Callie's Adventures in the Holy Land

My new love of the Tel Aviv beach

2008-04-19T06:07:00.000-07:00

I realize it's been a long time since my last post - and as one friend said, "I feel like the window into your world is closing". Tad melodramatic, but I get the point.

So what have I been up to? Weeeell... I'll tell you: going to the beach in Tel Aviv. About a month ago, right around Purim, the weather took a suddenly springtime-y turn, and while it was lovely in Jerusalem, the promise of sun and sand that lay only 45 minutes down the hill won out. Purim weekend, ages ago now, I know, afforded me my first 2008 opportunity to hang out on the beach in Tel Aviv. I hadn't really been there since August, and to be quite frank, Tel Aviv in August was too much heat and humidity for this pale-faced girl from the Pacific Northwest. But Tel Aviv in March... ah... that's something different!

A few friends and I decided to spend a part of the looooong Purim weekend (Purim fell over Shabbat, so it was super long... Purim Meshulash)
The beaches were absolutely packed, and many people were dressed in costume. Although beach attire in Tel Aviv is suspect on a regular day - so we played a fun game: Costume or No? At any rate, that weekend was the start of my love of lying on the beach and doing nothing. Growing up in Portland, and spending beach time at Cannon Beach, Gearhart, and Seaside, didn't really afford me any love of loafing in the sun. While mom was turning Nubian in the Cannon Beach sand dunes, I was usually complaining and wanting to play in the ocean. I was always a water-baby and hated sunbathing. Probably because I would always get burnt (thanks to the dad-genes winning out over the darker and more melatonin-filled mom-genes). But ah... the joys of SPF 15!

Anyway, I sort of regret not having spent more time in Tel Aviv this year - I mean, it's a REAL city. The paragon of Israeli-ness. Jerusalem often feels like a village - I see the same people everywhere, I go to the same restaurants and cafes, and tend to just take advantage of the fact that I live here and am here during the week. Fridays have turned into my Tel Aviv days. In fact, if there's a week where I cannot get to TA, I'm usually not particularly happy about it (read: I am like a petulant 5 year old who isn't getting what she wants). So I look at it this way: I know the Jerusalem that I know and love, I've formed a bond with the city - we have an understanding of sorts... and now I'm starting an additional relationship. It's not that I'm cheating on Jerusalem, I'm just broadening my appreciation of Israel... and the beach.

That being said, when we do go to Tel Aviv for the day, we tend to hit the same spots: the Mexican restaurant (YES! Mexican food!!!! Well, as close to the real thing as one is going to get in Israel - it's owned by two sisters from Pasadena), Rehov Sheinkin (a shop and cafe lined street near the heart of town), Nachalat Binyamin (the artist's market that sets up shop every Tuesday and Friday), and Frischman beach. As beach culture is foreign to me, my funny bone is completely struck by the regulars who appear every week at this particular beach. There's the "old Artik (Ice cream) guy", the "young and cute Artik guy", the "massage guy" (yes there are roaming masseurs on this beach - kinda gross, but also kinda hilarious), the "Elvis guy" who roams around with his guitar on his back and crazy Elvis hair and sideburns who will serenade you - probably for a fee... I don't know, we've never availed ourselves of his services. There's "creepy curly haired guy" - unfortunately we've had the pleasure of his conversation... once. And the list goes on... and while it is funny, it's also sort of comforting.

We get to the beach, usually after lunch, find ourselves some loungers (and an umbrella for me, for as while SPF 15 certainly does help - this Souther-girl still needs her shade), and sleep, read, do homework - so as not to feel so guilty about being in Tel Aviv - and enjoy the sunny side of Israel.

So, in brief, that's what I've been up to: studying in Jerusalem during the week, and then getting to Tel Aviv as soon as possible (i.e. when I am willing to get out of bed) on Friday morning.

Tonight starts the holiday of Pesach (Passover). I've got some ruminations on that one up my sleeve, so stay tuned.

Hag Sameach (Happy Holiday) and Much love from the Holy Land.

Sad Night in Jerusalem

2008-03-06T15:00:00.000-08:00

Earlier tonight there was what is being classified as a terrorist attack on an Orthodox Yeshiva in Jerusalem. As Jerusalem is a small city, I can't say that the shooting was nowhere near my place, but it was far enough away for me to not feel immediately threatened.

Just before I received the email from a classmate alerting us to the situation, I had heard a slew of sirens outside. I just assumed that Condie was leaving the King David (she's here, presumably for a round of "talks") and didn't give the disturbance outside a second though. After reading the article about the shooting and the response it garnered from nearly 50 ambulances in the area, I understand that the noise outside my window was no mere motorcade.

Reading the front page of the online version of Haaretz Magazine, a left-leaning Israeli Newspaper, and one of my favorite sources of news in Israel, proves to be a particularly saddening exercise this evening.
"Eight killed in terrorist attack at J'lem Yeshiva,"
"Officials: Terrorist was East Jerusalem Resident."
"Abbas slams Jerusalem attack; Israel: Peace talks will go on."
"J'lem yeshiva student: I shot the terrorist twice in the head."

And the list goes on...

... I can't help but be reminded of last summers' Jewish Federation shooting in Seattle, WA. And let's be honest, the two events are far from unrelated. To refresh your memory, in short, last summer a Muslim man forced his way into the Jewish Federation building in downtown Seattle, said something along the lines of "I'm a Muslim man and I'm mad at Israel" and then opened fire, injuring 3 (I think) and killing one. The difference, you might say, is that incident was in Seattle far from the boiling cauldron that is Israel.

I've spent the past 9 months assuring friends, family, and those secret anti-Israel (and I'll say it, anti-semites) among the former, that Israel is a safe place. It's not the war-torn area that you might see on CNN - in fact, turn off your TV. Turn it off right now. The international news media is working backwards in their reporting of the situation in this part of the world: they have their conclusion, now they are just setting the stage to prove it. But I digress... I've spent the last 9 months, perhaps the last two years, educating and reassuring people about the general safety of Jerusalem. "Most of the trouble is down South," I said two years ago during the disengagement. "Most of the trouble is up North, now" I said last summer during the Lebanon war. And once again this year "Most of the trouble is down South - Jerusalem is fine. Jerusalem is safe." Well, as one of my friends' status reads on her internet instant messenger "safe is a relative term." A lesson we, sitting high up in Jerusalem, learned first hand - again - this evening.

I'm not quite sure what message I'm trying to convey here, dear reader, other than the deep sadness that I feel tonight. I love this country. I particularly love this city. This maddening city of extremes. Being a woman studying to be a Rabbi in this city can be a very alienating and polarizing experience. I would be lying if I said that my attitude towards the Orthodox and Haredi communities here has been made softer in my time here. In fact, I'd say the exact opposite has ocurred. I've come to feel that the things that divide us as Jews are greater than the things that unite us. I was happy in that prejudice - or at least comfortable in it. Then, someone went ahead and attacked these people - my people - in my city - in my country - in my home. Whether or not the victims of this attack choose to include me as a member of Am Yisrael - I choose to understand that an attack against them is, in essence, an attack against all of us.

Since the shooting, I've been listening to Israeli Army radio station, Galgalatz. Galgalatz usually has an eclectic mix of music - but this evening I experienced what I'd only read about: the sadness of a country broadcast over the radio. Mixed in with a number of sad and mournful Israeli melodies, was Eric Clapton's "Tears in Heaven" (a bit much, in my opinion), and just now, Dylan singing "Blowin' in the Wind." This is not a country full of war-mongers, or even hate-mongers. This is a country made of two peoples who want to live. People who are tired of seeing their children die. What I find interesting is that, for the past year or more, the communities surrounding the Gaza Strip, particularly the town of Sderot, have been dealing with attacks from kassamim, and have been living in constant fear, but that's Sderot. Or Ashkelon. Or any-far-from-here place. Jerusalem though... Jerusalem where buses and cafes were being blown up every-other-day during the early years of this decade. A terrorist attack in Jerusalem just brings up too many memories. Too many losses. I'm not saying that 8 deaths in Jerusalem are more worrisome or saddening than 30 in Sderot, or in Gaza for that matter. I am saying that the quiet we've enjoyed here for the past 9 months has been broken - and Jerusalem, this holy city, has once again become a target - and this, more than most anything else that has happened since I've been here, makes me lose a little bit of hope for this region and its pursuit of peace. Most of all - it just makes me sad.

Below is a Prayer for the Peace of Israel, that has been running through my head the past few hours. Thank you for listening to my rant. Be angry. Be sad. Be upset. Just don't be indifferent, and don't be fooled by the international news media: the situation here is far from black and white.

אבינו שבשמים צור ישראל וגואלו. ברך את מדינת ישראל ראשית צמיחת גאלתנו...

"Our Divine Guardian, Rock and Redeemer of Israel, bless the State of Israel, beginning of the flowering of our redemption. Shield it beneath the wings of Your steadfast love and spread over it the shelter of Your peace. May a spark of Your spirit inspire the actions of its President, Prime Minister, officials, judges and advisors. Enable them to understand the rightness of Your judgements. Strengthen the hands of those who build and protect Your Holy Land. Plant within us love, friendship and mutual acceptaince; uproot hatred, hostility and jealousy from among us.

Be near to all the people of Israel throughout the lands in which we dwell. Unite our hearts to love and revere Your name. Shine forth in your glorious majesty over all inhabitants of Your world and speedily fulfill the vision of Your prophet: "Nation will not lift up sword against nation, nor will they learn war anymore."

Wandering the Desert

2008-03-05T07:34:00.001-08:00

So, here are some stories to accompany the pictures of last week's HUC trip to the Arava Valley in the Negev Desert. We left bright and early on Wednesday morning and headed, well... south. I can't recall much from the first day, other than the feeling that all we did was stop to use the restroom. This trip was much less history-oriented than the past two HUC trips, and more focused on the geographical wonders of the Negev Desert. In fact, the only time that a faculty member stood in front of us for an explanation was for a few minutes in Sde Boker where Ben Gurion "made the desert bloom".

We spent the afternoon hiking around the machtesh, a very special kind of nature-made crater. The entire area of the Arava Valley was made by the Syrian-African rift. As such, there are all sorts of crazy natural phenomena that occur there. Wow... I learned something! We had two amazing educators, our "Desert Roses" - both doing their national service, sheirut leumi, an alternative to military service for women of army age. The amount of knowledge these young women had about the desert was incredibly impressive. Also impressive was the lack of whining (overall) that came from our group. I thought it was going to be a four day kvetch-fest, but surprisingly, everyone seemed to really have a good time!

Kibbutz Yahel was our homebase. The first reform kibbutz in the country, Yahel is 30 years old and going strong. What I found so interesting about this kibbutz is the changing demographic. As it is a 30 year old kibbutz, most of the children of the members are now starting to have children of their own (and not that many seem to be doing so on the kibbutz itself). The kibbutz is dealing with this challenge in, what I thought to be, an interesting way - by opening up the community to non-members (most of whom are not Reform Jews). The kibbutz does still have a strong agricultural drive, but, like most kibbutzim today, many members work outside of the community in non-agricultural enterprises. Yahel's main produce are dates, pomelos, watermelon, scallions (??) and milk. Other than that, the kibbutz itself is beautiful. It felt like a mixture of camp and... for some reason... the Oregon Coast. :-)

The second day of the trip was the hard-core hiking day. There were three hiking options, I opted for the "medium-difficulty". We had a small group - which was nice, especially considering the amount of down-hill climb we had. A larger group just would have made me nervous. Our educator was great at knowing when to stop, give us breaks, and do a little bit of desert education. The first 30 minutes of the hike were uphill, and I mean straight up. For those of you who have seen the second Lord of the Rings: you know those "stairs" that Gollum leads Frodo and Sam up? Yeah.... it felt like that. Only shorter. Once that was over, however, the rest of the hike was downhill into a dried out riverbed, or wadi. My favorite moment of the hike, and trust me - there were many favorites, was when we were climbing down a dried out waterfall. The waterfall led into a canyon. The scene itself was beautiful, and when Ronni, our guide, pointed to the waterfall and said "that's what we're climbing down. It's perfectly safe, just watch your step." (I think she also said "Don't worry, no one has died doing this" to which the guard responded "yet" funny Israelis...) So, we were climbing down this dried out waterfall (see pictures) into a canyon. I was pretty well freaked out, but on auto-pilot, as there was no other way down. Deeply concentrating on my next step, I was towards the back of the group, still, freaking out, when suddenly one of my classmates belted out in his baritone voice, "Deeeey-Oh. Dee-eh-eh-oh. Daylight come and me won go hoooooooome." Best moment of the trip. Laughing, we all managed to make it down the waterfall and into the wadi for our walk out through the Red Canyon.

Now... here's my one gripe about the trip. After a full day of hiking, in the sun (the weather was amazing, by the way) where did HUC take us? Back to Kibbutz Yahel for a nice shower and a comfortable bed to sleep in? Nope. They took us to a "Bedouin Tent" I say that in "" because it wasn't run by Bedouins - it was just for the experience. Boy was it some experience. I wasn't so into it. I was sore, tired, and granted - they had showers - but they weren't quite what I wanted after a long day of hiking. Now, I'm usually a heavy sleeper, but I couldn't get to sleep in this tent. Picture it: One big tent, pitch black, with 50-some-odd HUC students, their significant others, and faculty, sleeping on the floor. It felt like a NFTY shul-in ... in the desert. One amazing thing about the location of this tent is that it was so far from civilization that there was hardly any ambient light blocking the stars. I haven't seen stars like that since camp. It looked like a planetarium and was amazing. But I digress. Anyhow... I woke up after a fitful night of sleep in a fake Bedouin tent smelling like real goat... riddle me that.

