36:00.003+03:00

This post is back after a brief hiatus. I'll deal with the consequences :-)

The other person's screenname has been changed for their protection and to, as I put it, "prevent scaring off the ladies." The name "fwb" has been used because it just seemed appropriate.

7:12
Beqx
i was about to make fun of you about something from before but i decided not to
though it would have been a general commentary on the katamon scene so maybe i can just reword it, hm
7:13
FWB
i've stopped going to the tuesday night shiur, u should be impressed with me
7:14
Beqx
im so proud of you!!
dated/lost interest in all the girls there, i understand
oops the comment came out anyway
just not in the context about the nbn seudat shlishit being to celebrate the "new crop"
but anyway..
7:15
FWB
i never liked the shiur anyways. and it's getting less popular and i never had much success
i have to keep my eyes open
the new crop is always the best hope

Beqx
sigh, new crop...
i hope theyre all under 30
7:24
FWB
well, when you see a girl for me, let me know
even you being antisocial is probably more social than me
7:24
Beqx
will do
hey i need to meet more girls
its impossible to make female friends
no girls want to talk to other girls
its ridiculous
guys just play basketball and poker
girls are awkward
7:25
FWB
and no girl will go over to talk to a gy
guy
i don't play poker. but basketball is correct
7:25
Beqx
that lasts like a week and then all the girls realize how dorky the guys in katamon are
7:25
FWB
but we're nice guys
7:26
Beqx
nice.. awkward.. dorks... i never said its a bad thing
its just the reality of katamon social events
7:26
FWB
i always freely admit I'm a complete idiot

7:30
Beqx
this conversation is making me want to be antisocial again maybe on shabbat i'll just hide in my room and play with my trains
7:30
FWB
i'm getting depressed myself
but u antisocial is still quite social
7:30
Beqx
but new crop! get excited!
7:30
FWB
eh, won;t be different from any other
see, I'm jaded
7:31
Beqx
you havent been here for that long
so sad
7:31
FWB
true
7:31
Beqx
i was jaded five minutes after getting here
7:31
FWB
also true

7:35
FWB
i want to stop aging
7:36
Beqx
maybe shira and i can come up with a potion
like our other potions
7:36
FWB
we could use a good mid-twenties crisis
7:37
Beqx
i think i had one- it was called making aliyah
and im still early 20s
7:37
FWB
i was trying to take an average of us
7:37
Beqx
hhhmm
what would a mid-20s crisis entail?
7:37
FWB
still trying to figure that out
what do teenagers do these days?
7:38
Beqx
uuummm
pretend to be 20?
i think they make up relationship crises and overdramatize everyhing in their lives.... oh wait, sounds like katamon
7:39
FWB
u need to get over katamon or go live in a hut
an igloo will also work
7:39
Beqx
oohh then i could have snow
Beqx
maybe teenagers do fun things like squirt ketchup at cars from bridges
im just thinking bart simpson here
7:41
FWB
do a prank phonecall.
ask for Amanda. Amanda huginkiss

FWB
what's the options then?
7:46
Beqx
flicking things at the backs of peoples heads at NBN seudat shlishits?
7:48
FWB
options what to do as we grow older
7:49
Beqx
that sounds like something that needs a list. but shira isnt here so i have no one to make lists with
you dont think we should flick things at people?
7:50
FWB
too unrealistic
on that note, i'm off to do some shabbos
good to talk. be my girl-lookout pleae
later

When your world shrinks very fast

2008-07-04T00:16:00.002+03:00

I just came home from a wedding on Har Tzofim. The chuppah had a stunning view of the entire city. The bride was my friend Ruti who was briefly in ulpan with me, I ran into her once on the street, and she invited me to her wedding. In ten days I'm going to the wedding of the girl who sat in front of me on my aliyah flight. I've only seen her twice (briefly each time) since then. And she invited me to her wedding. Such is life in Israel.

Ruti's chatan gave a lengthy speech in which he seemed to personally thank each person in the room. There is one person he mentioned who was not at the wedding. Batsheva Unterman was killed in yesterday's attack in town leaving her husband and six month old child behind. When I got home from the wedding I saw a sign on my street announcing that the location of the shiva is the building right next to mine. It makes sense-- Batsheva and her family would often host Dov, Ruti's husband, for shabbatot so that he could be near Ruti who was living around the corner.

Yesterday probably around the time of the attack I was waiting at the 13 bus stop at the end of my street with Tamar, the kid I am taking care of for the summer. When we got to the bus stop we had barely missed a bus and while we waited two buses passed in the other direction. I don't know if one of those buses is that one that was smashed into, or maybe it was the bus right before it. But maybe. The timing was about right.

The wedding tonight was very small with a collection of family and various friends from different parts of Dov and Ruti's lives. And there were a lot of kids there. It's hard to imagine that one of the guests was supposed to be Batsheva and that one of the kids who should have been there tonight is now without a mother.

Update on my life

2008-06-05T14:48:00.006+03:00

Starting a few weeks before Pesach and up until a week ago I had the absolute joy of spending three afternoons a week (at least on the days I wasn't sick or unable to move because of my back) with this incredible adorable little guy, Noah. Playing with Noah brought back great memories of Raphi at that age. We went to the playground and hung around the apartment being silly. Once I got to bring him and his girlfriend (kids these days start young) Eliana to the playground together. Hopefully I'll see Noah in LA in September. Such a treat getting to play with him. This is a picture of him excitingly greeting his friends at his good-bye party.
I finished ulpan. That's right, I made it to the end. It's crazy that with ulpan finishing I'm more or less "done" with the beginning steps of making aliyah. I'm still convinced I have another ten years until my klitah is complete. I'm happy to say I learned a lot and made some good friends. It was comforting being around other people in the same position as me and being taught by teachers who really cared about us. For most of my time there I didn't feel that much of a connection to the place but I think over the next few months I'll really appreciate my time there and the friends I made.

This was taken at the Birthright Mega Event in Latrun. I was there with the Gift of Life Foundation to get more people in the bone marrow donor registry. American college students are so awesome. There were thousands of people there mostly from the US but also from France, Brazil, and India. I met some fellow Bostonians and fellow Terps. It was like a huge summer rock concert. It's great seeing so many people so incredibly excited about being in Israel.

Over the next few weeks I get to hang out with a slew of friends visiting from high school and college who will be visiting the country. Can't express how happy I'll be to hang out with them again. Really, really excited about that.

Also have a decent amount of babysitting jobs lined up. I have a short one in a couple weeks and then a six week full time job beginning at the end of June. It will be the first time I will be out of the apartment all day every day. It will also be the earliest I've had to wake up on a daily basis, and really the first time I'll have something in the morning I actually have to come on time to. Should be interesting. The job is for a four year old girl so hopefully I can be paid to do things like go to the zoo.

After that... I'm planning a month-long trip back to the US that will go through Rosh Hashanah. I haven't been in Newton for RH in a few years now. When I get back I'll have a few weeks (mostly taken up by Succot) until I begin a Masters in Education program at Hebrew University. So far I got accepted to the special education program and I'm waiting to hear from the Early Childhood Studies program. I'm hoping that between the Har Tsofim area and central Jerusalem I'll be able to find a sufficient amount of work for when I'm not in class (or trying to understand the material in Hebrew).

I guess I haven't been writing in my blog much lately because I've grown less cynical and more optimistic about my life here. Not to worry-- I still have plenty about the Katamon social scene, but I'm also becoming more accepting of it. In general with work for the summer and school set for the Fall (didn't expect to hear from Hebrew U until July) I'm feeling much better about things. It's been a really long and slow year. As I just told my friend who's making aliyah in a year-- the paperwork is the easy part. It's the packing the month before and the rest of your life after that that's the hard part. But I'm looking forward to toughing it out.

Once again, here is one of the top reasons I am here

2008-05-19T21:00:00.002+03:00

I couldn't not share this.

2008-05-13T11:30:00.002+03:00

Last night I was babysitting for Ami (5) and Erez (4). We heard a lot of police cars outside and I was telling him that the police was getting ready for President Bush to visit again.

Know why they call him Bush? Because he looks for poos in the bushes! Hahahahaha! --Ami

Oh, kids...

I am here.

