Pictures speak louder than words

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.