After the tent, we spent the morning at Kibbutz Lotan. The second Reform Kibbutz in Israel, just outside of Eilat. The kibbutz is doing some amazing things in the area of ecology and green-building. We spent the morning touring their eco-areas, and we got our hands dirty making mud bricks. I forget how much I enjoy playing in the mud until I'm actually in it. The thing is, I like getting dirty and being "at one" with nature... but then I really like a nice hot shower and a warm fluffy towel - and bed. :-) Like my friend Adam (the farm-boy) said, "I like playing in the mud, but at home we have a separate mud-room, we don't track it around with us all day".

After Lotan we headed down to Eilat for some snorkeling. Now, I'm not going to lie, dear reader. I did not snorkel. No, about 6 of us defected to another Bedouin Tent - this one across the street from the beach where our classmates were frolicking underwater - which had, according to our friend Hannah, really amazing pita. There were 6 of us, all women, all decked in our hiking/beach wear. We were the only people in the tent, and, of course, the owner sat down to schmooze with us. The best part of the entire interaction was when Yussef, our host, told my friend Aimee that he would give her father 400 camels for her. He proceeded to tell us that we were all "good" but Aimee was "the best" that she had a big heart - he could tell. He wrote Aimee a note wishing her much success. While it was sweet in the end, there were some moments where we weren't sure how appropriate the conversation, or the interaction itself, was. Ah, random moments in bedouin tents. I also saw a man riding one camel, and leading another, while wearing an Oklahoma sweatshirt. Confusing? Yes. Amazing? Yes indeed!

We made our way back to Kibbutz Yahel for a restful Shabbat. For some reason, the patio outside our room, and the hammock outside our room ("our hammock"... Aimee and I got very protective over the hammock that was clearly on our "property"), turned into one of the party spots. I recall a lot of singing... and wine drinking... and game playing. All in all... a lovely erev shabbat. The next day we woke up somewhat early again for a shabbat "hike" and pray. Not my bag. But then I got a nice shabbat nap - and felt much better. We should have just spent Saturday night on the kibbutz, but instead we loaded into the buses around 6:30 and made it home to Jerusalem by 10:30. Crazy bus driver - but his haste was appreciated once I was in my own bed by 11.

So... that's the exciting trip to the Negev!

Trip through the Negev

2008-03-02T11:48:00.000-08:00

Here are some photos from our recent HUC class trip (tiyul) down south to the Negev and the Arava Valley. Will write some stories later - too tired now. Fun... but tiring!

Me and Aimee at Sde Boker - the home and resting place of David Ben Gurion. I was excited. Day 1.

About to climb up Har Nesher and down into the Red Canyon. Mixed Feelings. Day 2.
Daniel, Me, Hannah, Jen, Rachel and Laura.

That's Har Nesher - Yeup, I climbed that. Naysayers, you may "nay"... but I conquered that rocky terrain.
See?? (That's me, second to last in line... there were others behind the photographer though)

And then we had to climb back down...

And down... This part happened to be a dried-out waterfall. Scary? Yes. Awesome? Yes.

Hiking through the Red Canyon was beautiful and amazing, but this sign really made my day.

And up again - Laura hiking out of the Red Canyon while Aimee and I wait our turn. Like on the Playground. In fact, the Red Canyon is pretty much an Israeli playground.

All showered and tired and happy post-hike at the Bedouin "tent" in Shacharut.
Yaya (our "security guard" and new friend), Aimee, Me, Lyle and Rachel.

And that's all for now, folks! Stories to follow soon!

New Blog Post

2008-02-19T04:21:00.000-08:00

Well, two friends have mentioned my blog in the past 24 hours - which I guess is a sign that I need to update it. Sadly, as I think about my life over the past two weeks, there isn't a whole lot of stuff that is blog-appropriate nor worthy, in my mind, of y'alls time. But I suppose I can think of something.

.....

So! The snow storm passed.... only to be replaced by another. Snow! Twice in Jerusalem in one month! What is happening to the world! This snow is a little less pervasive than the last, and as I've worked out my snow protection program, it's a bit easier to deal with. That being said, Jerusalem has treated us to some of it's most beautiful spring-preview weather. The weather between snow storms was the stuff California dreams are made of. Clear, sunny, warm-ish, and spring-inspiring. All those fun springtime feelings popped up for just a minute before being dashed away under a layer of snow, rain, and winds-like-you-wouldn't-believe. Sticking true to my colors, I've been trying to get out and enjoy this city. I got my fall semester grades and was inspired by them to say "ok, I've got the student thing down - now I'm going to get the Israel thing down." How is that going - one might ask. Well, in terms of getting out and meeting Israelis, I think it's going rather well. In terms of getting out of Jerusalem.... eeeeeeeh.... not so good.

I, like many of my classmates, sit on a variety of "committees" - of course, by some cosmic joke, all of my committees require copious amounts of time, effort, and each of them requires planning a Shabbaton. Now, my years of working for Hillel have made me a good event planner in terms of the tachlis, the details, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I enjoy spending my time thusly. Yes... I said "thusly". No no... I'm not griping. Well, yes I am. But I guess this is what you get when you ask me for a blog during a time when there's obviously not much about which to "blog".

In other news: I've been playing my guitar more. It's pretty much been sitting in its case in the living room, gathering dust for the past few months. But a new friend has inspired me to make music again - which, since the weather is so gross and there's not much that I'm willing to schlep out into the rain to do - has been a good use of time. That and studying, of course.

OH! And the most exciting bit of news: my dearest darling friend Casey from Seattle came to Israel on birthright! Which was exciting to me for a variety of reasons, the foremost being: a) I got to see him again, and b) he got a taste of this Israel place. Casey also traveled with a great group of people, so while I got to spend some quality time with my old friend, I also made a few new friends in the process. It's always good to have friends, no?

So there's my update. It's pretty pareve but it's what is going on. When something really and truly exciting happens, I'll let you know. But right now, it's business as usual in the Holy Land.

Snow: not as fun as it used to be.

2008-01-30T04:00:00.000-08:00

It seems as though I'm being stalked by snow.

I was home in Portland for two weeks of winter vacation. No snow. Not one flake. The entire time. Wait... that's a lie. Sorry, I just lied to you, dear reader. I encountered a few flakes in Vancouver, WA on my drive up to Seattle. But these flakes were pretty harmless, and once I made it past Ridgefield, there was nary a flake to be seen. Seattle showed me its' range of weather. In the four days I was there we had rain, cold, and sun... but no snow. Which was fine by me, as I had people to see, places to eat, and jeans to purchase. Snow would have thrown a wrench right in those plans.

Portland weather was fantastic as well. We got a week of beautiful sunshine. Cold clear days. Perfect for running around and seeing family and friends... and of course, shopping with mom. But then, my very last night in Portland, we got snowfall. I didn't even get to enjoy it! My mom came into my room in the morning to wake up and tell me, excitedly, that there was snow on the ground. This is a routine we used to have when I was growing up: we'd hear the evening newscaster say something hokey about the incoming "storm" and all the kids waiting to hear for school closures, I'd go to sleep with high hopes of snow on our already treacherous driveway undoubtedly preventing me from going to school, wake up in the middle of the night, look out my window and see the flakes falling in the light cast by the street lamp on Vista. I would run back into bed and hunker down, knowing that my day would be spent at home. In the morning, mom would come in and excitedly say "there's snow! it's sticking!" The morning would proceed with sleeping in, hot chocolate, and daytime soap operas. How fun, right!?

This past Monday, however, when mom came in with the pup to tell me that there was snow on the ground, my first thought was "aw man..." - as I had a flight out that afternoon. My brother came up the hill in his Suburban beast and took me out to breakfast. By the time we got home, traffic was moving as usual, and the snow was really just a bunch of extra travel stress. Sad.

I landed in Tel Aviv Wednesday afternoon, and could have sworn that I saw tiny snow flakes mixed in with the rain out the airplane window. Snow? In Tel Aviv? No way. But lo and behold, not twelve hours later, Jerusalem is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Which, from the window looks very picturesque and fluffy and snowy and fun. But in reality, is just a bunch of slush waiting to soak you through to the bone. School went ahead today as planned - although, to HUC's credit, they did shorten the day to let us get home. I must say, I never knew that snow could be so wet! We all looked like a bunch of wet dogs when as we trickled into school this morning. Each with his or her own particular brand of grievance and/or snow-protection plan. (My favorite being a classmate-who-shall-remain-nameless putting plastic grocery bags over his shoes. Brilliant, actually). As today was the first day of the new semester, I decided to put my best foot forward and actually dress up. Stupid idea, as I wound up looking like overdressed-wet-dog. From here on out, as long as this gray slush lies between me and the rest of the world, it's longjohns, sweats, and rain pants all the way. Hmph!

This all leads me to my new view on snow. I'm sure you've already come to this conclusion, but I'm just coming to it, so... I'm slow.

Snow is great fun times, unless:
1 - you have to be somewhere, and
2 - you don't have a car... with ice tires.
3 - you don't have any food in the house and both you and your obnoxious kitten are hungry.

Otherwise, I say "hooray for snow!"

However, at the moment, I say "Down with snow!"

George W. Bush (almost) Ruined My Day.... almost

2008-01-09T05:37:00.001-08:00

It is such a strange feeling to be done with finals... I mean, it's a great feeling. A little strange b/c I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. Also a little strange b/c winter finals being done used to mean going home for Christmas vacation. Now, I am in fact going home, but Christmas, and the Christmas season has long since passed. I will be surprised if they are still serving the "Holiday Season" drinks at Starbucks - surprised, but excited.

ANYWAY, so, George W. Bush is in town, as some of you might know. What you probably don't know, what they don't show on the news, is that Jerusalem feels like it's under marital law. At least my part of Jerusalem does - because I live right between the Prime Minister's house and the King David Hotel, where the Big Man is staying. Not only is he staying at the King David, but members of his entourage numbering in the hundreds, at least! The neighborhood has been gradually shut down the past few days. And, I guess, before I get too far into my rant I should list the two things that I can thank Mr. Bush for: 1) the construction behind my house (lies between my house and the King David Hotel) has been shut down for the duration of the week. This week being finals week. Which means that I've been able to sleep-in in peace. Which leads me to my next "thing to thank Bush for" 2) As school is right next door to the King David, sort of, it is closed today and tomorrow. Which means that our liturgy final today was moved to Yad Ben Tzvi (the first house in which the President of Israel lived, which happens to have a big lecture hall). That's not what I'm thankful for... in fact.. finding that place was an unneccessary added stressor to the morning. No, what I CAN thank the man for, is the fact that tomorrow's Biblical Grammar test was made into a take-home. Which means that I did it last night. Which means that I'm DONE! I'm done with my first semester of Rabbinical school. Which is crazy... But I digress from the Bush-induced crazy.

First of all, as I said, my neighborhood is pretty much entirely shut down. All of the streets and some of the sidewalks are cordoned off. There are police officers and soldiers every 10 feet. No, every 5 feet. My afternoon was ALMOST ruined by the motorcade preparations. I was trying to get to Rechavia to meet with two friends who are also DONE for lunch. Now, this restaurant on Azza St has been talked up to me by numerous people, so I was not ready to settle for anything less. Luckily, the motorcade went by, in all it's glory - with a few mini-buses-to-boot, and then they opened up the intersection to pedestrian traffic.

It's difficult to convey the feeling of Jerusalem without traffic. There's always traffic in Jerusalem. Even on Shabbat. As I was standing huddled in front of the Conservative Yeshiva, with the masses of angry Israelis (and a few annoyed Americans, like myself) waiting to get where we needed to go, I overheard at least three different people say "oy! zeh c'mo Shabbat!" Which I was thinking, but even then, there's more traffic on Keren HaYesod and King George on Shabbat than there was today. A few minutes later when we were finally allowed to walk, the entire intersection just filled up with pedestrians. Now, this intersection is one of the worst in Jerusalem, if not in Israel. It takes a good 15 minutes to cross on foot, as there are about a bajillion different ways that traffic can go. The ENTIRE intersection was people walking wherever they needed to go. In that respect, it was pretty cool. Although I still wound up waiting at that intersection for the motorcade to pass... Anyway, I digress. A few yards up the road, on a smaller more residential street, people were still just walking in the street. I overheard a soldier say "c'mo Yom Kippur" - so true! Yom Kippur is the only other time I've seen the streets this devoid of traffic! Yom Bush and Yom Kippur.

It just feels like such a strange day! The grey clouds overhead don't help the eerie quiet that has fallen over this part of the city. It's also weird that "my" President, is closer and having a greater impact on my daily life here, in Jerusalem, than he ever has been living in the Pacific Northwest. He may have made me late for lunch, but at least I still have my reproductive rights. For now.