2008-05-09T12:07:00.002+03:00

That's what I kept thinking this week. I am here. I am here because of the brave men and women we remembered Tuesday evening through Wednesday afternoon when Jerusalem came to a standstill for a siren at 8pm and again at 11am the following morning. Everyone always talks about how appropriate it is for Israel to have Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day) and Yom Haatzmaut (Independence day) back to back. That could never work in the US. How could Memorial Day come before an independence day for events that happened nearly 200 years ago? Unfortunately there are still US soldiers losing their lives all the time, but nobody in the US feels like their existence is sometimes hanging on a thread. But here the entire country feels that way. We all stop to remember. On Wednesday morning I went with my ulpan to a ceremony at a nearby high school. During the siren a girl behind me was sobbing. I didn't see who it was, and she wasn't the only one. I never saw so many teenagers express so much emotion like that. Throughout the ceremony students were leaning on each other. Afterwards when they got up there was a lot of hugging and people walked back to the school with locked arms. The eerie thing was that I realized what a close connection many of these students had to this day-- how many of them had friends or close relatives who lost their lives in battle. I have friends who have lost close friends. I have seen them crying. Last year UMD Hillel dedicated their Yom Hazikaron ceremony to the memory of Michael Levine, an American soldier whose twin sister graduated from the school a couple years ago. But I could never connect to the day the way these students did... and I hope I never do. We read a short article in class about the stereotype of Israelis as sabra fruits-- soft on the inside but prickly on the outside. The writer wrote how after a couple decades Israelis realized that it was okay to be soft, to express emotion. In fact they even had to in order to deal with the reality of living here.

Wednesday night we dried our eyes and broke out into song. I attended a Yom Haatzmaut tefilah with a full Hallel accompanied by a guitar and flute. After a "festive meal" at my brother's apartment I joined a couple thousand people at Kikar Safra (Jerusalem municipality) for singing and dancing to Israeli music. One day I will know all the hand motions and choruses. I guess it's just one more part of my klitah to look forward to. The city is so small. I felt like I recognized half the people there. Thursday morning I got up early to go on a hike with close to 25 other people. Coming back from the hike we were on a narrow road winding through valleys (note: don't look down) I had never seen before. I can't believe how developed a country can be after just 60 years. My grandma (seriously) asked me if there are sidewalks in Jerusalem, and here there are main roads winding around the sides of mountains. I hadn't seen that much green in Israel in awhile. My crazy Russian boss last summer, upon hearing that I'd be living in Jerusalem, said "Great, so we'll know that that part is ours." I had an inkling that she was Jewish, but never expected something like that from her. Rav Soloveitchik once spoke about how Avraham Avinu, after being told the borders of the land, walked the length of it in order to claim a true ownership of it. Every day I walk to ulpan, to work, wander down a small street I have never been on before, and yesterday I "inherited" a few kilometers more. I am here. Even after only nine months here I could observe Yom Haatzmaut with the excitement and pure joy of everyone around me. It isn't just that we need to appreciate the cost of having a Jewish homeland before celebrating it's independence. We NEED Yom Haatzmaut after the tears and emotions that get poured into Yom Hazikaron. We take just one day in the year to forget all our pains, all the blood that's been spilled, and just celebrate. There are flags everywhere, music coming from every, and the parks were full of families and friends celebrating together.

This year I didn't just celebrate the independence of the Jewish homeland, I celebrated the independence of my HOME. Even my 96 year old grandma, who never exactly expresses happiness over me being here, was really excited to ask me about Yom Haatzmaut. I can't wait to tell my other grandma about it whose opinion is "of course you moved to Israel, our family was always supposed to be in Israel. I couldn't do it but you could." I was thinking about how every year we say that there might never be another Tisha B'Av, that when full redemption comes we won't need it anymore. I think even when there is peace we should have Yom Hazikaron and Yom Haatzmaut as usual. It is too important for this country. Even in ten generations we have to tell the stories of what happened in the past sixty years. We always need to remember why we are here.

I am here. Zeh hayom asah Hashem, nagilah v'nishmechah vo!

That time I made my three year old cousin cry

2008-04-22T04:30:00.005+03:00

My three year old cousin Devorah has been having a rough time. She has been sick a lot, and she recently spent a few days in the hospital. For obvious reasons she has been really attached to her mother. She also likes me a lot except for today when I made her cry. Devorah was clearly getting tired and reaching meltdown stage, but in the meantime she was happily sitting next to me at the table eating some dinner. Somehow my friend Pesha came up in conversation, the mother of Raphi-- my bestest friend in the world. Raphi is about six months older than Devorah, and I always thought they'd make a cute pair. So I said, "Soon I'll introduce Raphi to Devorah so they can get married!" (or something of the sort). Probably at any time of day Devorah would have giggled and said "that's silly!" but this time she burst into tears and screamed "I don't want to leave Mommy! Mommy, mommy I can't leave you! I never want to leave you!" Devorah was completely distraught and couldn't be calmed down. I clarified that Raphi was just a nice friend I had for her to play with, but she wasn't buying it. Needless to say, it was pretty hysterical, and I had a hard time controlling my laughter (which wouldn't have helped the situation). I can think of so many situations in the future when I will want to remind Devorah of this event. In the meantime, she needs some reassurance that she will have many more years with her mommy and daddy. As for my relationship with Devorah, maybe a half hour later I was sitting on her bed with her discussing her possibly taking an airplane to visit me one day. I think she'll get over this... just don't mention marriage to her for awhile.

B'Chol Dor Va'Dor

2008-04-21T07:26:00.002+03:00

This evening as I sat through my family's second seder, I took advantage of an opportunity to read different commentaries on random parts of the haggadah without worrying about keeping up with the relatively fast pace of the seder. Tonight I was particularly interested in the end of magid when we recite that in every generation we must feel like we are the ones coming out of Egypt. This morning before musaf Rabbi Samuels connected this "dor va'dor" to the one in "vehi she'amdah" about in every generation there being an enemy that rises up against us. Sam (aka my brother) passed over his haggadah and pointed to a comment made about this paragraph at the end of magid in the haggadah "Halaylah Hazeh" which works in a lot of pop culture commentary and includes interested poems and stories connecting to the parts of the haggadah. I can't remember who this comment was from, but it said that part of considering ourselves as having come out of Egypt is also keeping in mind the destination of Bnei Yisrael when they left. I can only imagine how they felt on their way out. On one hand they had witnessed fantastic miracles, but on the other hand they were tired and weak and leaving a familiar life behind. Even with the promise of Israel in their future, I doubt it was easy to trudge out of Egypt. I have just spent three weeks experiencing everything I loved and still love about my life in America, whether it be the convenient shopping or the friends and family I have here. On Wednesday I am getting on a plane back to my new home in Israel. Even though I am well aware of the great life I am starting for myself in Israel, it is hard to leave my "Egypt" as it were. The comment in the haggadah, which was written for Israelis, goes on to say that just over a hundred years ago basically nobody had a parent who was born in Israel. In this generation Israel has a vibrant population and so many people have special stories about how they or their families got there. The writer encourages participants in the seder to share their stories of making aliyah. At my seder this comment was kept between me and my brother. There are too many complications with talking about aliyah in front of my grandmother who still isn't exactly thrilled with me and my brother living in Israel now. But this is what I think about this idea from "b'chol dor va'dor." For every generation thinking about leaving Egypt will be different. We all relate to the message of Pesach in a different way. Even more so for thinking about the destination of the Jewish people. Bnei Yisrael left Egypt hanging onto a promise. I live the actualization of that promise every day. It is something I see every day right in front of me. Yesterday my friend's mother asked me what I like about living in Israel. Quite honestly I had to stop and think. My life there isn't easy, and I can't say I have really achieved happiness there. But I do get great satisfaction from knowing that making aliyah was something I planned on doing for a really long time, and last summer I did it. There are now members of this generation of my family living in Israel. The "dor ha'ba" will have a story of their own to tell at their seder.

Back from College Park: where even the CVS guy was happy to see me

2008-04-16T02:47:00.003+03:00

Within three weeks I have basically made a crazy effort to see everyone who's important to me in my life. I was excited to be at home with my parents and grandmother in Newton and be welcomed by everyone at shul. I couldn't believe how big Ben and Tess got. Ben and Tess live down the street. When I met them Ben was 3 and Tess was 1. My first babysitting job was for them on Ben's 4th birthday. Now Ben is taking drivers ed and preparing to get his Learner's Permit in a couple weeks. I am loving the New England weather and, to go with that, central heating. Though really my third floor room here is as freezing cold as it always was, but the rest of the house is nice and toasty.

And then came the fun part: my 2008 East Coast Tour. Usually my annual tour is a simple trip to Philadelphia to see my grandmother and Teaneck for shabbat to see my cousins. This year I had to fit in going to College Park too. The past week was without a doubt the most exciting part of my trip back to America. Last Sunday, just five days after I arrived in the US, I flew down to Philadelphia. When I told my grandmother how long I was there for she gave me a sour look and said "Fine, I'll take what I can get!" I give her a tremendous amount of credit. She is on the verge of falling apart physically but insists on living on her own in her own house. She has people who come in to help her but she is adamant that she do as much as she can on her own. There are sometimes disasterous results, but this is what's important to her. Going to Philadelphia is never the most exciting part of a vacation but there are always stories to be told (gotta love the skeletons she pulls out of the closet from my family!) and she spends a good five hours or so telling me everything that's wrong with me but ending with "I love you anyway."

