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.