And... in other news: I'm done with the semester!!!! And will be home in four days for a visit. I can't wait to be home, and it's nice to feel that I've accomplished something in these past 7ish months, but I'm sad to be leaving Israel. I know I will be back in two weeks - I'm just now worried about how hard it is going to be to leave in the Summer. I will cross that bridge when I get to it... unless Bush is in town. In which case I'll have to go around.

Ezrie

2007-12-23T13:02:00.000-08:00

I "adopted" a kitten! My friends Evan and Jenny were housing a kitten that they'd rescued, and needed to find a home for her. After a bunch of people had met her and fallen in love with her, but been unable to take her, I took a clue from fate, worked out some logistics, and voila - I now am the proud imma of a three-month-old Israeli tabby. She is adorable, and, while we're still getting used to one another, are getting along swimmingly! I've not had a kitten in a while, so I'm constantly amazed by the kitten energy and how easily she can keep herself amused. She's a love, and has the motor of a racecar (or something else with a really loud motor).

Bottom line, I'm happy and she is adorable (and I think she's pretty happy too).

Her name is Ezrie, which means "my help" in Hebrew - I call her "Ez" and it seems to fit. Except when she's being a pain. :-)

Learning how to grieve with an open heart.

2007-12-16T13:05:00.000-08:00

They say that the best place to get sick is in a hospital - surrounded by doctors. I think that, perhaps, the best place to learn of a loss is in Rabbinical school. Let me qualify that: perhaps the best place to mourn is in a place that brings you the support that you need.

In my "immediate" family there have always been, what are in my mind "The Big Three Aunts," - this past week, one of those "Big Three" left her physical existence on this earth. What I now understand is that the pillar that was her existence in my life will always be there. The gifts which she bestowed upon me, both physical and not, will always remain. She fostered in me a love of literature, as she was the self proclaimed Book Aunty, an appreciation of the spirituality of beauty and an understanding of our family history.

One of the hardest parts of this loss, for me, is being so far from home while grieving. If I were home, my grief would be no less profound nor difficult, but I would have the built in support of my family. Here, I have had to challenge myself to reach out for support - and have been rewarded greatly by the outpouring of help, love, and comfort. A large part of my choosing this path in life has been my desire, and in fact, my instinct to care for others. When I came to Jerusalem, I hoped that this year would give me the opportunity to really return unto myself - to examine who I am, and what I am about. I never expected challenges the likes of which Jerusalem has presented. I've come to understand that I have an incredibly difficult time asking for help when I need it - to a fault. Blessedly, while coming to terms with this aspect of my personality, I've also been able to take steps to change that behavior. As often comes when we truly take steps to make change, I've been rewarded, if not perhaps in the ways that I would have envisioned. Friends here, both within and without the HUC community, have been present to help as I stumble blindly through this period of mourning.

Another, and equally challenging part of this loss for me has been the understanding that, while my family continues to expand with births and marriages, it is going to, inevitably, begin to shrink as well. This current loss is the first I've experienced in the generation of women who, in my mind, have been ever-present. I keep saying that I do not know how to exist in a world where she does not - not because we were constantly in contact, but because knowing that she was there, as a part of my history, present, and future was simply a given. Now that she is not, I am forced to come to terms with the imminent reality of death and loss that every family must face.

What I am grateful for are those around me who have responded when I have reached out, either tentatively or overtly, and those who have stepped in with a caring hand when I've not asked for it, but obviously needed it. I stood on my balcony tonight after having passed the last few hours with an old friend and a bottle of wine, and had one of those moments of peace that I so rarely have with Jerusalem, and God. I'm pretty comfortable in my conception of the Divine, and God's presence in my life - but I rarely open the window that leads from theory to experience. I breathed in the crisp and cold Jerusalem air and suddenly felt the warmth of understanding that, while I am far from my family of origin, I am never far from my family of choice. I am so lucky that I have been rewarded for opening my heart by an immediate in-pouring of affection and support.

This journey of mourning will be difficult and long, it's not supposed to be easy. Mostly it will be difficult to come to terms with my own personal loss, and our loss as a family - the selfish griefs that come with mourning. Meanwhile, I'm grateful for the gift that I've been given of opening my heart to let others in, instead of the reverse - which is usually a much easier process for me. I'm quicker to give than I am to receive. Jerusalem has taught be how to receive, has forced me to learn how. A lesson of tough-love from a country full of both toughness and love - if only I'm willing to open and welcome the gifts of those around me.

Thanksgiving in Israel

2007-11-24T06:15:00.000-08:00

I'd always envisioned that this year's Thanksgiving would be a pathetic attempt at capturing the "authentic" American Thanksgiving experience. I am an incredibly picky Thanks-giver, as for me, the holiday is really all about the food. I mean, in terms of the Jewish calendar, we've just given a lot of thanks during the harvest holiday of Sukkot, so, by November, I'm feeling like my thanks-giving of two months prior still holds. So, Thanksgiving is really just a big ol dose of American gluttony for me. Every year, my mother makes not one, not two, but three types of stuffing: one for Stan, because he likes sweet stuffing, and two for me - matzoh meal stuffing, and sage stuffing. The matzoh meal stuffing is really my Grammie Claire's passover recipe, but I mean, it's so good... and Thanksgiving and Passover are so spread apart that I tend to like to having one dose of artery-clogging matzoh meal stuffing in the spring, and one in the winter. Then, we have the Grammie Souther style stuffing - traditional sage stuffing. Lots of butter, lots of onions, celery, and... sage. It's just not thanksgiving w/out sage, in my opinion.

So, as you can guess, I was dubious at best about the ability of an ex-pat Thanksgiving dinner to live up to my exacting standards. And, friends, I must admit... I stand in awe of the Thanksgiving dinner that was had this past week. Now, I would never say that the food was better than my mother's cooking, because that would be blasphemous - however, it was pretty darn close! I was invited to two separate dinners, so, naturally, I divided up the evening into "dinner" and "dessert". The dinner was impecably done. The Turkey was amazing, and there were enough stuffing options to satisfy my stuffing-needs! Miracle of miracles! The party was lovely, and I certainly had to take it slow on the block-long walk to the "dessert" party. After slowly dragging myself up 6 flights of stairs, I arrived at the second dinner just as the majority of the guests were leaving. (I tend to have that effect on parties, given the mass exodus upon my arrival at a friends' party last week... hmmm). I had come over from the first party with my friends Adam and Suzy, and had been moaning about my painful state of full-ness during the schlep up the stairs. I planted myself on the couch, and was as close to lying down as one can be while still sitting up. One of our hostesses placed a plate of the most amazing looking desserts in front of me, and I, obedient guest that I am, slowly raised a fork of pumpkin cheesecake to my reluctant mouth. Just as I was doing so, Suzy walked into the living room and burst out laughing at the pathetic scene that I had created on the couch. The picture of reluctant gluttony. Ah, Thanksgiving.

We sat around playing the, now famous amongst the HUC community, "bowl game" - which always makes for a hilarious situation. The game itself is sort of a cross between Taboo and Charades. As expected, the game led to a lot of really very full bellied laughter and some good natured competition (my team won - so I can say "good natured competition").

One thing for which I was most certainly thankful was the fact that Fridays are a day off in Israel. It had been one thing to sit in class all day Thursday, instead of sitting at home in my pajamas watching the Macy's Day parade. It would have been another thing entirely if I were expected to be a functioning human being the next morning. I woke up with the biggest food-hangover I've had in a long time. My body was achy, and I could hardly walk into the kitchen to get water! I was a wreck... purely from sugar and fat. But oh, how good it had been going down! I eventually dragged myself to the gym - a thing which I usually do not do post-Thanksgiving, as I had no leftovers at my immediate disposal. So, instead of continuing the glut-fest, as I would normally do, I did cardio. That night we had Kabbalat Shabbat services at school, followed by faculty-hosted dinners. I and three other students (all of whom had significant others with them... so... I was the Bridget Jones of the dinner....) went to our Dean's home for dinner. Not only was the food divine, and I had another large helping of amazing food (two nights in a row! not shabby!) but the dinner conversation was hilarious.

I made it home around 11pm, too full to sleep. So I sat up watching a movie. Just as I was starting to drift off, I felt my entire building shake. During the day, I never would have given something like this much thought - as the construction across the street often shakes my building a bit. But this was midnight, on Shabbat. There aint no construction at midnight and certainly not on Shabbat. I had heard that there had been an earthquake on Tuesday, but had not felt it. So, once my inital suprise wore off, and then the shaking stopped, I figured that I'd either: a) been attacked by a giant Gorilla, or b) just experienced an earthquake. After double checking with some neighbors who do not live in my building, I recieved confirmation of the latter - the former being validated as a good second choice. Apparently, there was a 5.0 earthquake in central Israel, just past midnight. Well, sleep was certainly out of the question after that!

And, simply because I haven't posted pictures in a while, here are a few from LAST week's festivities - including the party to which I was the seeming catalyst for mass evacuation. Cheers!

Meggido Junction

2007-11-12T12:51:00.001-08:00

This past weekend I went up north to spend Shabbat with some family that I didn't know I had until just recently - which is really a pretty common Israel-experience! After emailing for a few weeks w/ Shlomit, said new-found cousin (our actual relationship is quite distant, but family is family!) I finally found a weekend that I could get out of Jerusalem. I'd been feeling under the weather for the past few weeks and wasn't sure that I was up to a visit, but she assured me that it would be restful - and restful it was!

Another typical Israeli experience is that of being picked up at a, seemingly, random bus stop. Shlomit told me which bus number to take, researched the times it was leaving Jerusalem, and told me to get off at the Meggido Junction - a seemingly random intersection on the way to Tiberias. At the central bus station I bought my ticket, had some breakfast, and then fought my way onto the bus. Getting onto buses here (inter-city buses, mind you - like Greyhound) is a cultural experience in-and-of itself. Every rule of polite society goes straight out the window when trying to get on a bus in Israel. It's quite disgusting actually - and I was disgusted with myself. But I got a good seat at the front. So I wasn't too disgusted for long. The funny thing about going to Meggido, in my mind, is that Meggido is the supposed sight of the Armageddon! Good times! At any rate, I got off of the bus at the right place, at the right time, and, lo and behold! there was Shlomit, ready and waiting for me. Amazing!

The visit itself was really a treat in many ways, but also a little hard, as we conversed almost entirely in Hebrew - and let me tell you, my Hebrew is good for reading comprehension, verb conjugation in a test, and passing pleasantries, but 24 hours of Hebrew speaking made me realize the limitations of my vocabulary. It is so frustrating not being able to express myself the way that I would normally, in english. Ah, the joys of language acquisition.

The town in which Shlomit and her family live, Tivon, just happens to have a Reform congregation - a rarity in Israel. So, after waking up from my Friday "siesta" (during which time some of the first rains of the season fell - perfect napping conditions!) we went to Kabbalat Shabbat services. Their Rabbi was out of town, and leading services in her stead was one of the Israeli Rabbinical students from HUC. The sad part of this is that this was our first meeting- namely because the American program and the Israeli program never really mingle... at all. Which is sad because we are going to be colleagues one day, and the Israeli students are themselves examples of what it means to be a Reform Jew in Israel. Anyway, Gadi, the Israeli student leading services, welcomed me with open arms, and even invited me to light the Shabbat candles and do Kiddush at the end of services. It turns out that Gadi and Shlomit had studied together at a "secular beit midrash" (sounds like an oxymoron to American ears, but after living here for a few months, it makes sense...) - one of many small world connections which seem to be so abundant in this country.

After services I met the rest of Shlomit's family: her husband Meir, son Dotan, daughter-in-law Miri, and three crazy yet adorable grandsons - Nadav (8), Or (6), and Ya'ir (2.5 with CRAZY basketball/ball handling skills). It was so incredibly nice to sit around a Shabbat table, outside of Jerusalem, with this newfound family who welcomed me so wholeheartedly without a second thought. The warmth with which this family functioned was obvious to me after only a short while, and it had the strange effect of making me both homesick, and feeling so at home in that moment. Strange how Israel can do that. (I meant to take a photo to post here, but accidentally left my camera battery in the charger in Jerusalem. Smooth.)

At any rate, I wont go into all the minute details of the visit, but will leave it with this: getting on that bus to the intersection-of-the-end-of-the-world (as I lovingly call it), spending my Shabbat stumbling over my broken Hebrew, and shlepping back to Jerusalem on an overcrowded bus was the best thing I could have done for myself this past weekend. Not only did I make new connections with warm and lovely people, but I saw more of life outside the "walls" of this ancient, holy, busy, crazy, and sometimes infuriating city. Tivon is so green, and the rain made everything fresh and alive feeling. I forget sometimes how important it is to break with routine, and experience new things. Which is sad really, because that is what this year in Israel is all about - or what it should be all about, in my estimation.

Now if only I could shake this flu bug that seems to be knocking out my classmates three at a time...

היומ יומ הולדת

2007-11-01T07:58:00.000-07:00

Translation "Today is [my] birthday!"

Which is not true... My birthday WAS October 29th (Monday). First off, I rarely ever do this, but I have to use this blog-space to put out a huge thanks to everyone, both here and around the world, who made this birthday so special. I've spent the majority of my birthdays in the recent past away from home, and as such, am pretty used to not being in Portland on the date of my birth. This birthday really reinforced my understanding of the term "home is where the heart is," as I celebrated with my "Jerusalem Family" while the well-wishes from friends and family abroad poured in. I feel so lucky and, well, blessed to have such wonderful friends, and such a close supportive and up-for-fun community here.