And from Philadelphia I went to... MARYLAND! I was so excited the second I saw a sign out the train window for Elkton, MD, right near the Delaware border and even happier when I caught site of a Maryland flag on the side of a Coca Cola factory. From Union Station I went to Kemp Mill to visit the daughters of someone who currently teaches at UMD but got her masters at Brandeis so has known me since I was the age of her oldest girls. I babysat for them and came for shabbat a couple times while I was at UMD and they complained that I didn't visit enough, so I had to work them into my trip! From there I went to University Towers to see more friends (arf!), and then Rebecca #2 picked me up to bring me to Silver Spring to see yet more friends who conveniently live together. I got to see Alan AND Noam AND Margo who despite what Alan implied are ALL my friends. The following morning I got on a bus to College Park. I was jumping up and down in my seat the entire way there.

College Park is beautiful. I could smell the fresh grass the second I got off the bus. Okay, I know this is an insane comparison to make, but I was full emotion like I was when I got off the plane in Israel back in August. I felt like I was home. To continue with what I wrote in my last post, on Friday I went to DC to see the Cherry Blossoms. It was too bad all my friends were too deathly ill to join me (or had class) but I enjoyed walking around icky humid DC on my own. I also visited my dinosaur friends (ie the skeletons) at the museum of Natural History. For those of you who don't know, one of the best classes I took at UMD was Dinosaur Class. When I got back to College Park I went to the Book Exchange to get a fresh pair of sweatpants. Then checked out Rugged Warehouse because UMD was 20 degrees warmer than the weather I had packed for, and basically I didn't wind up wearing 75% of what I packed for the trip. Then I went to CVS and was thrilled to get Jason as my cashier. To explain, Jason is the best CVS employee in the entire world. I want to be best friends with him. In the thirty seconds it took me to check out he caught me up on his life and I caught him up on mine. Does anyone know his last name? He must be on facebook. Anyway, that's when you really know you're at home somewhere - when even the CVS guy is happy to see you.

It was a typical shabbat at UMD. Friday night we had a meal at Shira's. On facebook she classified it as a protest against me leaving and encouraged people to picket. Stu made the best (and only) sign calling for me to get out of Israel. I can't wait to hang it on my wall in Israel and have lots of people see it and get the wrong idea. For shacharit the following morning, while you'd think that after almost a year I could sit through shacharit at Hillel, I didn't even bother davenning there at all. I just went for the end to see people... and it was so great seeing people. Shabbat lunch was at Chabad so I could catch up with all of them. My friend Doni was also in from Israel and in College Park for shabbat. He's in the army so I never ever see him. He said it's crazy we both had to go 6000 miles to see each other. It was good having him there... nice reminder of where we've both gone with our lives. Shabbat afternoon I did the unthinkable and went back to Hillel for mincha (not that I went in) and seudat shlishit so I could see more people. Even though there are like billions of freshmen at Hillel now I am happy to report that the community is still holding together. It was good to be back. Since I clearly wasn't going to stick around for havdalah, I left early to go have some quiet time on the mall. I can't believe I spent four years on that campus and that my time there was really all over. I was remembering when I sat out there during my orientation trip and thought about what had brought me there. But that aside ("ha'mevin yavin") it was a special few minutes. It had finally cooled down and campus looked fabulous as always.

When I'm in Israel I probably tell my few friends there how much I miss my many friends back in College Park way too often. I realize that I was very lucky and got in with a great group of friends really quickly. Even so, I was saying a week or so ago that even a total loner has friends in college at this point in the year, even if it's just one or two people they can reliably hang out with at night or on the weekends. When I left Hillel Saturday evening really feeling happy about the great people I met and became friends with in college I saw a kid standing by the walkway of Hillel facing the fence on the side and basically staring at his feet. Okay, maybe not everyone finds their niche. It totally broke my heart. I wished he had at least been pacing up and down the path so I could have said hi. Sigh.

Saturday night me, Shira, Dan, Stu (I miss listing all of us together) and Minnesota Sara (who is just as important) went out on the mall to blow bubbles. By now this is a scripted ritual. We start on the steps of the Administration Building, Shira and Sara stop to waltz by the fountain, following by sprawling out on the sundial and then ending up by Testudo in front of the library. And this time Shira and Sara stopped to make out behind a tree, but what else is new? So glad nothing has changed. Just like old times and all that. Glad everyone got at least slightly healthier to go out Saturday night. That night was really what I visited for.

So with a few more pats on Testudo's nose than usual I got ready to leave College Park. I still feel such a connection to that place and know that even long after all my friends have graduated it will still be important for me to come back there. It's crazy that I chose to go to UMD for such a silly reason and it wound up being one of the best decisions of my life. When I accepted admission to the school I had barely seen the campus and knew little about the programs there. Now I have been taught by some incredible professors, especially in the History department, lived in a crazy college town, spent every day walking along perfectly trimmed grass into tall brick buildings with white pillars, and I have friends I can't imagine living without. They even picketed against me leaving!ends I can't imagine living without. They even picketed against me leaving!

Sunday morning I stagged out of bed (or rather rolled off the air mattress) bright and early to leave for Teaneck. I'm glad I left visiting my cousins for the end of the trip after College Park or else I don't know if I would have ever left. My little cousins (Aharon, Adina, and Eitan) were well aware that they had less than 24 hours with me and milked every second of it. Eitan and Adina whisked Spotty and Peter off to feed them (cottage cheese as always) and Aharon showed me the report he was doing on the computer using Google images. 9 year olds are smart these days. Aharon got so tall I'm not even sure I can call him a little cousin anymore. I love watching them grow. They are so cool. I could say a zillion things about how cute they are. Monday morning. #1 on that list is waking up Monday morning to Eitan opening my door to crawl into bed with me... with Spotty, who slept in Eitan's bed for the night (Peter slept with Adina). Being adored is wonderful.

I was exhausted when I got back to Newton yesterday, and today I was out playing with my cousin Devorah all afternoon. What a trooper! She hasn't been feeling well for awhile and just spent a few days in the hospital because she was so anemic. Today, thanks to a healthy blood transfusion, she spent over an hour bouncing around at the park. She commented that she had to wait a long time to see me, and it was only two weeks since I last saw her. So cute.

Tomorrow I have two more playdates. Sam and Michal are coming in from Israel. I'm spending Thursday with my mom. My sister is coming in Thursday night. I haven't seen her since my college graduation. My time here is flying by, and as I said, it's extremely intense seeing everyone in three weeks and knowing I won't see them again for awhile. Thankfully my next trip back is only four and not seven months away. My cousins were a little more forgiving about letting me go this time. I can't even think about going back to Israel right now. I'm glad I'm going back, but I just don't want to think about it. Being here is too special.

Hi from College Park

2008-04-11T04:25:00.005+03:00

This morning I took a bus from Silver Spring (yay Moishe House) to College Park. As the bus neared campus I was literally jumping up and down in my seat. Finally I got off the bus and looked around at the beautiful brick buildings and smelled the well tended grass and aaahh... I was home.

Everything is bringing back memories. Like that time I got smacked with a wet towel when I came as a prospective. Or when Shira got pregnant. Well, that happens all the time. Or sitting with Raphi on the mall splashing our feet in the water. Later Shira and I will read over the lists we made on mural paper with crayons and markers in lots of different colors. Too bad that blizzard never came. Would have been useful. But it was still fun turning on the shower and leaving the door open so the people banging on my door would think I couldn't open it. Oh well. Oh college. It was so weird walking around campus without there being a place I needed to be. I can't believe I went to a school this magnificent. It is seriously the most gorgeous place I can imagine living aside from, I don't know, a house perched over a flowery valley in the Golan. And I had buffalo chicken for lunch. So good. Except I had to pay for it myself because I didn't know any meal plan people to bully. Actually going into Hillel was less traumatic than I expected it to be.

Now I'm full of Buffalo Chicken, Ben Yehuda's pizza, and a 7-11 slurpee. I've been reunited with my nearest and dearest. I had some enlightening intellectual conversations with a few professors... or at least an amusing one with Dr. Manekin. Even sitting on the soft lush grass of the UMD Mall was so enjoyable. I am SO HAPPY to be here. More crazy college memories to follow. Like when Shira and I got tipsy and tried to disassemble my hard drive. And trick-or-treating at our downstairs neighbor's apartment. And that time this guy from my class was standing in the hallway of my dorm with his pants around his ankles. Good times.

I'm at the airport...

2008-04-01T09:03:00.004+03:00

This might somehow be the least stressful trans-Atlantic trip I've ever taken. I packed less than I would bring for most trips from College Park to Newton. A good chunk of my bag is taken up by my large duffle which I expect to fill with new clothes or other stuff from Newton. It is also basically impossible to forget anything. I know that where I'm going I have extra clothes for all sorts of weather so I didn't have to agonize over what exactly to pack. Basically I have enough to hold me over until I go to Old Navy. Also unlike my ten previous trips to Israel, everyone I said bye to I will see again in under a month. Maybe that sort of stress is being saved for the way back.

