Jerusalem

It never gets old.
View from the Haas Promenade. Israel 2010.

I know, I'm the worst blogger. ...Ever.

It's been over a month since my last blog.


Ugh.


It's not that I have nothing to write about. It's not that at all. I am in Israel, and there is a lot to write about. I just don't know how to write it all. I haven't even been journaling. I have honestly thought about turning this into a picture blog, forgetting about the words... but that didn't seem right either.

Rachel and I sitting on the edge of the
Haas Promenade, which overlooks
all of Jerusalem.

Oranim sponsored a trip for participants to Jerusalem yesterday. We woke up at the crack of dawn, met at a bus stop on Hertzl Street not long after, and boarded a bus to take a tour that I have done a couple of different times over. I will admit, this made me a bit grumpy. For one thing, I think this trip would have been a bit more beneficial in the beginning of the program, not more than halfway through. For another thing, it was six - forty - five in the morning, and I had yet to have a cup of coffee. Regardless, off to Jerusalem I went. 


Despite knowing the tours destination, and despite knowing that I was bound to hear repeated information, my heart skipped a few beats upon entering Jerusalem. I could cross the city line a million different times, but the feeling is always going to be the same, and there's no describing it. Seeing the landscape change, and the buildings slowly turn to stone... even if there were words, the description wouldn't do it justice. Dad, thank G-D you are coming here to witness it yourself.


So, we toured the Old City. We saw the Haas Promenade. I took pictures, pictures, and more pictures and have since added them to the collection. I could fill a store with the pictures I have taken from the Haas Promenade, and a gallery with those of the Old City. It never gets old (no pun intended!). 

Harris, Rachel, Dana and I.
(Please excuse Rachel and I, it had been a LONG day!)

After the tour was over (OK, a bit before, Rachel and I totally ducked out before we hit the Kotel), Rachel and I met Harris in German Colony to take him out for a belated-birthday dinner. It was fabulous, even more so because Dana met us to say hello! We crashed at Harris's house after dinner - - - literally CRASHED. I believe I was asleep by 10PM, Rachel following not long after.


And now, I'm back in Ramla. The streets are quiet, Shabbat is almost here. As Harris and I talked about yesterday, I often wonder about going back to America, where the world doesn't slow down on Fridays, doesn't stop completely on Saturday until sundown. Israel has become my norm.

Hold Your Breath

Machtesh. Israel. 2010

I really felt that this picture needed it's own forum. It was very hard to tell which pictures came out better than others because the sun was so strong while I was taking them. For the majority of the time, I just clicked away and hoped for the best. When I uploaded the pictures to my computer, this one nearly knocked me over. This is what it is all about.

Good Looking Jews

It's official. I am a terrible keeper-upper when it comes to writing this blog. Funny that with all the spare time that I actually have, I can't seem to sit down and write anything.

The last two Shabbat's have been wonderful. The Shabbat before last was spent in Jerusalem, which is always the best way to spend Shabbat. It also happened to be Simhas Torah, a holiday full of dancing. Rachel, Naomi and I stayed at the Heritage House with Becky, Esther and Lindsay. The Heritage House (because I can't remember if I wrote about it previously) is a hostel located in the heart of the Old City that is essentially free to stay at, but where most people do the best they can to leave a donation upon leaving. I have never stayed in a "real" hostel before (the one in Haifa didn't count), so it was an experience. It is an all girls facility, but has a brother hostel located right around the corner, and on the roof of the men's hostel is where Havdallah is held. A lot of the time, there is also a speaker that concludes Shabbat, and of course, some sort of nosh (food). Staying in the hostel was a lot of fun. The Madrechot (essentially counselors) that run it are very nice, and it's incredible the amount of people that you meet when you stay there.