My actual birthday, Monday, was a crazy day. I volunteered to read Torah that morning (every Monday morning we have student-led services as one of our requirements - we each have to read Torah, give a sermon, and lead services at one point throughout the year). Not only was it special to read Torah on my birthday, BUT it was also the bat mitzvah of my bat mitzvah, AND it was the same Torah portion I read on my bat mitzvah (because the Torah readings are dictated by the lunar calendar, and we read a different portion every week, it's rare that Torah portions occur on the same date very often). AND, to make it even more exciting for the geekier among us (i.e. myself for sure), the portion contained this super special trope (cantillation mark) called the "shalshelet" which only appears three times in the book of Genesis! Big doins! And it sounds pretty neat too! Thanks to Ross for helping me out w/ this reading by making me recordings of the verses! I'm learning that I really enjoy Torah chanting. There's something really intimidating, and, well, awesome about reading from the Torah itself. Especially now that I have a better understanding of the language and have a better sense of what it is I'm actually saying.

Other than reading from the Torah on Monday, the day itself was pretty boring. I mean, hey, don't get me wrong, sitting in classes for 8 hours is always fun - especially on one's birthday. Also exciting is that a good friend of mine's brand new niece was born on my birthday. I realize that other people share my birthday, but it was sort of special to get a text at 8pm on the 28th saying "hey, my sister in law is in labor" and then to find out the next day that the kid held out and didn't come out on the 28th, but the 29th! She and I already have so much in common.

That evening Rabbi Rosen and Barry had a get together at their beautiful apartment across the street from school for a few of my friends. We had all been in school until 6:15, so we were a tad exhausted, but it was the perfect way to end the day - and the perfect way to celebrate my birthday!

Me and Brian
Reading the e-card that Mom sent to me on my birthday
Fancy Pug
Barry, me and Rabbi Rosen

Last night, Halloween, the celebration continued at Dublin Pub in downtown Jerusalem. I've always had Halloween-associated birthdays, so why stop this year!??! Quite a few friends showed up, and it was, as birthday parties go, a good time!

Jill, Jen, and Me at Dublin

Ran, Me and Brian - looking elsewhere... oh well

All told - while it's always hard to be away from family and friends, this birthday didn't feel quite as hard being surrounded by new friends and new family. And birthdays in Israel are great! A country full of Jewish-grandmothers wishing you a "Mazal Tov" and being, seemingly, genuinely excited about birthdays... it's pretty great.

That's all the news for now! Will write more at a later date when something more interesting than classes and homework appear in my life.

If a salon can make you cry...

2007-10-26T11:53:00.000-07:00

Well... I couldn't hold out any longer - I got ma hair did. I went to a man named Itzik (not Isaac, not Yitzhak... Itzik) whom my Rabbi recommended to me. She is a woman of discerning taste, so i figured it would be safe. Some of my classmates have had interesting experiences with personal services here, so I was a little wary. The language barrier worried me, as I wasn't sure that he understood I wanted something "natural" to cover up the "gray" hairs. Yes, I found a colony of them a few weeks ago. So, after waiting for an hour, the concept of appointments in this country is very different from our concept of an appointment, Itzik's assistant starts slathering gray goop onto my head. It burned a little - which worried me a lot, he then asserted that L'oreal is the best product and they only use the best... good to know, but, um, it still felt somewhat, burn-y.

After processing for thirty minutes (!?!?!?!!?) he finally washed me out, and then said that Itzik would cut my hair (even though I'd only made an appointment for color)... so, now we're at 5:30pm. I arrived at 3pm for a 3pm appointment. Cheers. Eventually I wound up getting a pretty good color and a GREAT cut.

All of which would lead one to think: wow! Great! HOWEVER, that would not make a very interesting blog entry, now would it? I would be remiss if I failed to mention the gaggle of 19 year old girls who were in there while their friend, Yeshiva Barbie, got her long blonde hair done. First of all: I was forced to listen to their ridiculous, spoiled and concieted, drivel for close to three hours. Secondly, they thought they owned the place and while I was processing, one of them put her wallet in my bag, thinking it was her friends', and then when my phone rang, fished it OUT of my bag saying "Dossie! your phone... oh... wait... um... whose phone is this?" Lovely. Yeshiva Barbie's hair was perfect - Itzik did a good job. But I do understand Hebrew, and while Itzik was the ultimate professional, his assistant might not have been the most chivalrous in his verbal summation of the girls. Again, cheers!

Oh... AND, one of said girls referred to me as a "lady," while her friend, the only one who tried to make conversation w/ the scary fossil sitting in the corner (moi), very gingerly asked me "So, um, are you in your 20s?" I replied "Yes, I am. I am about to turn 26." To which she said "I thought so, I mean, you looked older, I just didn't know how to ask politely." Miss Manners would be so proud.

Going to the salon usually makes me feel good about myself - you know - the "whole new me" thing that we girls so enjoy doing from time to time. This experience, while I got what I wanted strictly speaking, made me feel like an old hag. Oh well. I guess the price for good hair in this country is a few points of self-esteem.

Mom and Stan in Israel

2007-10-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

Mom and Stan came for a visit at the tail-end of my Sukkot break. It was so great to have them here, not only because, well, it's Israel and I was excited to share my love of the country with them - but it was nice to have them see my life. We spent the a day in Tel Aviv with my friend Ran who lives in Tel Aviv.

Each of the first year Rabbinic and Education students have to give a D'var Torah, sermon, during the year. I had chosen to give mine while Mom and Stan were in town. Not only am I glad to have it over, and the experience under my belt, but it was so wonderful to have such a great cheering section! The Rosens, Rabbi Kim and Barry, were also in attendance as my resident-family-in-Israel. The timing was difficult as we'd just gotten back from two weeks of vacation, and weeks of holidays beforehand. HOWEVER, I was pleased with the finished product, and got pretty good feedback overall... and did I mention I'M DONE! YAY!

Mom and Stan were here for just about a week. We didn't do a lot of the touristy things, because, well, they had already been here before (we all came together in 1994) and had seen the major tourist sights. Instead, they got much more of an inside-track look at Israel: my favorite restaurants, school, friends, and the all-important shopping excursions. I think they had fun... I certainly had fun having them here! Sadly, it was hard to see them go. BUT as I said, we all had a great time. As evidenced in the few choice pictures below!

Mom and Stan in Jaffo

Me and Ran overlooking Tel Aviv

Family Trip to Rome

2007-10-13T13:47:00.001-07:00

Over Sukkot break I met up with Mom and Stan in Rome. What an amazing city, and a really great Souther-Geffen family vacation!

Family Time!!!

Arch of Titus depicting Titus' triumph over the Jews and destruction of The Temple. What a warm fuzzy...

Speaking of Jews - The Roman Synagogue

Jewish Ghetto in Rome - building on the Left was in the ghetto, building on the right was on the other side of the ghetto wall.

The Forum with the Colloseum in the background.

View from my hotel room at the top of the Spanish Steps.

Trevi Fountain

A Lot to Catch Up On

2007-10-13T13:21:00.000-07:00

I've been bad... no excuse. How long has it been? Two weeks? Three weeks? A month? Oh my!

A lot has happened since Rosh Hashana, I'll make it quick with the highlights and promise to get back on track with the super fascinating amazing insightful awesome updates of my life in Israel...

So, the highlights:
- Class trip up North to the Golan the Galil,
- Trip to Rome
- Parents' visit to Israel
- My D'var Torah... and the real pace of school.

There's really too much to write and still be interesting, so I'll catch up with photos!

Trip to the Galil and Golan

Lake Kinneret

Nature Reserve at Tel Dan
Really, really, really old mudbrick gate (Middle Bronze Age 2... yes I remember that much)
Sign post at Har Bental in the Golan
Coffee Annan - "Coffee in the Clouds" and... well... Kofi Annan - nice little play on words.
View from Har Bental - looking over Israel
Looking out over Metullah, northernmost city in Israel - those mountains are Lebanon
Singing along (Israeli folksongs of the North) on the Kinneret

Rosh Hashanah in Israel

2007-09-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

There is a saying that wherever you are, and whatever you're doing on Erev Rosh Hashanah will set the tone for your year to come. Lucky for me, my cold disappeared for a few hours (I've caught the nasty cold-stomache-flu-plague that has been sweeping the nation like a new craze), and I had a lovely Erev Rosh Hashanah.

HUC holds High Holiday services in the adjacent Mercaz Shimshon - a large gathering hall with one wall made entirely of windows looking out over the Old City. While no High Holiday service can compare to the High Holiday services of my youth, at Temple Beth Israel with Cantor Schiff's angelic voice, Rabbi Rose's mighty presence, counting the pages until the end of the service with my cousin Adam, and the generations of CBI children craning their necks trying to count the number of bricks in the domed ceiling of the Byzantine-esque synagogue... I will admit that the HUC services came quite close. Despite the fact that we are a relatively new community, there was something very familiar about being in a room mostly comprised of classmates, being led in prayer by our faculty and the HUC student (and community) choir. Many of my friends are in the High Holiday choir, so it was really a treat and a pleasure to hear the beautiful choral voice which was the result of their months of work. I wound up joining in a dinner hosted by Kesher in Israel (Kesher is the college-arm of the Union of Reform Judaism Youth Division) for Reform College students studying in Israel - and HUC students. I'd say that about 80% of our class showed up - severely dwarfing the non-HUC contingent. The dinner itself was delicious, and created an air of joviality and, well, holiday cheer amongst the classmates assembled - something that I don't think we've really experienced much of since the summer and orientation activities ended. It was fun to be all together, everyone dressed in their High Holiday best, ringing in the new year with good food, a little "family-drama," and an overall fun atmosphere.

Good thing the saying about how your year will turn out doesn't mention anything about how you spend the first day of the year. Some flip switched in my body right around the time I returned home, and the cold said "alright, fellas, break's over". I finally managed to fall asleep despite the growing pressure in my sinuses and inability to breathe through my nose - an ability which I highly value. Rosh Hashanah morning services were just a little on the long side, and a little on the painful side as the DayQuil didn't quite do the trick I had hoped it would. I wound up spending the day laid out in bed, praying that the pain in my head, and general icky-feeling would go away. At one point a friend of mine offered to bring over some American Sudafed, and, of course, some food. The realization that I was about to have another person over to my apartment shot me into action - as I am my mother's daughter and hate for others to see me at my ickiest. As I looked around my bedroom I couldn't help but laugh at the scene I had created: sick girl, alone, in pajamas, slightly red-nosed, sitting in bed, propped up by a million pillows, surrounded by empty tea-cups, room littered with wadded up tissues, sappy-girl-tv-show ("Felicity"... yes... I sank that low) playing on the computer... it was quite a site. I do "sick" up right.

At any rate, I'm very happy that I'm not doomed to a year of pathetic-runny-nosed-alone-ness, but, hopefully, blessed with a year full of friends, food, and jolly-good-times, as seen on Erev Rosh Hashanah. Let's hope. כין יהי רצין.

Moving away from the micro-level of my personal experience of High Holiday cold... the New Year in Israel is quite unique. Rosh Hashanah began at sundown on Wednesday night, and was followed by two days of holiday (chaggim), ending Friday at sundown... but, what begins every Friday at sundown, but the ultimate day-off: Shabbat. So, essentially, Jerusalem has been "out of commission" for 3 whole days. Well, 3 and a half really, as most things started closing up at around 3 or 4 on Wednesday. I went out Wednesday afternoon to get provisions for the next few days, anticipating the fact that nothing would be open in this oh-holiest-of-cities during the long-stretch of holiday. What a crazy-mess! The energy was great: everyone running around getting their Rosh Hashanah provisions: Newspapers, food, a last-minute kippah, etc... The craziest place in the entire city, I would probably wager in the entire country, could quite possibly have been the "Shuk" (the open-air market). The only thing that I can equate the craziness to is the supermarket on Thanksgiving day in the States. Hordes of people everywhere, moving in streams. Definitely not a day to browse the wares of the various vendors. Luckily, I was on a mission - and lucky for me, I was with my friend Adam - tour-guide-extraordinare. He took me to "his pita guy", where I was treated to pita so hot that I could barely pick them up to get them into the bag. We also saw some very interesting apples that had been "wax tattooed" with a "Shana Tova" wish. Crazy.

The resounding quiet of the last few days has been the best part of this holiday, in my opinion. People are out on the streets, walking either to shul or to holiday meals. There are still a few cars, but they actually stop for pedestrians, and, blessedly, the YMCA construction behind my apartment has been silenced for 3 whole days. I woke up yesterday morning (and by "morning" I mean, "around noon") to the sound of one of my neighbors playing the violin. There are two things so very sweet about that: 1 - that I have a neighbor who plays the violin and plays it well, and near an open window, and 2 - that I could actually HEAR the music, i.e. the silent canvas upon which he or she could paint their notes... i.e. the jackhammers across the street were off. Lovely.