I had a great last few days in Israel. My dad was here for shabbat in between business trips in Paris. A couple hours ago I got to quickly say bye to him as he lined up for his flight back to France. He'll be arriving back in Boston right after I leave for Philadelphia, so I actually won't see him for most of my trip. Because this trip involved easy packing and no real last minute shopping, I really got to enjoy myself. I saw friends all around Jerusalem, played with Harriet the Spy, and bonded with my roommates. Our new special handshake is unforgettable. It just can't be described.

I don't know what to expect from this trip. It's another step in my aliyah process and figuring out what my life here is really like. I look forward to seeing my mom and grandmother tonight, getting hugged by lots of people at shul on shabbat, and then visiting my other grandmother in Philadelphia on Sunday. After Philadelphia I will be traveling to College Park - the highlight of my trip - to visit the awesome friends I have there. Then I'll be making a quick trip to Teaneck to see my little cousins who aren't so glad that I'm not longer a four hour drive away. Then I'll be returning to Boston for another week at home and the first few days of Pesach. I'm sure the time will fly by. But as I said in my last post, I think the coolest part of this trip will be returning home to Jerusalem in three weeks.

Things to smile about

2008-03-25T16:41:00.003+02:00

Purim Meshulash is the best kind of "three day yom tov" out there. First of all, it's more like five days of Purim. The only day for schools and ganim to have Purim activities is on Wednesday, the day before Ta'anit Esther. There is no school on Fridays, can't have big events on the fast day, so that leaves us with Wednesday. On Wednesday every single kid in Jerusalem was in costume. There were princesses and Spider-men everywhere. My ulpan is on the same street as two elementary schools. I was so tempted to sneak into the school instead of continuing down the street to class. On the way home I saw a crowd of little kid animals coming out of gan. Ezeh kef! So much fun. To top it all of Jerusalem got incredibly warm over the past few days, reaching temperatures of over 90 degrees. What a treat to see all of Jerusalem outside celebrating together. Purim is a holiday for everyone.

Usually Purim is a hectic and exhausting holiday. This year was so different. On Thursday night and Friday morning we (as in those in Jerusalem) had Megillah reading, and on Friday we had to give matanot l'evyonim. Usually the night of Purim is really stressful. I'm coming off a fast day and all I can think about is preparing mishloach manot for the next day. This year I could take it easy. On Friday I went with my brothers to his in-laws in Neve Daniel for their seudah (which, being outside of Jerusalem, they had on Friday). When I got home I had plenty of time to bake another fifty or so hamantashen. It was day one of wearing my cape. On shabbat I could just take it easy... and enjoy the insane heat. I attended a v'nahafochu upside down meal Friday night during which I was served a brownie "hamburger" with strawberry "tomatoes" and whipped cream "mayo" as my second course (with a second dessert later on). On shabbat the parks were flooded with families enjoying the sunshine. Motzei shabbat I took it easy and packaged my mishloach manot bundles. No rushing out to megillah or refueling on sugar after a fast day. On Sunday I could sleep a little late, and then once again I put on my cape and set off to make deliveries. Couldn't wear my entire costume-- wasn't exactly designed for 90 degree heat. After some special deliveries I dashed to seudah #1 of the day, then to the shuk to buy stuff for my seudah (the place was almost empty!) and then back home to prepare. So many people were out in the street in costume. Our seudah was lots of fun though we learned the important lesson that if you have an end of the day seudah, everyone will come with full stomachs from the other five seudahs they were already at. Oh well. Leftover pasta anyone?

On Friday my sister-in-law's sister-in-law (does that make sense?) commented on the mishloach manot prepared by the Midreshet Moriah girls as a fundraiser for Sderot saying that every year the yeshiva students come up with some issue to invest in, whether it be rebuilding the North or this year supporting the citizens of Sderot. I thought back to my year in Israel, when on the evening following Purim day my roommate burst into my room frantically telling me that the war was starting. The US had bombed Iraq, and I had to report to the Midrasha building to receive my gas mask. I've always thought about the irony of that day-- how we traded in our masks of Purim for a mask of war. That night some girls were quiet and calm, others were hysterically crying, and then there was a small group sitting on the floor in a circle having a kumsitz and using their gas mask boxes as drums.

This month started with a huge blow to the morale of the people here. Eight young men were murdered while learning Torah. No one could fathom how we would be able to celebrate Purim just two weeks later. I'm not so sure all the family members of the eight victims were singing and dancing over the holiday, and despite the many brave souls who ventured down to Sderot to run Purim carnivals and parties I doubt anyone there could completely put aside their fear to celebrate for one day. Five years ago I wasn't sure how we were all going to get through the stress and anxiety about learning how to put on gas masks, inject ourselves with atropine, and seal a room. But then I went into the hall and saw the girls having the kumsitz. Somehow we do it. Even if it's by doing something as small and silly as attaching butterfly wings to our cat.

L'Yehudim hayitah ORA V'SIMCHAH V'SASSON VA'YIKAR...
Kein tihiyeh lanu.

And to my friends and family missing me in the US- I'll see you very soon. In one week I will be back in Newton followed by a trip to Philadelphia, College Park, and Teaneck. I am excited to temporarily leave my home here to visit my home in the US, though I'm having to say that I am finally realizing how special it will be on April 24th when I come back to Jerusalem from the airport and collapse into my own bed in my home here.

"Eich naflu giborim?"

2008-03-07T09:29:00.004+02:00

Yohai Livshitz, 18, from Jerusalem;

Yonatan Yitzhak Eldar, 16, from Shilo

Yonadav Haim Hirschfeld, 19, from Kohav Hashahar

Neria Cohen, 15, from Jerusalem

Segev Peniel Avihail, 15, from Neve Daniel

Avraham David Moses, 16, from Efrat

Roee Roth, 18, from Elkana

Doron Meherete, 26, from Ashdod

T'hiyeh zichram baruch.

What it feels like to be Israeli

2008-03-06T21:46:00.003+02:00

Nearly two hours ago Alissa called to ask if I had heard that a shooting had happened somewhere. I checked the news- nothing. I heard sirens in the distance, but I live around several main streets. There are always sirens. She called back about twenty minutes later to tell me that there had been a pigua, a terrorist attack on a yeshiva near town. I looked again on jpost.com and still nothing. Two minutes later I checked again and there it was. Three gunmen had entered the Mercaz HaRav yeshiva in Kiryat Moshe and opened fire. Six people have been confirmed dead and many more were wounded.

Since I arrived on aliyah, Sderot has been the hot topic of conversation. We spend hours discussing the danger civilians there face and what we can do to support them emotionally and financially. Jerusalem has been somewhat of a safehaven. The safety precautions that were enforced upon me five years ago are a distant memory. When I was here five years ago there were multiple suicide bombers on buses and shootings in the Gush. A week before I left a former NCSY advisor of mine was injured in a pigua on the 14 bus. I remember walking by the site a few days later and seeing a beat-up piece of cardboard with a pasuk from Eichah etched on it: The enemy has once again entered the gates of Jerusalem.

Tonight is Rosh Chodesh Adar. We are supposed to be "marbim b'simcha" and I feel numb. Mercaz HaRav is two minutes away from where I stayed for each of my past five visits to Israel, but now it feels more like my neighborhood than it ever did before, even if it is an hour walk from where I live now. The victims of this attack will have rushed funerals Erev Shabbat. I don't think any of their families will manage to be "marbim b'simcha" on Rosh Chodesh Adar ever again.

This news still isn't even an hour old. If I heard this in America I think by now I would be back to whatever it was I was doing. Here I have ten minutes more of a TV show episode and I'm not sure if and when I will watch it. I know that Jerusalem will feel like a different place when I go out tomorrow. Everyone will be feeling what happened tonight.

Every Israeli feels it, which now includes me.

The Adventure that is Israel Basketball Games

2008-03-03T11:11:00.004+02:00

Last night, thanks to Tal Brody (a former Maccabi Tel Aviv player, and a former oleh chadash) I got to go to a Maccabi Tel Aviv basketball game for free as part of a Nefesh B'Nefesh event. We filled three buses from Jerusalem and joined another hundred or so olim at the arena. Considering the relatively small number of fans at the game, it was impressive filling a couple sections with olim chadashim. I was happy because I had a good excuse to wear a Terps shirt. How could I NOT wear a Terps shirt to a basketball game? Maccabi Player Terence Morris, #9, is a former Terp. A couple of us fellow alums made huge signs for him. My favorite was the "DUKE SUCKS!" one I made. We are pretty unsure he didn't notice at all, but it was fun anyway.The players were escorted to the court by cute little kids in uniforms. During halftime the kids scrimmaged on the court. I wonder how they earned the privilege. It was very cute. This picture was taken as they lined up for the singing of HaTikvah. I guess that's when I realized how cool it was to be at a professional sporting event in Israel. I was surprised they played a poor recording of the song instead of having someone sing it live. I guess they have a ways to go. There was less audience participation in this rendition. And, sigh, nothing beats the famous Maryland "O!!!".

