Monday, February 23, 2009

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.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

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.

Monday, January 26, 2009

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.

Monday, January 12, 2009

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.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

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.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

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.

Friday, December 5, 2008

"Transitional" "Objects"


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.