The City of Gold and White

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

There's some catching up to do

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baruch Dayan Ha'Emet

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

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

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

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

Aliyah Essay

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

Lisa says my blog is too negative...

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

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

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