This was truly the most fascinating part of the game. A crowd of teenagers with "Gate 11" t-shirts and sweatshirts who made up the cheering squad. This isn't just any cheering squad. These kids are clearly diehard friends who pour every ounce of energy into these games. I wonder if they ever do their homework. They were armed with flags, banners, and drums. This dorky kid with glasses in front was the ringleader. He held up his hand to single which cheer to do, and he coordinated two part cheers between the two sides of the section. I noticed at the end of the game that he had been holding the hand of that other boy the entire game. Why? I have absolutely no idea. Many theories though... I wonder how he got chosen for this job. Is there a rotation? Election? I think now in addition to my aspiration to have a kid who's the best crossing guard on the block, my kid should lead a pack of sweaty teenagers at Israel basketball games.

Living here is like being at camp.

2008-02-26T21:51:00.002+02:00

It is like being at camp for a long, long time. And there's no visiting day every two weeks. No homemade cookies and care packages from home. Some days are exciting and fun while other days just make you want to run into the woods and hide... except there was always poison ivy, so that's not too fun. Supposedly people who, unlike me, weren't the lone Bostonian in an oppressive New York environment like Moshava made zillions of friends they would wait all year to see again. Though my guess is they didn't really realize what great friendships they had until they had been home for a few weeks, and when they would return the following summer I think sometimes they'd subconsciously realize that maybe ten months of distance was a good thing.

Living here is a much more positive camp experience for me. I have friends, though I have even better friends in the US. Every day when I get home I rush to my laptop to see what's going on with them and tell them the latest news in my life. Thank goodness for email and immediate communication. I don't know what I would do without it.

This is all, of course, entirely different. I am the family member anxiously wondering what's going on back home. And I'm the one who's going to visit in a few weeks and just by being there be worth so much more than a care package on visiting day. I will have a brief three weeks to do the most that I can to help keep things even the slightest bit under control.

Then there's the life I'll be leaving here while I'm away. Who am I going to miss? What am I going to miss? How anxious will I be to get back? Going back home will also mean leaving home. This is my main life now. It's not just a ten month stretch between summers. When I see my friends at Maryland will I be full of stories from Israel or will I dive back into their world and my life with them?

The next few months will be interesting. I've been here for six months, and in five weeks I am leaving for three weeks in the US. About ten weeks after that I will be returning again to the US for the summer so I can make money and, you know, afford to live. I have to no doubt that it will be both physically and emotionally stressful to bounce back and forth like that. I just really wonder what I'm going to miss, in so many ways and for so many different reasons.

I've been here for 6 months? No way.

2008-02-20T11:43:00.002+02:00

Last night, in honor of Purim Katan and my 6 month aliyah anniversary, I co-hosted a party. Okay, lets all just digest that for a moment. I helped organized an event with lots of people in my apartment. Doesn't make sense to me either. Nothing too crazy happened. Except for the guy who asked when we were going to my room. And made comments about putting on his pants. And invited me to come over and get drunk and go home the next morning. Oh wait, those were all from the same person. (I said I wouldn't write incriminating things on facebook, not my blog.) I did enjoy myself, and not just at the breakaway party in my room. I'm not allowed to talk about that anyway. I'm always up for an excuse to wear my cape. Whacking people with my sword is fun too.

So while I had my usual party frustration of not being able to have real conversations with people I already only see once every three weeks or so, it was good noticing that I had actually become friends with most of the people in the room and actually felt at a loss for not getting to talk to them. It's a weird way of looking at things.

It was interesting to hear people's greetings about my 6 month aliyah anniversary. I got a few excited "HAPPY ALIYANNIVERSARY!" type of greetings, and then the somewhat more appreciated greetings of "I would say happy anniversary, but you know, we still all wonder what the hell we're really doing here." Along those lines, I was asked where I would be if I wasn't in Israel. My first thought is Georgetown or Silver Spring. I don't know how I would have ever afforded to live there (or anywhere for that matter), but I could have pretended I never really graduated college and not had to make new friends. Then I realized how weird it felt saying this to people who had recently become my friends. I will never have the same sort of "social happiness" I was extremely privileged to in college. I doubt I will meet too many people here who call me their BFF five minutes after meeting me. Then there's this weird feeling that when I become friends with someone here, it's like I'm indirectly replacing a friend back in the US who I might not see again for a long time.

Six months after boarding a plane that would take me to a whole new life, I still have really mixed feelings about this whole thing. I never for a second doubt my decision. There is no way I could ever ever ever doubt a dream I had for nearly ten years and then successfully fulfilled. So if any of you, anywhere, were wondering-- I don't regret a thing. And am I happy here? Depends. Ask me in five minutes and I might have a different answer. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe the most important thing I've learned in six months is to disregard anything anyone tells me about living in Israel and think things over for myself.

Thank you to everyone who came to celebrate with us last night. It was awesome.

Happy 4th Aliyah Anniversary, Sam!

2008-02-08T14:35:00.001+02:00

And as a present- the coolest cake I have ever made.

"a special blog post"

2008-02-07T22:43:00.000+02:00

Certain parts of this entry might refer to actual events more than others. Here it goes...

My entire plan for this week has been a complete failure, both the parts of it outlined two blog entries before this one and in the famed email to Shira that will not be published for public viewing.

Tonight I was at a party, again. I suppose it wasn't so bad, but when I was finally ready to leave I of course had to be intercepted by the creepiest and most annoying guy there. Way to end my unsuccessful week of avoiding social events. This young man (young... it's all relative in Katamon), who shall remain anonymous, like for similar situations I reflect on in this blog, just went on and on. Who really cares that his car got dented. Hm, can't really remember anything else he said. I guess I spaced out after that.

And then I came home. The end.

But I have to share with everyone that I am making the coolest cake ever for Sam's fourth aliyah anniversary party. This is what it looks like at the moment.Doesn't it look like a giant chocolate hamburger sandwich?

For this I'll stay in Israel

2008-02-02T23:06:00.001+02:00

(when Pesha told Ruchama I was coming for shabbat)
"Why did you wait so long to tell me??? I need time to get excited!"

Pesha: Rebecca is coming for shabbat.
Raphi: Oh... I want Maryland Rebecca to come.
Pesha: Maryland Rebecca IS coming for shabbat- she lives in Yerushalayim now!
Raphi: Oh! Yay!

(when Raphi opened the door for me)
"It's Becca! I knew it! I knew it was Becca! Becca is here!"

me: Raphi, you got so big!
Raphi (in a "taunting" voice and dancing around the room): I got so big! I got so big!

me: Raphi, where do I live?
Raphi: Maryland.
me: I used to live in Maryland. Where do I live now?
Raphi: um... YERUSHALAYIM!!!!!!

The Scene That is Not My Scene

2008-02-01T13:11:00.001+02:00

I went to maybe five Hillel events in my entire four years at the University of Maryland. I can't think of any parties I went to besides engagement parties. I went to a bar three times-- once for my 21st birthday, and the two other times for the 21st birthdays of two friends. I never even went to Terp Zone, the arcade/bowling alley place in the student center. My social events consisted on gatherings to watch "The OC," occasional trips to Kemp Mill for pizza, movie nights (of course), and senior year close to twenty basketball games. But I'm not sure where yelling obscenities at the other team with thousands of fellow students falls within the realm of "social events."

In any case, I've come to the realization that my new life here, for better or worse, has been completely different. More details of these reflections can be found in emails to Shira and a few AIM conversations which, clearly, no one else will get to read. And yes, that's "the good" stuff as it were. But here's what I do want to share in this blog. I've been to several Nefesh B'Nefesh kiddushes and other events, attended shiurim more to socialize than for the Torah, and... I went to a party? Where people were dancing and getting drunk? Yes, apparently I did. And I enjoyed myself, more or less. So last night I didn't really surprise myself when at 10pm, after enjoying a play with a couple friends, I agreed to check out a party taking place at a sketchy club in the backstreets of Talpiot. Okay, all clubs are sketchy to me. But this place was dark and smokey and like 100 degrees. Should have been a nice change from my frigid apartment, but not really. I and the other friend who was there as a tag-along lasted all of five minutes. Instead we got ice cream and went home. Ice cream stores in small groups-- now THAT'S my scene.

So besides so many other things I'm thinking about (wow, that was one long email to Shira) I'm thinking that after my exciting shabbat playdate with Raphi, and watching the Superbowl (which might take place in some larger-than-I'd-like social gathering) that I just won't go to these events are parties anymore. It will probably force me to actually make real concrete plans with the friends I've made here. No more two minute conversations with random people. And no more overwhelming large social gatherings. We'll see how it goes. Definitely no clubs or parties for awhile.