Shabbat was, in this respect, just another day off. I went to services last night, and swung by school this morning in time for the Torah service (sleep is so so sweet). I managed to make it through the 4ish days of no-commerce pretty well, fueled by the challah I bought on Wednesday, catching up on old episodes of "The Daily Show," and "The Colbert Report" (I did not realize how much I missed them until a few days ago with the whole microwave popcorn incident), and compulsively downloading and listening to "podcasts" of my favorite NPR shows (Especially "This American Life" - oh the wonders of the internet). While the quiet and solace of a city-at-rest has been quite interesting and refreshing, I must admit that I do miss the traditional lunch-out after Rosh Hashanah services. It's been a little frustrating at times, knowing that, if I wanted to, I couldn't go to my favorite spots to get a bite to eat. Oh well. It's an experience! And the funny thing is that, for years I have been thinking about how nice it must be to be able to walk out of High Holiday services to quiet streets, in a quiet city, where just about everyone is celebrating Rosh Hashanah with you. The grass is always greener, eh?

Sadly, I know that tomorrow I will wake up to the din of the construction, and the return to school. But I take solace in the knowledge that I had a restful, albeit sick and a little lonely at times, holiday, and will be treated to another long vacation after Yom Kippur. (We are taking a "school trip" up to the Galil and the Golan for a few days before Sukkot vacation - and my trip to Italy, and my parents visit!!!!)

Wishing you all a happy, healthy, sweet, challenging, 5768!

לשנה טובה ומתוקה

It's September and I'm still here. Weird.

2007-09-04T10:18:00.000-07:00

It's starting to get darker, earlier. Which lends the distinct air of back-to-school. But it gets dark very early here, about 7pm right now. My Dad once taught me about how sunset has something to do with where you are placed in the time zone you're in... sort of (sorry Dad), so Jerusalem must be pretty far East in it's time zone or something - bottom line, it's dark. Early. Which, in my head, equals Autumn. But it's still hot. Which in my head, equals Summer. My head is quite confused. It's also September... and the summer has flown, as it usually does. Only this time the end-of-summer = start of real classes. And back to school jitters. And the whole darkness thing. Not to sound pathetic, but, it makes me a little homesick and slightly nervous about facing the early-dark-getting-winter time here. But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

I've just had the first few days of real Rabbinical school classes. So far, I'm really enjoying them. I feel like such a nerd. For instance, yesterday morning I was packing my backpack (I used to make fun of grown men and women who carried backpacks, but now I understand just how necessary they are), and realized just how nerdy the contents were. Notably the JPS Hebrew-English Tanach (Tanach is an acronym for Torah, Neviim (Prophets) and Ketuvim (Writings)), the siddur (prayerbook), and my tallit bag... I mean there were other less nerdy things in there, but the combination struck me as uniquely... well... yeshiva boy. Or, well, girl as the case may be.

So now I know a little bit more about my classes, of which there are really only a few right now and at very strange intervals. I started off the day yesterday with Modern Hebrew. As it was the first day of school, and I was moving up to a new class, I was actually really full of first-day jitters. Not the first-day jitters of college, more like the first-day jitters of elementary school. It was weird. I didn't get to sleep until about 3 am the night before, and had already (mentally, mind you) picked out what I was going to wear to school. So, right, Modern Hebrew. The teacher is great, and, she has my favorite Israeli name: Osnat. Brilliant. Immediately after Modern Hebrew we were treated to the wonder that is Biblical Grammar. We learned about consonants, and vowels, and syllables. It was just like preschool, only different b/c the chain-smoking teacher had an unlit cigarette in her hand for the last half of the class. Her name is Sima. She is also tiny, but hysterical. She makes jokes at other people's expenses, which is funny... until it's my turn.

Sima also teaches our Hebrew literature class, which we had today. She's still terrifying/hilarious, but a lot less terrifying in that class. It's like she's a different teacher. I think she enjoys it more, as I only noticed the cigarette (virgina slim, no less) in her hand briefly during that class.

What else... oh... I've got Bible which is quite fascinating. Right now we're reading Genesis 1 and closely reading about 5 verses at a time. That means using this super fancy Biblical Grammar Dictionary, the BDB, and another super fancy Biblical Study book called "The Concordance" (sounds impressive, no?) to look up specific words for their definition and their context - namely where else they appear in Tanach. I translated the first five verses of the Torah last night... for homework. I'm gonna love this gig.

Today we had our "Contextualizing the Zionist Movement" History class with Dr. David Mendelsson - who has a great reputation, and I can see why. He's British, funny, sweet, and an engaging lecturer! We're mostly focusing on the experience of Jewish life in Europe and the things that have led up to the creation of Zionism and the Jewish State. Thursday we have Liturgy - and that about rounds out the curriculum. We've also got an Israel Seminar every Wednesday, but those don't start until after the High Holidays... oh... and a professional forum... and electives... so... yeah I guess there are a lot of classes. Plus community service (I'm going to be volunteering with an organization that helps out families of victims of terror - intense)... the Israel committee... and choir. I guess I need to enjoy this free time. It might be my last for a while!

So that's the first-week-of-school update!

Until next time...

Eating Sushi with BB

2007-09-01T13:44:00.001-07:00

August vacation has come and gone, and it was a very nice break! The highlights included:

- Lounging on the beach in Tel Aviv,
- The artists' village of Ein Hod,
- Exploring Israeli wine country, and
- Eating sushi with BB Netanyahu.

Well... that last one is sort of a misnomer; we didn't so much eat together, more like in the same restaurant. (So, yes, totally eating together). But I digress.

Vacation started off on a Friday morning with a sheirut (think mini-van-cab) ride to Tel Aviv with four classmates (and Harry Potter #7). As is our luck, a nasty heat wave hit Israel just as our vacation started. (Heat waves and HUC students-travels tend to go hand-in-hand). Tel Aviv heat gave me a new appreciation of Jerusalem heat - namely, Tel Aviv heat comes with humidity. Southers don't really do humidity - so I essentially spent two days melting. But I soon discovered that there's no better place to melt than on the beach in Tel Aviv. Having grown up spending time on the Oregon Coast, with the uber-cold Pacific Ocean, I've never spent much time playing in the surf sans wet-suit, so it was quite a treat to float in the warm Mediterranean (much like that school trip to Ashkelon), and then lay out on the warm beach. And then there was the Artik (popscicle) guy, who just might be the Messiah. We also ate very well in Tel Aviv, we ate pretty well all over the country for that matter. (Like any good Jewish-tourists we had planned our dinner by the time lunch was over). Oh, and breakfast at the hotel in Tel Aviv... mmm...

Sunday in Tel Aviv we rented a car, and hit the open road - almost. We first stopped at the Palmach (the pre-state elite fighting force that preceeded the IDF) museum - which was by far and away the best museum I've been to in a long time. THEN we hit the open road. Our second leg of the trip was the shortest but, by far, my favorite. We spent the night in Zichron Ya'akov, a small winery-village near Caesaria. Our hotel overlooked the sea, which provided for a beautiful sunset photo op. (See?).

The main street of Zichron Ya'akov is a quaint little restaurant and shop lined pedestrian area, which reminded me a little bit of Cannon Beach in it's quaint-lovliness. Just down the road is my favorite Israeli-gem (to date), the artists' village of Ein Hod. The entire village is comprised of Artists, and lousy with art! It's everywhere - peeping out from between the trees and practically littering the roads. I've decided that if the whole Rabbi-thing doesn't work out, I'll move there, grow my hair long, and wear flowy dresses while re-learning how to use a potter's wheel. Sounds like a good plan, no?

The Galil wine country was an experience in-and-of itself. As we didn't quite make a game plan before leaving, we wound up on an Israeli-winery-scavenger-hunt. And it was grand! We started at one winery, which turned out being closed, but the very nice guy at the front counter pointed us just down the road to the Bazelet and Assaf wineries. Then, at the Assaf winery we met a very sweet man from Tiberias who told us we had to visit the Chateau Golan winery. Assaf called and told the owner to wait for us (as it was already 3:30 in the afternoon). So, long story short, we drank lots of good wine, met some interesting people... and then wound up buying lots of good wine. Including Madonna's favorite wine from the Dalton winery. Good times.

Tasting at the Assaf Winery

The car ride home on Wednesday was... well... long. As there were five of us in the car, I was very happy to get back to Jerusalem and out of the car. On the ride back down we stopped in Tzfat for about an hour to buy some candles and check out the artists' quarter. (How cool is it that we were just able to "stop by" Tzfat?!?!). Two winters ago I was in Israel on a Taglit Birthright trip with Livnot U'Lehibanot, and spent a week on their Tzfat campus. I've not been back to Tzfat since, but my memory took over in directing us towards the Artist's quarter - funny how there's that feeling-center of the brain which can sometimes tell the thinking-part of the brain to sit back and relax, its doing the driving.

We got back to Jerusalem Wednesday night, leaving me with three full days of freedom left. I don't think I got out of bed Thursday except to doll up a little and meet my friend Jen for sushi at "Sushi Rechavia" - my favorite sushi place in Jerusalem - and, apparently, Benjamin Netanyahu's favorite place too! He was sitting right behind us with his "entourage" and many body guards. Darn good sushi... mm... must plan my next trip back.

So, vacation is over, and tomorrow marks the opening of a new chapter: the first day of Rabbinical school! What have I been doing all summer, if not attending Rabbinical school, you might ask? And that would be a good question - Ulpan is most definitely an integral part of Rabbinical school, but it's also something I've done before. I was prepared for what was in store... Rabbinical school though - not something I've experienced yet, and I'm excited, and more than a little nervous. It's been four years since I've had the back-to-school jitters, and it's a little weird. I'll let you know how it goes...

Until we meet again - L'hitraot (see ya later!)

How to cook lentils

2007-08-23T10:30:00.001-07:00

It's over - Ulpan has ended and the first leg of this Year in Israel program has come to a close. Which means two things:
1 - Full time classes are going to start, but first,
2 - VACATION!

Classes ended on Tuesday with an end-of-the semester final, and an end-of-Ulpan party, complete with a Felafel lunch courtesy of HUC. For the last two years I've been on the teacher-end of the end-of-school festivities: planning parties, buying supplies, getting report cards ready for the teachers to fill out, etc. But I must say, it was pretty fun being on the receiving end of the festivities this time! I know, this was only a 6 week term, but it is sort of momentous in my mind. It means that I've been here for two months already, and that the summer is, essentially, over. Many of my Israeli friends have been going through the process of taking their end-of-the-year finals this summer (Israeli University finals function on a very different system than American Colleges - their tests are spread out over the course of two months instead of one or two weeks. Intense.) and are now finished. Israeli school children, for the most part, have a few weeks before school starts, so the country in general is full of the feel of summer vacation.

After Ulpan finished on Tuesday afternoon I came home to take a celebratory nap after doing what I can only assume was a good job on the test (as I found out yesterday that I will be moving up one level in hebrew, from kitah bet to kitah gimmel, for the fall semester). A friend, and former Hillel student of mine, Michael, was in town visiting his family. Not only did we get a chance to catch up, but I was lucky enough to receive an invite to his cousin's engagement party being hosted that evening by Michael's grandparents. First of all, Michael's family was instantly warm and welcoming. The party itself was an erusin, Engagement party, of sorts for Michael's cousin. The groom's family is large, warm, and very Israeli, and Michael and I got to practice our Hebrew quite a bit. It was really lovely to experience a family gathering, especially a family as lovely and warm as Michael's.

The next day we had a 10 hour long tiyyul (field trip), called "Walking the Bible". Well, there sure was a lot of walking... and it was insanely hot. My mother, and many other people's mothers, have told me: "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." So I'll stop here. I WILL say that we ended the day at an archaeological site in Ashkelon, right on the water. The sight of the brilliant-blue Mediterranean brightened my mood as soon as I got off of the bus - and I was a completely new person once we got into the water. I've not really had much experience with actually swimming and playing in the sea, as the Pacific Ocean is a little cold up on the Oregon Coast. My friends and I were some of the last to join the group in the water and by the time we got there, the majority of our class was already playing in the sea. It was such a sweet sight to see everyone together playing like little kids in the water. It was also quite fun to join in.

Today was the first real day of chofesh, vacation, and I used it well - I stayed in bed and started to read the new Harry Potter book. What a delight. I also ventured into the world of the culinary arts tonight. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have turned on my stove in this apartment. The past year I was spoiled by the fact that I lived with roommates who loved to cook, and was also surrounded by really good take-out restaurants. All of which meant that my meager cooking skills have gone by the wayside (I'm still a mean baker though!). So, in an effort to eat the food in my fridge before leaving on vacation, I threw together a little something. The only problem was that I did not know, in fact, how to cook lentils, which I happened to have in my pantry (now that I think of it, I'm really not entirely certain how old said lentils were...). I'm not sure that the proper way to cook lentils is any clearer to me now than it was a few hours ago, but I do think I have a better idea of what not to do next time. Did I mention that I did well on my Hebrew exam?

Tomorrow I head off on a 5 day adventure with my friends David, Lauren, Tami and Greg - first to Tel Aviv for the weekend and then up the coast and into the Galilee to visit the Israeli Wine Country. I think it goes without saying that I'm excited. Really, all I need out of this vacation is some time to sit, either on the beach or in a hammock, with my big floppy hat, a glass of wine, and Harry Potter. Really. All I need.

As I write this entry out on my mirpeset in the warm Jerusalem evening, I'm being treated to an open air concert somewhere nearby. I can't put a finger on who it is exactly, but I think I just heard them singing "Gesher Tzar M'od" Hm. Crazy. Ah Summer.