The City of Gold and White

2008-01-31T16:23:00.000+02:00

A double snow day in Jerusalem? Who would have thought. Not that it took much. I was unaware of this, but school for today (Thursday) had already been canceled as of Wednesday night. The municipality realized that it simply was not equipped to deal with the quickly melting slush. Everything was closed, and buses weren't running... not that you could find out that useful piece of information from the Egged website. This morning I looked outside and saw snow and checked to see that ulpan had been canceled. A few hours later Alissa and I bundled up in four or five layers ready to finally escape from being cooped up in our unbearably cold apartment only to go outside into the bright sun and almost clear sidewalks. And yet... it was a snow day. It was absolutely gorgeous outside today! The restaurants on Emek Refaim were all packed with customers. I was worried that there wouldn't be any snow left for my scheduled snowball fight this afternoon. Yes, I made a facebook event for a snowball fight. For some STRANGE reason I had much difficulty finding people to go outside and play with. So much so that I had to trudge through the snow/rain/sleet/hail (all of which happened in the span of twenty minutes) to Katamon only to have to go INSIDE to throw a snowball at someone. The things I do to make sure I have fun. Thanks to Lisa, Alissa, Efrat, and Rachel who joined me for a fabulous snowball fight in Gan HaPa'amon... and for the random little Israeli kids who joined us. And to their father who had no problem with me throwing snowballs at his children, and even took a picture for us.
I can't believe I was playing in the snow just five weeks after walking barefoot on the beach.

There's some catching up to do

2008-01-21T21:49:00.000+02:00

Shabbat, The Parents Visit, First Day of Ulpan, the friend who took me to a party to get drunk, Tu B'Shvat, and other exciting adventures of the past week....

The Shabbat after Bush was here....
I spent shabbat with the Solomonts in Chashmonaim. Ari Solomont was the regional director of New England NCSY for my entire time "in the system" as it were. Despite putting my time in NCSY as far in the past I can, I have maintained a close connection with the Solomonts. How could I resist? When I go for shabbat I'm one of several guests. The Solomonts kids treat me like a big sister. Sarah Beth cooks up a storm and serves five kinds of cookies for dessert. I've been to their house seven times since they made aliyah four and a half years ago. This past visit I was reading through their guest book. I had written so many post-shabbat messages that I wonder if I ever spent shabbat at home in Newton (they lived in the next town over). This is the message I wrote last week: While I hope that I will soon feel at home in Israel, I am grateful that I always have a place here to go home to for shabbat.

Sunday through Wednesday I tried to enjoy my last few days of freedom before ulpan started. On Sunday Lisa and I went to Gilo to get our temporary passports. The view from Gilo is magnificent. We could see the Keren HaYesod area (and waved hi to Harriet). I could sit out there all day.

Thursday was my first day of ulpan. It is exhausting. And boring. Though I do have good reason to think that I will learn something. But it's incredibly boring. I am constantly handed worksheets and we do a lot of things in pairs. It's like first grade all over again. Alissa says that soon it will get to us and we'll start acting like it too. That'd be great-- then I can bring more toys to class than just my little firetruck. At least for the four hours I am closed into the classroom I'm with a seemingly fun and very diverse group of people. My class features students from the US, Canada, South Africa, France, Argentina, Belgium, and England. And since most of them just got here, they remind me of the excitement I felt when I arrived in August. I am also feeling what I knew I would feel once I started Ulpan Etzion-- the magic of kibbutz galiyot. This is why I'm here. My passion for living in Israel is nothing without people from around the world who feel the same way. There is an excitement in the air that we are all together learning Hebrew and beginning our lives in Israel. And by far the best thing is for once I am with a bunch of Jews who have different things to talk about. It's refreshing. I'll leave it at that.

Thursday evening/night:
I guess I suddenly got inspired to make plans and do things with friends I've made here. So I made plans with one friend for the late afternoon to have hot cocoa and catch up, and then another friend who wasn't available the previous day when I called invited me to come to a party with him. And I quote, "No, it's more fun if you're really tired. That way I can make you more drunk so you can have your own drunk story to tell." I don't even think I should bother talking about the party (another glimpse into the Katamon Scene) after that quote. It was an interesting contrast of social situations.

On Friday.... MY PARENTS CAME! With a huge backpack loaded with everything I asked for. But more importantly, they came to visit me and Sam. They tacked on shabbat in Jerusalem to a business trip my dad had in Paris. It was planned just two weeks in advance. It was really special having my parents visit me in my new home. I noticed the deeper effects of "lech lecha mi'bayt avichah." My parents miss me... a lot. I already learned the truth in "asher ar'echa," that there was so "unknown" left in Israel even after ten visits in thirteen years. But at the same time my parents are dealing with an empty household and two children six thousand miles away. And a third child complaining that she needs new siblings. I highly doubt that Avraham's father came to visit, gave him a huge hug, and said "I'm proud of you." Luckily my parents did that to me.

On Motzei Shabbat we all went to a l'chaim for someone my bro and I grew up with in Newton, and whose mother z"l was a very close friend and colleague of my mother's. It was just like shul in Newton. Between Newton and Brandeis olim my parents and I knew half the people there. Even when you think you've left your old life behind, they all show up at a simcha. I saw a good friend I grew up with who also made aliyah this past summer. FINALLY! Supposedly med students are too busy to socialize much. It's great when I'm reminded that I didn't start this crazy dream alone, and I won't live it through alone either.

So now I'm on a "my parents just hugged and fed me for three days" high. Probably helping me not completely break down after losing my 700 shekel phone in a cab today. It is probably a good thing that I was more focused on getting two little kids safety out of the car, but needless to say I am extremely bummed out about this. At least I had my parents buy me a warmer blanket so I can sleep through the night and forget about it for a few hours. Did I mention how freakin' early I need to wake up to get to ulpan? And THEN sit still for four hours? Blah. I am not a fan. But as I said, it's going to be a good experience. I am optimistic... and when was the last time I said that about something here? And people say I'm always cynical...

I'll end with a thought on Tu B'Shvat... so I guess I won't get to my new work-from-home job with IDT and Lisa's fascinating life. I was at a Tu B'Shvat seder tonight and while I wasn't drifting off from exhaustion and thinking about things like closed minded Jews, my missing phone, how boring ulpan was, and how awesome it was to see my parents I was thinking about the ideas being discussed at the seder. Rabbi Greenfield talked about appreciating the different characteristics of a fruit, like noticing the fruits where every part is edible or useful, where even the pit can be used to create a new plant. He also told the classic story of the old man explaining to a little boy that he's planting a carob tree, even though he knows he won't be around to see it produce fruit, because he wants it to be there for future generations. This is probably going to come off as a corny "mashal and nimshal" but as I settle more into my life here, make friends, and figure out what to do with my life, I think I am tasting more of the "fruits" (literally and metaphorically) of Israel. There have been plenty of "pits to spit out" but even those can lead to something positive in the future. I am planting my trees, and hopefully someone somewhere down the line will benefit from them. The first email I sent to my mom after arriving on aliyah had pictures of my apartment and said "... az yaish li bayit b'Eretz Yisrael." So in the spirit of Tu B'Shvat, starting Ulpan Etzion, and being even more corny... "Eretz Yisrael sheli yafah v'gam porachat. Mi banah u'mi bantah? Kulanu b'yachad!"

I don't even know what to call this post... maybe "Bush comes to town"

2008-01-11T00:08:00.000+02:00

Where do I even begin? Yesterday I had a doctors appointment (#5 since I arrived) on Palmach and thought I left with plenty of time to deal with any possible road blocks, but when I got to the end of my street I was prohibited from crossing Jabotinsky. President Bush's arrival was imminent. Hundreds of policemen were out in anticipation of the two minute journey Bush would be taking from the King David Hotel to the President's House. A two minute trip that caused the entire center of the city to shut down. As my roommate put it, there was a map in the paper showing the area that would be blocked off. If you put a star in the middle, it would probably be smack on top of our apartment building. Though some people managed to cross the street anyway, I figured it might be fun to watch. I called the doctors office and told them what they had heard many times that day, that due to road closings I would be late. Bush finally came by. The frummy seminary girls were on the roof of their building shrieking "I LOVE YOU BUSH!" No one else in Jerusalem seemed to have anything of the sort to say. One of my bus drivers said "I hope it rains all week so his little vacation is ruined." Mostly comments like that.

Finally got to the doctors and it was concluded that I'm probably allergic to this country which is why my eyes are still itchy. But, I am pleased to say, I had an entirely positive experience with this doctors visit. Imagine that. Then I began my Palmach tour. Saw my gemara teacher and her adorable little boy, who got sick for my last two gemara classes just so his ema wouldn't be able to make me read in class. Then I saw my sister-in-law so I followed her home so I could get chicken soup. Mmm... chicken soup. While I was there I got a call from a friend who needed help with a bone marrow drive so I met up at his apartment to go do that. Nothing is more fun than helping a sorority girl with hand-eye coordination for swabbing cheek cells.

Then today... today was my last day of Nishmat. I am really glad I did this. I came up with the idea to do Nishmat part time until ulpan starts, which is also part time, because I knew I had to do it for just the right amount of time or else I would get burnt out. And I'm not burnt out. In fact, I could go longer. I think it's more likely I'll be burnt out by ulpan after next week than if I had one more week at Nishmat. It's sad that I can't imagine any time in the near future when I'll get to sit and learn again. Maybe it was even a luxury I couldn't afford this year, but I knew I had to. It is hard to look forward to ulpan. I can't wait to be in more of a college-like atmosphere and finally be around people who also just made aliyah. But shlepping there at 8am... groan. We'll see how long this lasts. At least I hope I last a long time, and I really want to learn Hebrew better, but I'm just not sure where the inspiration will come from.

After Nishmat I saw Davida- yay UMD reunion! Then I went to the most brilliant production of The Mikado. I'll put it this way, I don't understand how anyone wouldn't be willing to spend 100 shekels to see their college professor dressed like a 400 pound man and singing at the top of his lungs? Professor Manekin would like you all to know that he does in fact sing and was not making it up. There was also plenty of Bush humor and Israel/Jewish humor mixed in. I was very well entertained.

On the way back I was once again prevented from crossing the street. On the way to the theatre I amazing was allowed to walk down King David Street. The policeman radioed another policeman asking if "an American with a teudat zehut" could walk through and they said yes... but when I got to the other end of the closed off area there were tons of angry Israelis not being allowed through. What a mess, for so many reasons. I hope someone taught Bush the word "bal'agan" and used it in the sentence "your visit has caused a tremendous bal'agan in our city." I was told I could cross the street farther down, and at least ran into a UMD friend on the way. When I got across (after they claimed we had to wait ten minutes until Bush went by) I decided to wait and see it again and invited Alissa to come out with me... but he didn't come. In fact, he only came an hour and a half after that. I wound up seeing it again from Cup O Joe where I found Avi and Jenn on their date. Just kidding, it wasn't a date. I mean at least not in the strictest sense of the word *cough cough*.

There you go, what I think is an entirely positive post. I've been surprisingly busy lately and lots of stuff has been going on. To top that all off my parents are coming for next shabbat!

Baruch Dayan Ha'Emet

2008-01-07T19:31:00.000+02:00

When I came home this afternoon I received an email informing me of the passing of Rabbi Isaiah Wohlgemuth, a longtime teacher at Maimonides School in Boston. You may know him for his book, A Guide to Jewish Prayer. For many years he taught a class on tefilah. My class at Maimonides was the first one that missed out on it. Despite no longer being a teacher at Maimonides, and despite his frail physique, Rabbi Wohlgemuth continued to come to school every single day for several years. His driver would pull up to the school where a student would be waiting to carefully help him out of the car and patiently guide him into the building. Once inside, he would go into shul where another student would help him put on his tefilin. Here in Israel all the buses have a sticker that says "mi'pnei seivah takum," stand up before an elderly/wise person. For many Israelis this may be the one quote from the Torah they know. Many might not even know it's from there. But I think for Israeli children, they learn this important principle from watching their parents and other adults give up their seats for elderly passengers. For Maimonides students, it was learned from Rabbi Wohlgemuth's daily arrival at the school. I think his greatest mitzvah was that he gave so many people the opportunity to do such an important mitzvah for him. It was truly inspiring. Rabbi Wohlgemuth realized that even when he no longer felt up to teaching a formal class at the school his simple presence could teach a tremendous amount. Rabbi Soloveitchik zt"l passed away when I was in third grade, Rabbi Twersky zt"l passed away when I was in eight grade, and now almost ten years later we have lost another great tzaddik and teacher of Boston. This is the end of an era. I hope that future students at Maimonides school and all over continue to find inspiration from his teachings.

May the family and extended community of students of Rabbi Isaiah Wohlgemuth be comforted together with the mourners of Tzion and Yerushalayim.

I'm thinking it's time to share this: My Nefesh B'Nefesh application essay

2008-01-05T18:04:00.000+02:00

I think I started working on this in November 2006 and finished it sometime in January 2007. It took me awhile to figure out what to say and how to say it. As I read it nearly five months after making aliyah, I am really amazed at the foresight I had.

Aliyah Essay

I have been brainwashed by the system. There is really no point in denying it. I went to a Jewish Day School for fourteen years, spent four summers at a Bnei Akiva camp, another summer on an NCSY tour of Israel, and topped that all off with a year at Midreshet HaRova where aliyah forms were filled out more often than shana bet ones. It was all probably really the most efficient way of getting this insane idea in my head that I can pick up and leave a life I’m perfectly happy in for a country with so many obstacles it makes my head spin.
For the past few years I walked around very sure of myself that I was going to make aliyah immediately following graduation from college. This eventually meant facing the practical considerations for making this decision. Israel had to be somewhere I could have a good group of friends, live in a nice community, find good job opportunities, and find a graduate school program that met my needs and interests.
This has led to a series of what I call “good aliyah days” and “bad aliyah days.” A good aliyah day is when I find a long list of programs I would want to work for. I am interested in some combination of social work and education, and there are so many opportunities from after-school programs to children’s homes that I can see myself working in. I know I am good with kids and have a strong desire to make their lives better. In Israel I can help out kids who really need it. I will be helping immigrants to Israel just like me which will add something special to my work. Okay, so I will make far less than the meager salary I would already be making in social services in the United States, but I’m too young and naive to really think about the consequences of that.
Then there are the bad aliyah days. I’m going to miss my family. My little cousin tells me I don’t come over to play enough. My grandma tells me I’m breaking her heart. My roommates will come up with incredible (while truly insane) shenanigans they will do next year and follow it with “it’s just too bad you’re going to miss it.” Or I look up graduate school programs and the website is all in Hebrew and I have no clue what’s going on. Then there are the little things that suddenly become huge, like how much I love seeing the leaves change colors or playing in the snow. There will always be that lingering question– what if I can’t do it? Maybe it just won’t work.
Here’s the plan: I will go to Israel. I will find a good place to live. I’m sure there are nice people in Katamon too. It’s no College Park, but I can make it do. Then I’ll find an ulpan that will really teach me Hebrew so I feel more confident when I step outside every morning. The hardest part will probably be finding a job, but there is always something and I will work my way up from there. During my first year in Israel I will make myself as desirable as I can for the only twenty spaces in that Hebrew University program.
There will probably be a lot of crying, but there will also be shoulders to lean on. My big brother is there, and that’s what big brothers are for, right? I also have my best friend who made aliyah a few years ago. Best of all, everyone is truly rooting for me, and nothing means more than that. In twenty years this will all make sense to me.

Lisa says my blog is too negative...

2008-01-04T11:29:00.000+02:00

... so we discussed why. Maybe it's because of the slightly cynical way I naturally write. Or because it is a simple fact that my life right now is extremely stressful, and my blog is often a way to relieve that stress. Thankfully, despite what my blog entries might at times suggest, I am not depressed. I am more or less doing okay. Sometimes I even have really good days- they're just less fun to write about. Just kidding. One of these days I'm going to post the essay I wrote as part of my Nefesh B'Nefesh application. Surprisingly I was dead on with how (at least emotionally) my first year would be. As for the "accusations of being negative," I'd like to think my observations of the Katamon scene are at least comical, and that people realize there is some list in the making of why I'm glad I made aliyah to go with the post below. In any case, I direct you all to Lisa's recent blog entry (www.israelexperience2007.blogspot.com ) which I feel I can totally relate to and has a bit more of an upbeat tone.

Sometimes I truly wonder why I made aliyah because...

2008-01-03T17:03:00.000+02:00

1. Every errand turns into two errands.
2. Most useful offices are only open until 2pm.
3. The majority of websites don't seem to work.
4. Sunday? What Sunday?
5. We have mold everywhere because the plumber blamed it on the roof guy, the roof guy blamed it on the plumber, and our landlady decided two weeks later that we could hire someone on our own.
6. The bank. See previous blog entries.
7. You have to arrive at your doctors appointment 20 minutes early only to be seen over an hour late.
8. If you need a new prescription you have to go to your doctors office to get the piece of paper to bring to the pharmacy. They can't just call it in for you.
9. When the doctors office lost my file they accused me of making a mistake that I had even been there before.
10. You can't make an appointment more than 24 hours in advance. Want to secure that 2pm appointment for your afternoon off in two weeks? Too bad.
11. No one knows what they're talking about, and their managers know even less.
12. The Jerusalem Post salespeople call me up to three times a day and are outright obnoxious.
13. I used to get paid three times as much to sit and watch TV while someone else's kids slept in the other room.
14. Why don't they sell two liter bottles of milk?
15. The ice cream here sucks.
16. The Katamon social scene. Again, see previous blog entries.
17. Cable costs $50/month and we still get less interesting channels than basic TV in America.
18. Israelis always think they're right. Even when they really, REALLY aren't.
19. The supermarket is organized in the most illogical way. You can find the oil next to the shampoo.
20. Our sink is connected to our washing machine and our shower, and the pipe under our sink was installed upside down (funny, the Israeli workman didn't notice that).