OH! One more thing! This week my immediate family celebrates the addition of its newest member! Mom and Stan adopted the most precious little King Charles Spaniel, Zoe! I'm quite jealous, as she looks like the cutest puppy ever and I know that if I hadn't left for the other-side-of-the-world, they never would have gotten her. So it's really a bit of a catch-22.

Zoe: My Replacement

Happy end-of-summer!

Photos

2007-08-18T05:46:00.001-07:00

Me, Keren, Jen and Lea Volunteering at the Mega Event - Free T-Shirt?

Me and Adam in Class - Typical Facial Expressions

David, Lauren, Lyle and Hannah - 1/4 of Kitah Bet

HUC Beit Cafe/Open Mic
i.e. Ulprom 2007

Homesickness: The First Pangs

2007-08-18T04:56:00.001-07:00

It was bound to happen. Slowly, but surely, I've started having moments of homesickness. I went through a phase in my life when I was always the homesick kid: at camp, at sleepovers, on school trips, you name it - I missed my mommy. Then, in college and for a few years afterwards, I was the exact opposite of homesick. I was always excited to be away from the familiar, trying new things, meeting new people, exploring, and doing everything except being at home (sorry Mom). This homesick-feeling is different, as I now have so many places that I consider home! It's not as simple anymore. For instance, I had my first Seattle dream the other night - and it wasn't about the people that I miss in Seattle (of which there are plenty), nor of the places that I miss in Seattle (of which there are, also, many) it was simply about summertime in Seattle. I believe I was sitting at El Camino having a Margarita in my dream, which is, honestly, something I've only ever done ONCE in my life. Really. I also miss my parents! It appears I have outgrown my adolescent aversion to missing my parents. And then there's "The Family" at large... oy... Especially my 5-month-old nephew, Calvin. At this point in his short life, I've been away more than I've been around!

I also find these moments of missing-home striking me at the oddest moments. This morning, sitting in Shabbat services, I was struck by a familiar tune, and immediately thrown back to sitting in the Pollin Chapel at Temple Beth Israel, listening to Cantor Schiff singing the same melody, and suddenly missed Temple Beth Israel more than I think I have since I moved to California for college 8 years ago. Wow, 8 years ago? Anyway...

It has been an interesting week in many ways. Sunday I had the opportunity to volunteer at the Taglit Birthright Mega event here in Jerusalem. "The Mega," is just that... MEGA. Every birthright participant who is in the country at the time on a birthright trip gets crammed into the Jerusalem Convention Center for a few hours of entertainment, not-so-subtle hints about making Aliyah from various Israeli government officials, and then "the largest Jewish dance party ever". It's hilarious. And strange. But it was nice to be able to give back a little as a birthright alumna, to staff the birthright alumni table. I thought we would be interacting with the current participants, answering questions about life after birthright. Nope. It was like I was a JCSC fellow all over again, pushing "Judaism-for-free" on these kids. We were, for reasons I'm still not entirely sure of, giving away CDs of Israeli "Indie-Rock" in English....? Yeah I don't know. But, the four of us HUC students who staffed the table had a grand-ole time. It was neat to be on the other side of the Mega event, and to get a different, less exhausted and adrenaline'd out perspective.

This Wednesday was Rosh Chodesh Elul, the first of the Jewish month of introspection leading up to the High Holidays. HUC students were treated to a 4:30 am Sephardi Selichot service up on French Hill, just adjacent to the Hebrew University Campus. It was an interesting experience. Aside from getting up at 3:30 in order to meet the charter bus at school at 4am (it's been a long time since I have seen that hour of the day) the service itself was interesting. We, the women, had to sit upstairs in the Ezrat Nashim (women's section), and quite frankly, it was a little too early in the morning for me to have any feelings of righteous indignation. If I'm being totally honest, I would admit that it was sort of nice to sit upstairs and not be "obligated" to rise with the rest of the congregation, or feel the pressure to pretend that I wasn't completely lost in the service. As far as women's sections go, this one wasn't so bad. There was a beautiful metal lattice-work grille in front of the balcony to obscure the men's view of us (I guess I've got some retroactive righteous indignation), but it actually lent a very beautiful physical element to the experience of the service. The Sephardi melodies were beautiful, and the Rabbi singing the penitential prayers actually sounded mournful and deeply sorrowful - I could not help but be moved by that. Plus they had really delicious tea. So, all in all, it was a good experience. Honestly, I would do it again.

As we move through this month of Elul, we are supposed to be introspective, to really take stock of our lives in preparation for the New Year and the Day of Atonement. I've never actually paid attention to Elul before. In the past few years, Elul has been dedicated to getting ready for the High Holidays on a very mundane level - making sure there were enough school supplies, setting curriculum, working. We are finishing Ulpan on Tuesday and then have a 10 day break before fall semester begins again. I am hoping to take this opportunity, this gift of not having to work, to so some of the nitty-gritty Elul exploration. It's something that I used to be good at - well, as good as anyone can really be at critically evaluating oneself - and over the course of the last 4 years have stopped doing. This is one of the things that I love about Judaism and the passage of "Jewish Time," we have these opportunities throughout the year to check-in, to take a look at our lives and make changes, or begin to understand how to make those changes. There are four new years in the Jewish calendar: Rosh Hashana, Tu B'Shevat - the new year of the trees, The New year of the Kings - I can't remember when or what that is, and Pesach. I usually take the opportunity to do some spiritual spring-cleaning around Pesach, as for some reason the metaphor of leaving Mitzrayim has always been more tangible (I've moved around a lot), but I've never been able to pay close attention to Elul and the rituals therein. I'm beginning to understand that, other than just a first year of Grad School, this year in Jerusalem is ripe with opportunities to give myself and my soul some of the attention it truly needs.

So, how did I get from homesickness to introspection? I'm not sure... it's just what has happened this week.

Much love and many blessings.

Oh yeah, there IS a world outside of Jerusalem!

2007-08-11T07:27:00.000-07:00

Six weeks. I have been here for six weeks already! How many times, in those six weeks have I left Jerusalem? Well, until yesterday, the answer to that question would have been "one." The combination of trying to establish a life here, finding a balance between "work" and "play", and generally acclimating myself has kept me pretty Jerusalem-bound. Also, the fact that I am here by myself has kept my adventures limited to mostly the Jerusalem area, as I tend to not go out adventuring all on my own very often. As a quasi-only child, I'm used to keeping myself entertained, and think that I have done a decent job thus far of so doing, but the time has come to break out of the bubble of HUC and Jerusalem and experience some more of this wonderful and complex country.

Yesterday, Friday, I did just that. I spent the morning and afternoon with a few fellow HUC students at the Ein Gedi spa on the Dead Sea. Words probably cannot describe how wonderful it was, but I'll give it a try. The weather was perfect: hot sun and warm breeze. Just sitting out by the pool was amazing. I feel as though I've not really had much of a relaxing summer - so yesterday was a taste of heaven. Sitting out by the pool was lovely in and of itself, but, dayenu, I decided to treat myself to a massage, and I'm glad that I did. It was, quite possibly, the best massage of my life. After the massage, feeling like Jell-O, I wandered down to the Dead Sea with some friends, floated until that got old, then went back to the pool. The Ein Gedi spa is pretty no-frills in terms of what we would consider a "spa" in the U.S. but I'm tellin' you, after six weeks of schlepping, stressing, sweating, and generally running around - this humble little spa hit the spot. And apparently it's a pretty popular spot as it was packed by the time we left.

I returned to Jerusalem with a few short hours to freshen up and rest before hopping into a car with some friends to head to Herziliya for a concert. Two trips out of Jerusalem in one day! And to two completely different parts of the country! Here I have been sitting in J'lem for the past six weeks thinking that it would be such a shlep to get out of the city - or waiting for my Israeli friends to invite me. Silly me. It took us about an hour to get to Herziliya, and as it was Erev Shabbat the roads were, blessedly, quite clear. Suzie, fellow classmate and driver-par-excellance, did an AMAZING job of navigating the roads (Israeli drivers are insane, think Boston-traffic, only worse). We grabbed a quick dinner near the beach in Herziliya while reveling at life-outside-of-Jerusalem. It was so nice to see women who dress like me, children who dress like my nieces and nephews, and men who would make eye contact with me. Jerusalem is a wonderful city, I love it here, and I'm gradually making headway with my tentative feelings about being a Reform-Jewish-Woman here... but boy, did it feel nice to be in a city where my only "otherness" is the country on my passport! Again, dayenu, after a nice dinner near the ocean, we went to an amazing concert by Israeli musician Idan Raichel. (It so turns out I just gave my Hebrew oral presentation on Idan Raichel, so I was well prepared.)

Idan Raichel's first album, The Idan Raichel Project, was released in 2001 and was one of the first forays by an Israeli popular musician into the realm of "world music". The project really focused on fusing Ethiopian music with Israeli, and it was a massive hit. His second album came out in 2005, the last time I was here, and ventured out from only Ethiopian music to more of a "world vibe" - and it is simply amazing. They both are. And he and his band put on a fantastic show. Going to concerts has long been one of my favorite things to do. There is little in this world more moving to me than being a part of the momentary community that happens at concerts. Idan Raichel played this show in a rather small venue (about half the size of the Keller Auditorium in Portland, sort of like the Moore in Seattle), so it was intimate, but it was definitely a "seated" concert. He's playing again tonight at an open-air amphitheater in Binyamina and I'm sure that will be equally as amazing! I can't express how happy I was to not only get out of Jerusalem for a little while, but to do so in order to see one of my favorite musical groups.

We got home at about 1 am, and I proceeded to sleep for 12 hours - apparently I needed it. I was plum tuckered from a day full of relaxation. I'm feeling happy, rested, and re-energized, which is what Shabbat is all about, right? I don't spend all of my shabbatot in "real life" going to services and making shabbat dinners, so why would I spend all of my shabbatot in Israel doing that? Shabbat, in my estimation, is a day of rest from the rigours of the day-to-day world. Shabbat is a taste of the world to come. I'll be one happy camper if the world to come is full of sunshine, really good masseuses, good food and live music. You may disagree with my version of "keeping" and "remembering" Shabbat, and if so, more power to you, but this is my blog, and my experience.

Shabbat Shalom v'Shavua Tov L'kulam.

Until we meet again...

Some photos of the past week

2007-08-04T14:21:00.000-07:00

Brian's Birthday dinner: with the Birthday boy, and fellow Kitah Bet rockstar, Hannah.

Sunset over the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum

My friend, and former student, Eli, giving a presentation at the Jewish Agency on her organization, Challah for Hunger. (I used to drive Eli to the grocery store to buy ingredients for her Challah-baking group when I was the JCSC at Claremont, and she a Scripps freshman. I'm so proud of how far it, and she, have come!)

Celebrating the first of three HUC birthdays this week!

"There are people with hearts of stone. There are stones with human hearts"

2007-08-04T12:44:00.000-07:00

Western Wall Excavations at Robinson's Arch (Just Below the Kotel)

For the past few years every time I've come to Israel I've had a difficult time dealing with the significance of the Kotel, the Western Wall. On the surface level, I have a problem with the fact that the women's prayer area is a fraction the size of the men's. That, in and of itself, makes me uncomfortable. Going a little bit deeper, I wonder at Judaism's focus on The Wall. What makes it such a focal point, to an almost psychophantic degree?

I vaguely remember my first time at the Kotel. I was twelve, and here on a UJC (now UJA) family "mission" the summer before my Bat Mitzvah. We went to the Kotel on Friday night for Shabbat. We first had Shabbat services down at the Southern Wall in the Archaeological garden - because that was where men and women could pray together. At the time, I didn't realize that was why we were there, I just assumed it was less crowded and easier to get a group as large as our's there. After the Shabbat service we went to the Kotel itself, men on one side and women on the other. I remember the impressiveness of the "Wailing Wall," and the security check that we had to go through to get in. I also remember the soldiers warning us not to take pictures, because it was Shabbat... but other than that, I don't recall much of the experience.

In January of 2005 I returned to Israel on a Birthright trip. Our first night in Jerusalem they took us directly to the Old City and the Kotel. There is nothing like the Kotel at night. I remember being led through the Jewish quarter, jet lagged, disoriented and in amazement by the fact that I was, finally, in Israel again. I remember turning a corner and all of a sudden, the golden Dome of the Rock loomed in front of us, the Kotel below. For a moment I was completely overwhelmed by the sight. This was THE place. The place that we face when we pray, and the place that generations of my ancestors faced when, and if, they prayed. We descended the steps that led from the Jewish quarter into the Kotel, went through the security check, and were face-to-face with the Holiest of Jewish sights: the Western Wall. I was instantly drawn towards the wall. I remember standing in the Ezrat Nashim, the women's section, not quite knowing what to do: how to act, what to say, where to stand, etc... After a hesitant moment with the Wall (not with God, mind you... but with the Wall) I walked back up to the top of the plaza where our group was to reconvene. As I sat there, I noticed the enormous difference in size between the men's and women's sections. I felt the tears well-up at the injustice, the sense that my prayers are less meaningful, less relevant, and it made the visceral and powerful experience I'd just had seem less so. That summer when I returned to Israel to study at the Hebrew University, I did not even return to the Western Wall, as I'd promised myself I would in that one moment the previous Winter. I went to the Kotel once, but didn't venture back into the Ezrat Nashim, nor did I even give my attention to this, our holiest site. The initial tug that I'd felt that moment in January was snuffed out by the anger I felt whenever I thought about the tiny Ezrat Nashim.