Unwinding

2007-12-23T18:44:00.000+02:00

The stress has not gone away from the nightmare that was last Thursday afternoon, but I'm finally starting to feel better. I had a quiet and relaxing shabbat. And today I got out of Jerusalem. I didn't even realize how much I needed this day away. I went because my friend Pauline, who I used to play with everything single shabbat afternoon for like fifteen years, is here on Birthright. Luckily we got nearly three hours to hang out but I would have gone for five minutes. It's so great seeing a longtime friend from home-- especially one on her first trip to Israel! I would also like to say that today, on December 23, I walked barefoot on the beach and waded into the water. I miss the snow and cold, I really do, but I can't deny that being able to do that today was wonderful. On the bus ride back to Jerusalem I could feel the air slowly getting colder. When I got off the bus my craving for a milk shake turned into one for hot cocoa (which I got- with Jody, who is leaving me, sniff sniff). I've been thinking about what I wrote in my Nefesh B'Nefesh application essay. One thing I wrote was that I knew there would be good days and bad days. I had no idea.

1. a few of the billion reasons I hate the healthcare system here 2. going to a shiur to actually learn Torah

2007-12-20T21:23:00.000+02:00

I think people should have to pay me if they want to aggravate me. Aggravation always results in me spending more money-- whether it is calling someone to vent or needing to spend 41 shekels on dinner because if I don't have a full warm meal I'll have a meltdown. Mental note: never believe anyone who works in a doctors office. The secretary at the first doctors office I went to today told me I could have something done there that it turns out I couldn't. The secretary at another doctors office I went to couldn't find my file and accused me of mistakenly thinking I had been there before. I was there to get a REFILL for a prescription. It seems unlikely under those conditions that I would have forgotten where to go. Then the doctor tells me for the 500th time that he doesn't think I should be on this medication. Sorry, my doctor in the US wins. Loser. After two hours of waiting (at least my ear got taken care of and can hear again) I was on my way back up Rechov Keren Kayemet... tired, dehydrated, hungry, and very cranky. It was the second time since I made aliyah that I was ready to jump on a plane and go home.

On the the latter part of my day... I went with a friend to a shiur at the Begin Center. I decided that despite the cold and rain it was really important that I get out and try to unwind some more. Also it was exciting being able to hear again. The shiur was given by a Tanach professor (didn't catch his name) but had a bit of a musar in it towards the end. I enjoyed it and even understood most of the Hebrew. I am so amused at how many English words are now "Hebrew." It's amazing how many people were there. We got there a little late, and had to sit on the floor. And not only that, it was in a room with a projector set up because the main room was already full. It amazes me that I live in a place where going to a shiur is an ordinary evening activity. The crowd was definitely a mix of both Israelis and Anglos, younger people and older people. And everyone was there for the shiur! I'm sure there was some socializing, but for the most part people sat quietly with their source sheets and gave the professor their full attention. I was impressed, and happy. I admit that my main incentive to go to the Tuesday night shiur again is to see people, but I would prefer to go to a shiur like this. So maybe I will make this a weekly activity. It is down the street after all.

So in the end of the day I am cranky and extremely angry at my constant obstacles with doctors here, thankful for take-out places that make delicious chicken soup, and absolutely grateful for the friends I've found who hear me out and make me feel better.

And it's really funny about Shira's drawing... I will not explain that further.

The lasting effects of Jewish youth groups? My usual rant but this time in print.

2007-12-08T20:11:00.000+02:00

I just got back from a Bnei Akiva Olim shabbaton in Migdal Oz. As I sit here thawing out from the bitter cold, I am thinking about the effects Bnei Akiva (and NCSY, but lets leave that for another blog therapy session) had on my life. I spent four summers at Moshava which for me, as I put it, was a social disaster. Little did I know at age 10 that Jews were different everywhere, and that few even considered hanging out with that lone girl from Boston. No, we did not have a kosher Dunkin' Donuts in Boston, but somehow we managed to remain Jewish anyway. And Boston, contrary to the belief of some, is not in upstate New York. Yeah, that's right, for high school I stayed in the same school I had been in since I was four years old. And I didn't care less about people freaking out about not getting into Ramaz. Camp was a different world, and I'm relieved I came out of it in one piece. In fact considering my social situation there, it's amazing that I enjoyed camp enough to slowly but surely absorb the constant Zionist propaganda being sent my way. There is no doubt that the constant songs, plays, and divrei torah that were all centered on aliyah had an effect on my decision to move here. When I was 10 I chanted "We're gonna make aliyah!" because that's what everyone else was doing, but 13 years later here I am. So what now? On the shabbaton we were essentially used as a focus group for how Bnei Akiva Olami can continue their program with their participants after they make aliyah. "Bnei Akiva shouldn't be over when you step off the plane." Really? Is the idea of a garin aliyah a thing of the past? Bnei Akiva Olami's new goal is to prove it's not. I think I would appreciate it if Bnei Akiva provided more programming for their success stories like me. If Bnei Akiva is what made me do this, I would like to be around other people who were similarly influenced. It could be the same kind of events as Nefesh B'Nefesh, but it would be a different crowd, one I could relate to much different, and... I can only hope... maybe more of an aliyah event and less of a singles scene. Despite the social nightmare that was Moshava-IO, I do feel a connection to my former fellow campers. But not enough to go start a yishuv with them. What's the point of a Bnei Akiva yishuv anyway? Isn't like every yishuv in this country heavily influenced by Bnei Akiva? I'm thankful to Bnei Akiva for their brainwashing- I really am- but it's time for them to let go. I think a lot of us at the shabbaton felt the same way. They should be there when we need them, and we will need them, but we're going to make our own plans and have our own lives. As I said to a fellow co-counselor from Ennismore, I have no doubt that a significant amount of Toronto olim will wind up living in the same place. Bnei Akiva forged connections between many of us, and those connections did not at all disappear when we arrived here. It's too bad we couldn't get our points across. Idealism is great, but not when it stops being practical. I waited years for Bnei Akiva to return to Boston, and it only did so last year. What are their priorities? We're already here; now they can go brainwash more American children. Seriously. They shouldn't be so disappointed that the olim don't want to move out to a development town and change the world. We'll be okay. Some of us will even do amazing things. And for those of us who move to a yishuv, our kids one day will do Bnei Akiva too. Bnei Akiva is a youth group for a reason. Okay my rant is over now.

Yet another night out in the Katamon scene: The Tuesday Night Shiur Chanukah Party

2007-12-06T23:10:00.000+02:00

Well, it was exactly like the Tuesday night shiur, just more food and no Torah. And I knew a couple more girls there. Yup, that's about it. A packed apartment of people who came to socialize except this time didn't have to sit through a shiur first. It's funny when I think about it that way.

I've also learned that quite a few people I've met here have cars. Very useful information. Don't worry Shaun, the t-shirts for your entourage will be ready next week.

Another night out in the Katamon scene: The Tuesday Night Shiur

2007-11-28T13:05:00.000+02:00

Last night, with much encouragement from a friend to be social and get out more, I attended the Tuesday night shiur in Katamon. The apartment was packed. So many people came... to learn Torah? Hm, maybe. I knew about two thirds of the guys there and exactly one girl. I recognized many of the other guys, but not any of the girls. This was not at all surprising to me. As I mentioned in a previous post, the social dynamic doesn't seem to allow for girls to befriend each other easily. And what I'm finding to be too true is that guy-girl friendships/relationships here are outright complicated. But anyway... I was intrigued by the shiur. I'm glad so many people work Torah into their week, even if it's just to hit on each other during the break. Then there was the after party. Who knew a shiur could have an after party? A few of us went to a nearby cafe for drinks and shmoozing. Guess I can't make fun of it too much. It's near impossible to put a social life together here. And I guess shlepping out to Palmach an extra night a week isn't the worst idea for me.

A couple anecdotes

2007-11-26T20:07:00.000+02:00

I decided to take advantage of my recent publicity (check out http://www.israelity.com/?p=4092 -- they claim I used the word kitsch... not sure I would even know how) and post a couple other stories/observations from the past few days. I suppose there are connections one can make between the two about what people are like in this country. If you care to, leave a comment.

On Friday my brother and I made the obligatory trip to the cemetery to visit the graves of our grandmother's sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. I saw a grave with a sign posted above it (and not just any sign- a nice gold one with clear black letters) declaring that the person laid to rest in that kever forbid any of his relatives from coming to visit his grave until they were chozrim b'teshuvah. Following this statement was a "to-do list" of necessary actions such as giving charity and changing their sinful ways.

Today I received yet another call from the Jerusalem Post. The Post is famous for terrible customer service. I had already expressed my dissatisfaction to the last person who called and requested that they hold off for awhile. Most of my trial issues had not arrived, and I was outright insulted when in response to me saying that I could not afford a subscription, the salesperson asked if I had a relative who could pay for it as a gift. Today when they called and I heard who it was I immediately said "no thank you" and hung up. Now in the US this happens all the time and the telemarketer goes to the next person on the list. Not here. I immediately got another phonecall from them, pressed the reject button, and a minute later had a voicemail with an angry Israeli woman telling me that it is horribly rude to hang up on somebody. Rude. Ha.