These past few weeks I've had many an encounter with the Kotel, all with school groups. On Erev Tisha B'Av I went with a few friends to try to make our way through the throngs of women in the tiny Ezrat Nashim. About halfway through the crowd I had to turn around, I'm not sure if it was my virulent dislike of crowded places, or the mixed emotions I feel being forced to cram into such a small space in order to pray and connect with The Wall... but all of a sudden I just had to get out of there.

This past week our third and final "Jerusalem Days" field trip took us to the Kotel, and the archaeological gardens surrounding it. As the morning wore on, I was flooded with questions and emotions: Why is this, our holiest site, so prohibited to non-Orthodox Jews? (Conservative Jews have been granted access to the Robinson's arch area to have "mixed" services, Reform Jews are still in the process of trying to get access, but in the meanwhile the Conservative Jews are letting us...) In revering the Western Wall are we inherently revering The Temple? The judaism that I know and adhere to isn't about one place, it's about a way of life - so I sometimes feel a little awkward about the importance of this one physical place.

I thought back to that second encounter with the Kotel. The gratitude I felt for being able to represent generations of my family by standing there, at the place they had turned towards and , perhaps, longed for for millenia. Is it the place itself that is inherently holy, or the fact that people long for it. Is it just a symbol, and if so, of what exactly?

I think that my frustration and confusion hearkens back to the issues of gender inequality within Judaism which are truly apparent in this city - particularly at the Kotel. The greatest irony, or injustice, is that prior to 1967 when Israel reunified Jerusalem, and Jews were allowed back to the Western Wall, it was a place where men and women prayed together. It was only a few years after Israel took over control of the Old City, and the Jewish quarter in particular, that the Western Wall Plaza was constructed, and the Ezrat Nashim put into place. Also, one of Israel's most famous and recognizable images is of the soldiers liberating the wall in '67. If you look at said photo, the soldiers don't have long beards, nor peyot, nor are they even wearing kippot. They are secular Israelis, and they are obviously moved by the significance of reclaiming this piece of Judaism. And they are the soldiers who survived fighting for the Kotel. How many Israeli soldiers have died in the past 60 years in fighting for this land, this Jewish land, at the heart of which is the Western Wall?

The quote that I chose to title this entry with "There are people with hearts of stone. There are stones with human hearts," is a line from an Israeli song "HaKotel," that I'll end this posting with.

I guess I have some work to do in discovering what it is that the Western Wall means to me. Luckily, I've got a year here to being the process.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I'll post some "funner" updates soon.

Love and Blessings,
Callie

HaKotel

A young girl stood facing the kotel, her lips and chin drawing near.
She told me, "The blasts of the Shofar are powerful but the silence even more."
She told me, "Zion, the Temple Mount" then said nothing more to me, about reward or right.
Yet what shone on her forehead at twilight was the purple of royalty.

The kotel, hyssop and sadness.
The kotel, lead and blood.
There are people with a heart of stone.
There are stones with a human heart.

The paratrooper stood at the kotel.
From his entire division - the only one left.
He told me "Death has no face but it has a diameter - of just nine millimeters."
He told me, "I'm not shedding tears" and again lowered his glance.
"But my grandfather, God knows, is buried here, on the Mount of Olives."

The kotel, hyssop and sadness
The kotel, lead and blood.
There are people with a heart of stone.
There are stones with a human heart.

She stood dressed in black, at the kotel, the mother of one of the infantry.
She told me, "It's the eyes of my boy that are burning and not the candles lit in the wall."
She told me, "I'm not writing any note to hide between the cracks. Because what I gave to the kotel just last night is greater than words or note."

~ Yosi Gamzool and Dovi Zeltzer

The remains of Robinson's Arch

A Time to Dance, A Time to Pray

2007-07-28T09:26:00.000-07:00

This week has been insanely hot. Last summer there was a crazy heatwave in Seattle in July - it was so hot that all I could do was to sit in my living room, the only room that didn't get any direct sunlight, and read. The mere effort of turning the page was enough to make you sweat in that sweltering heat. This week has been almost that hot. In heat like this, school is the best reprieve. The classrooms are air conditioned, and anything air conditioned is welcome.

This little kvetch about the heat is really just a disclaimer. I'm a Pacific Northwesterner, and a fair-skinned Souther who feels most at home in mild climates. So if my blog post this week winds up leaving something to be desired, blame the heat. I sure do.

So, this past week was a little strange schedule-wise due to Tisha B'Av. We only really had 3 full days of class, and our first quiz. Exciting. I know. Our second trip in the Jerusalem Days series was nowhere near as long of an excursion as the first had been, and thankfully so as it was 33C that day! (about 99F). Ironically, on this hottest of Jerusalem days, our tiyyul took us to Gehenom. If it sounds familiar, that's because Gehenom is another name for Hell. I'll not go into the exact description of all of the text references here, but in short, Gehenom is a name for part of the valley that runs between the Old City and what is now the neighborhood of Yemin Moshe. In the time of the 1st Temple, Gehenom is where those who participated in the practice of child sacrifice did so. Now there's a great amphitheater for outdoor concerts at the Sultan's Pool in Gehenom, and also a rather neat artists' colony. Just goes to show that time changes things!

The pathway to Gehenom is lined with beautiful doorways. Who knew?

The Gates of HELL!
(i.e. The really pretty entrance way to Gehenom Valley from Yemin Moshe)

After Gehenom we schlepped up the switchback trail from the valley up to the outer walls of the Old City. I will say that these Jerusalem Days trips are serving to help me get a little bit more familiar with the Old City. I tend to not spend much time there, as I'm not entirely comfortable within its walls. Not for any fear of personal safety, but more because of the fact that I am a woman, and a liberal one at that. I always feel as though I'm trespassing on someone else's territory, and that my mere presence is compromising the lifestyle that is the norm within the walls. The Old City was not always such a stronghold of Orthodox Judaism. Apparently it is a change that has happened just within the last few years. There are only a handful of non-Orthodox families living within the Old City, and they are having a rough time of it, especially in the schools. It's another example of how the Orthodox, who are not in the majority in this country, have a monopoly on this country. That being said, I have my own peace to make with the Old City and the Ultra-Religious strangle hold that it is in. So, in short, these field trips within her walls are a good stepping point in defining my relationship with Jerusalem.

There is also some amazing Felafel to be had in the Old City - reason enough to work through my personal issues.

The bullet-pocked Zion Gate of the Old City (bullet marks from 1948 war)

After the hot day in the Old City, I had every intention of spending a night-in. I've been having a hard time saying "no" to social opportunities since I've been here - there is just so much to do! Well, you can probably guess that I did not wind up spending the night in, and I am so thankful that I didn't, because I would not have wanted to miss the cultural experience I had! My dear friend, Eli (a former student, fellow Scrippsie, and buddy from my brief time as a JCSC Fellow in Claremont, also the founder of Challah for Hunger) told me about this dance party called "Boogie" that happens every Thursday night at the ICCY (a Community Center not far from my house). I did a rapid transformation from "night-in" Callie to Dance-Party-Callie and headed out. The ICCY is a fantastic space, and incredibly versatile. I've now been to Erev Shabbat services there with Shirah Chadasha, Israeli Folk Dancing, and finally, Boogie, all within its walls.

The only way to describe Boogie is to imagine every Middle and High-School dance you've ever attended. Combine that experience with a few of the more hippy-college parties you've experienced. Throw in a good dose of world music-vibe, and finally, a good helping of Bar-Mitzvah party. All in all, a crazy experience! I met Eli there and she immediately pointed out three of my fellow HUC students dancing. So I went over to say hi, and who should be there with them, but Rabbi Na'ama Kellman, the director of our HUC Year in Israel program. Talk about the place to be! Everyone was dancing and having an all-out good time. Needless to say, it was another late night. And one that I would not have traded for the world! A bunch of Jews, just gettin' down and having fun. In Israel. Only a few minutes walk from that Old City I'd experienced earlier in the day.

The very next night, I wound up going back to the ICCY for Shirah Chadasha Shabbat services, also with Eli. We were sitting in the women's section over-flow seating, which happens to be up on stage - and both chuckled at the complete change of environment that the room, and we ourselves, had gone through in the past 12 hours. (Shirah Chadasha is an egalitarian "Conservative" congregation - but they do have a mechitza, a curtain that divides the men's section from the women's section. It's a joke of a mechitza though: it is nearly see-through, and when you stand up, or are seated up on the stage in the women's overflow section, you can see everyone on the other side. Also impressive was that the women's side was larger than the men's, and by the end of services was standing-room only. Another sight that gives me hope and strength in this city where I'm not quite sure of where I fit in as a Reform-Jewish-Woman).

And finally, I had a wonderful close to a long hot week with a fun and relaxing Shabbat dinner with friends. This Shabbat marked the end of my first month in Israel. As I looked around the room I saw only familiar faces. Certainly, some I knew better than others, but overall, it felt like community, and in some ways, family. Lots of good food, good wine, great company, and a raucous session of Shabbat Zmirot to finish off the night. A great Shabbat, and another intense and interesting week in this most intense and interesting of cities.

Reflections upon Tisha B'Av in Jerusalem

2007-07-24T04:43:00.000-07:00

View of the Dome of the Rock (just above the Kotel) from the Dung Gate Entrance

Today is the Jewish holiday of Tisha B'Av, which commemorates the destruction of not only the First, but also the Second Temple in Jerusalem.

Last night, Erev Tisha B'Av, we had an amazing student-led service at HUC, which included the chanting from the book of Lamentations, Megillat Eicha. The garden where we held the service has an amazing view of the walls of the Old City, and it was truly moving to be look out over the walls of the old city, while listening to the account of the destruction of the Temple. The language in Eicha is vivid and disturbing, and saddening all at once. I've only ever really experienced Tisha B'Av at Jewish summer camps in the U.S. Last years' Tisha B'Av had a very different meaning, as it was the week after the Jewish Federation Shooting in Seattle, where I happened to be living at the time. In years past, Tisha B'Av had always been a time at camp to be solemn, to be manipulated into tears by the programming staff usually making you think about the things in your life that you'd lost in order to bring us around to understanding the loss of The Temple. Needless to say, all that these conflicting takes on Tisha B'Av ever left me with was more confusion and less of an ability to relate to this day.

At about 9:30pm, we left for the Old City of Jerusalem, led by Gingy (a.k.a Rabbi David Wilfond) who took us first along the walls of the city, then into the courtyard at David's Tomb, then up to the Ramparts near this children's playground over looking the Mt. of Olives (also w/in the old city). From there we descended the ramparts to the Dung Cate, and into the Kotel (the Western Wall Plaza). The entire Jewish Quarter was packed: tourists, Haredim, teenagers, etc. I was not expecting to see such a mixed crowd. I've always considered Tisha B'Av to be a holiday for the black-hatter types who mourn the loss of the Beit HaMikdash (the Temple itself) and pray for it's rebuilding. (It should be noted here that the original Biet HaMikdash used to stand where the Dome of the Rock stands today... making its rebuilding a bit problematic).

The Kotel plaza was filled with teenagers, just hangin' out. Many Israeli youth groups come to the Kotel on Erev Tisha B'Av to come together and remember the occurance of the destruction of the Temple, but I got the distinct feeling that it was less a mournful commemoration, than a triumph at the fact that "we're still here". The first temple was destroyed, and yet we returned. The second temple was destroyed, and yet we returned. The Romans put down the Bar Kochba revolt, and yet we returned. And most recently, the Nazis tried to kill us while the world watched, and yet, we've returned and keep returning. It was impossible to get to the Wall itself, as that was where those who came to pray were camped out. We left the Kotel around 11:30, and as we were walking out of the Old City, people were still filing in by the hundreds. I was a bit confused by this bustling energy in Jerusalem, as I'd been taught in the past that Tisha B'Av was a day to be depressed and destitute. The city certainly did not seem to be in either of those categories as I walked home at midnight and my, usually quiet, street was packed with cars and people.

So, today, after an hour and a half of Ulpan, we came together in small groups to engage in some text study, pertaining to Tisha B'Av. I'll repeat the highlighted text here, and then just summarize and reference the other texts later. This text comes from Talmud Bavli, or the Babylonian Talmud, written in exile. It says "Why was the First Temple destroyed? Because of 3 things which were rampant in those days - idolatry, sexual immorality and the spilling of innocent blood... But during the Second Temple period when people were engaged in the study of Torah, the performance of mitzvot and acts of loving kindness - why was the Second Temple destroyed? - Because it was a time of causeless hatred." - Yoma 9b

It is interesting to note that the Hebrew words for "causeless hatred" can also mean hatred freely felt, and baseless hatred.

So this is a very universal statement, that bad things happen to good people, sort of. It begs the question: if the Jews of the Second Temple were being so good, and doing all the things that God commanded of them, why would they warrant such a destruction. Were they perhaps only studying Torah, performing mitzvot and acts of loving kindness within their own small circles? Within their own families? Political parties? Prayer communities?

The story of Kamtza and Bar-Kamtza sheds some more light on this question. I wont write the entire story here, but rather, give my summary.

It's amazing. Essentially, this man throws a party and wants to invite his friend, Kamtza. But there also lives a man in the village named Bar-Kamtza, and he is the hosts' sworn enemy. The host (not named in the Talmud, which is significant) sends his servant to invite Kamtza, but he instead brought Bar-Kamtza. The host gets angry that B.K., his enemy, is there, and tells him to leave. But B.K. asks to stay and offers to pay for his food and wine, then half the party, then the party in it's entirety if only his host will allow him to stay. But the host "takes him by the hand and he threw him out". B.K. much chagrined concludes that since the Rabbis at the party sat by and didn't stop the host from being so inhospitable, that they therefore agreed with the host. And that this was cause for B.K. to go to Ceasar and to tell him that the Jews were planning a revolt. (Interesting revenge...) So, B.K. goes to Ceasar - Ceasar doesn't take his word for it and tells B.K. to take a calf to the Jews as a gift from Ceasar to sacrifice at the Temple. B.K. throws in a little sabotage on the way home, and creates a blemish on the calf's upper lip (which is considered a blemish to the Jews, but not to the Romans). Then a rabbinic debate ensues: should they keep the calf even though it's blemished so as not to offend Ceasar? Then Rabbi Ben Avkulas says that they shouldn't b/c if they do people will say that blemished calves are offered on the altar. Then the Rabbis suggested offing B.K. so that he wouldn't go and inform on them back to Ceasar that they weren't using his calf. But Rabbi Ben Avkulas says "no" that blemishing an animal is not a big enough offense to be put to death. Then Rabbi Yochanan, a later Rabbi, essentially blames Avkulas for the destruction of the Temple and exile from the land, for had he been less pious, and just offered up the blemished calf, it never would have been an issue.

Woa. So, here we see a little bit of what this "freely felt hatred" is. You've got so many characters in this story who are doing things upside down and inside out. We spent a while trying to pin point the actual "culprit" in this text and had a really hard time doing it, b/c everyone seems to be a little off, and wrong. And that is, seemingly, the point.

After text study we then had Mincha, afternoon, services. Moshe, my Jerusalem day leader (oh, at this point I must pause and point out that the three men on the bimah today were Moshe, David, and Eliyahu - i.e. Elijah. Talk about some significance there!) explained that, like Yom Kippur, Tisha B'Av is a day of atonement; however, on Yom Kippur we atone individually for our transgressions, whereas on Tisha B'Av, we do t'shuva (which literally means "turning" but is used in Judaism to refer to acts of repentance) as a community for our communal transgressions - namely of this baseless and causeless hatred which caused our destruction in the time of the Second Temple. So then, if we look at ourselves honestly, as Torah-learning, mitzvah-doing, and loving and kind people who still sometimes harbor bad intentions towards those with whom we disagree... we begin to see a little bit more of what this holiday can mean.
What came to mind to me today is the tensions between and among Jews from different religious movements and how we can jibe and jab at each other in a way that, when looked at, is pretty senseless. Food for thought. (Oh, speaking of food, it is also traditional to fast on Tisha B'Av... just thought I'd throw that in for good measure).

So if we look at Tisha B'Av not as a day when the physical building of Beit HaMikdash was destroyed, but a day when our peoplehood and lifestyle was cut down by outside forces, due to infighting, then its easier, at least for me, to see the solemnity of the day. And also easier to comprehend the somewhat celebratory mood I witnessed in the Old City last night - because we've not been wiped out, and we're here, in our State, constantly living in our history while making our future.

Now that I've got a better glimpse into a more holistic view of this day, some of the discordances I'd felt before are settling down and I am beginning to understand more of its significance - to me, today, as a Reform Jew who doesn't particularly want the ACTUAL Beit HaMikdash to be rebuilt.

So my "take away" of this whole long spiel is that, while I cannot particularly relate to the mourning for the Temple itself, I can understand the need to do some communal t'shuva, to turn away from our causeless hatred of those who are the "other" and begin to understand this concept that we can be, and have been, punished for not being able to see the big picture - which is so much of what Judaism is about, at it's core. It's not a Xenophobic theology on the whole, but it has become a Xenophobic praxis in many ways. So here's my prayer for Tisha B'Av:

That we may individually recognize the similarities between ourselves and those for whom we have little tolerance.
That we, as communities of Jews, find the commonalities between our denominations within Judaism.
And that we, as a nation find the overlapping ground between ourselves and people of all other nations, and faiths - and that they may do the same.

"Shabbat Shalom" And Other Things Heard in Jerusalem

2007-07-21T12:50:00.000-07:00

View of Jerusalem from The Tayyelet (Promenade)

No matter how many times I visit Israel, I never quite get over the fact that people wish each other a "Shabbat Shalom," - from the waitress at brunch, to the flower-seller on Ben Yehuda. Another noticeable difference in this city on Shabbat is the change in noise level. Jerusalem is not a quiet city. The construction alone, especially in my part of town, is noise enough, but add to that the sounds of traffic and every day life, and you've got yourself a good helping of ra'ash - noise. I noticed yesterday afternoon, while taking a break from Shabbat cleaning out on my mirpeset (porch), how quiet my usually noisy neighborhood was. I could hear birds chirping, and children playing - noises that are constantly drowned out by the drilling and construction at the Y.M.C.A. across the street from my apartment. It is this "peace and quiet" that I have come to associate with the coming of Shabbat in Jerusalem - a day of rest and rejuvination. (The street-cats however don't really care about Shabbat, they are noisy every day of the week). There is also a unique bustle of activity that happens on Friday afternoons - the Shabbat preparations. The throngs of people in the open air market, Shuk Mahane Yehuda, and on the pedestrian street of Ben Yehuda increase exponentially on Friday mornings. Everybody is hustling to buy their food, flowers, reading materials, etc... for the next day (b/c not much is open in Jerusalem on Shabbat) and also to prepare for the day of rest itself. Walking to services Friday evening, you can smell aroma of cooking-smells wafting from apartment windows, and feel the shift in energy as the city begins to quiet down for its weekly 25 hours of rest.

I spent a wonderful Erev Shabbat with my friends at Shirah Chadasha, an egalitarian minyan (prayer group), followed by dinner with a few of my classmates at their apartment in Abu Tor (a neighborhood close to the Green Line,). After dinner we heard fireworks - a not un-common sound in Jerusalem, coming from across the Green Line. Red, White and Green Fireworks to be exact (the colors of the Palestinian flag). We all assumed that these Palestinians, just one town over from my friends' luxury apartment in Abu Tor, were celebrating the return of 255 Palestinian Prisoners released by Israel just the day before. The sound of the fireworks was amplified by the lack of noise anywhere else - and was a reminder that, while we enjoy the quiet of Jerusalem on Shabbat, we are far from being at peace.

The Separation Fence/Wall running along the Green Line

Being a student here, constantly running from one thing to the next, it is easy to forget the "situation" here in Jerusalem (and by "situation" I mean the entire Arab-Israeli conflict). Just like anywhere else in the world, one can become so embroiled in the every day things (studies, errands, time with friends) that it is easy to ignore what is happening in the world outside of one's bubble of existence. Don't get me wrong, tensions do run high in this city, but the tensions are many an varied, especially from my vantage point as an American-Reform-Jewish-Woman. There is tension between Jew and Muslim, Israeli and Arab, Men and Women, "Religious" and "Secular" - and then trying to figure out where exactly Progressive Judaism fits within that spectrum... there's never really a dull moment on the streets of Jerusalem, but it is easy to become accustomed to these tensions, and weave them into my every-day existence in a way that I never needed to at home. And yet, despite these tensions, I love Jerusalem, and the home-away-from-home that it is becoming.

A quick note on what I've been doing when I'm not contemplating the sounds of Shabbat and Palestinian Revelry:
I have just finished my first week of Ulpan! I made it through week one... which is promising. Studying Hebrew, and ONLY Hebrew for 5 hours-a-day, 4 days a week is challenging, and somewhat infantilizing. It's easy to forget, after hours 4 of basic language skill development, that I am a) an adult with, b) a B.A. It is good to have the immersion in the language, but I'm not going to lie, it get's a little frustrating when you're trying to tell the teacher what you did yesterday, and cannot remember the word for "shopping". Luckily, the powers-that-be of the HUC Year in Israel program have anticipated just this sort of malaise, and have created a class called "Jerusalem Days" - where one day out of the week we take field trips around the city and study Jewish texts related to the places we visit.

This week was our first Jerusalem Day - and boy was it a doozie! We began the morning at 7:30 am (lifnot haboker - an Israeli expression meaning literally "before the morning" used to describe the early early hours of the morning), and were on the go until 4pm. We started off with morning t'fillah - prayer - up on the Tayyelet, overlooking the city of Jerusalem, both new and old, and then continued onto the City of David and Hezekiah's Tunnel, "where it all began". Walking through Hezekiah's Tunnel was an insane and amazing experience. It was dug out of the stony hillside of Jerusalem in the 8th Century B.C.E. to bring water from outside of the city into a reservoir within the walls to save the city from falling in a siege. There is still water running through the tunnel, which made for a wet and slippery adventure into the earth beneath Jerusalem. The tunnel went from being small and very claustrophobic at points, to tall and awe-inspiring at other times. And the water-adventure aspect made it feel a little bit like Splash Mountain, only on foot... and without the happy singing Disney characters. But other than that, it was really just like Splash Mountain.

City of David 3-D Introductory Film = Photo-op (Classmates Marc, Tami and Brian)

The City of David is, itself, an interesting place as it is both a National Park and a Jewish settlement. I'm not quite sure how that works, but it does, apparently. My Jerusalem Days group is also, quite a good time. I've already began to form my social network here, and for better or for worse, the majority of my friends here are in my Jerusalem Days group, and our teacher is hilarious. His name is Moshe, and he is an uber energetic man, who just exudes a passion for Israel, Jerusalem, and the history of this place. I find his enthusiasm to be contagious, and even at 3:00pm when he shlepped us through the Old City, I was still interested in what he had to say (although I may not have retained it all...)

Until next time!

Enjoying the new sushi joint in town, Sushi Rechavia, with Nicole, Jen and Tami

A few more pictures

2007-07-16T06:41:00.002-07:00

"Summer Break!"
Poster at the HaDag NaChash Concert at the Old Train Station

Enjoying some "nightlife" w/ fellow Rabbinic student, Brian.

Perhaps a little more "nightlife" with classmates Tami and Greg.

Setting up shop in Jerusalem

2007-07-16T06:12:00.001-07:00

First Shabbat: Goat Farm Goodness

Well, I am just beginning my third week in Israel, and I think that I can finally say that I feel settled. Oh sure, there are a few little things here and there that I need to do, but on the whole, I'm feeling at home here, and comfortable - which is amazing!

I will backtrack a little, just for the sake of bringing this blog to life, and, up-to-speed.

I arrived in Israel on Friday, June 29th, and was immediately welcomed by the amazingly gracious and wonderful Rosen family (some of you may know Rabbi Rosen, her husband Barry, and of course, their pug, Fancy). It was so nice to go from a long day of travel directly to the loving home of such amazing people - especially people who speak English! (Helped to delay the culture shock for a few days).

I am so glad that my first day in Israel was Shabbat - what better way to reintroduce myself to Jerusalem than on her most beautiful, and quiet, day of the week. Kim and Barry took us (Barry's nephew was visiting after his Birthright trip as well), to the most amazing place for Saturday lunch - a goat farm. Now wait... this was not your ordinary goat farm (not that I know what an "ordinary" goat farm is, but I have my ideas). It is located just outside Tel Aviv in the fields where, archaeologists believe that David slew Goliath. I mean, talk about history! At any rate, the scenery was beautiful (historically accurate or not), and the restaurant which is the highlight of the farm was simply amazing. When we sat down the waiter immediately brought us a beautiful plate of cheese (made there, of course), fresh-baked bread and house wine. Just when I was ready to gorge myself on the tantalizing spread, dayenu, they brought out more! Amazing salads, and small dishes that comprised a very generous meal - and quite tasty at that. We spent the afternoon enjoying the beautiful scenery, and relaxed feel of Israelis (secular of course) enjoying their day of rest. (see baby goats above!)

The next day I moved into my, beautiful, apartment - located just steps away from school, and just about everything else in Jerusalem. The week was spent getting settled during the day, while getting to know some of my classmates in the evenings. The school, HUC (Hebrew Union College) has summer interns, usually current HUC students in their fourth year of the program, who set up all kinds of informal orientation activities for incoming students. All in all, it was a nice way to slowly get to know my classmates while taking in some Yerushalmy culture.

Finally, we began to get down to brass tacks this past week with our official HUC orientation. And boy did they orient us!

This week we began our intensive Hebrew program, Ulpan, which will last until the end of the summer. The goal of which is to, obviously, improve our Hebrew! I'm having an interesting time finding exactly which class-level fits me best, but I have faith that I'll land where I am supposed to.

So... there's the bare story of my first three weeks here, in a nutshell! I am having a wonderful time reacquainting myself with this city, and getting to know my classmates. It is amazing how, no matter how long one has been gone from this place, it can feel like home.

More to come later...