Because we were staying in the Old City, and because it was Simchas Torah, and of course because his family is amazing, we spent a lot of time with Rabbi Eli. We had a number of meals by him, and he was kind enough to take a group of girls dancing one night, and of course to the Kotel afterward. It was incredible. Unfortunately because it was a holiday and Shabbat, I don't have any pictures of the dancing, just of the Heritage House after the holiday and between Shabbat. (The Heritage House itself is Shomar Shabbat.)

I spent the week volunteering and had a few days to prepare myself for an Oranim sponsored trip to Eilat. During that week I got to attend a VERY special event - - - a wedding of a good friend of mine, Gery, that I met the very first time I was in Israel. It was an incredible experience, and the wedding was absolutely gorgeous. Mazel Tov Gery and Netta!

I was super excited about the trip because there were two major places that I hadn't been in Israel - - - Haifa and Eilat - - - and I am ecstatic that I got to do both during this trip. Oranim bussed us to Eilat on Friday, nice and mookdam (early) in the morning, six AM to be precise. Of course, Israeli's are not used to traveling more than twenty minutes without stopping, so the six hour ride was broken up with many stops, one of which was at the Machtesh, the largest of the three craters in the Negev Desert. We literally hiked up one side of the crater, and down another. It was incredible - quite hard - but a lot of fun and the view was absolutely worth it.

Eilat itself was just okay. I don't know that I would do it again. The beach was just like any other beach, although the water was so blue you could see clear through it. It was a lot of fun to stay in the hotel with so many Oranim participants and get to know everyone and learn everyone's story. I was also glad to experience the night life and see how it differs from the rest of Israel. We spent one night at the Bealtes Bar, a famous bar in Eilat that is devoted to the Bealtes and that becomes a dance bar at night. The second night Oranim charted a small cruise ship to take all of the participants for a ride around the Red Sea, which was a blast. I also spent a significant of time walking the board walk that runs along the beach strip near the larger hotels in Eilat.

All in all though, I would say that my favorite part of the trip was the first hike we did, and the hike we did on the ride home. I can't recall the name of where we were on the way back to Ramla, but the hike was equally as beautiful as the Machtesh, and equally as hard. From the summit of the second hike I looked over not only Eilat, Israel, but Jordan, Egypt, and a bit of Syria. I actually fell down the incline once or twice on the second hike and I have a lovely bruise in an unmentionable place from the tumble. It was worth it. I absolutely believe that no matter where life leads me, the view will not compare to those of Israel, especially those of the Negev Desert. It's like someone painted it there for me to see - - - it's as if I blink it will disappear.  

(Again, I'm not sure why blogger isn't letting me tag my photo's, but the first is of me in The Heritage House, and the second is a good chunk of the Ramla group on the way up to the Machtesh.) 

A book to consider!

My friend and fellow Ramlian lent me this book and I poured through it in about a day. It was probably one of the best books I have ever read. Anyone who has a chance should pick it up somewhere, it is worth the read.


I took this synopsis from http://www.bookdepository.co.uk:


Atlit is a holding camp for "illegal" immigrants in Israel in 1945. There, about 270 men and women await their future and try to recover from their past. Diamant, with infinite compassion and understanding, tells the stories of the women gathered in this place. Shayndel is a Polish Zionist who fought the Germans with a band of partisans. Leonie is a Parisian beauty. Tedi is Dutch, a strapping blond who wants only to forget. Zorah survived Auschwitz. Haunted by unspeakable memories and too many losses to bear, these young women, along with a stunning cast of supporting characters who work in or pass through Atlit, begin to find salvation in the bonds of friendship and shared experience, as they confront the challenge of re-creating themselves and discovering a way to live again.

A week for travel

This past Wednesday my roommates and I embarked on a trip that left my mouth agape, my eyes more than a little bit droopy, and my calves pulsing. We braved the walk to Lod (about a half hour, twenty minutes if your walking Debbie and Matana speed), hopped on a train, and headed for Haifa. 

Though I have traveled some, I have never stayed in a hostel. Something about sleeping in a room with 10-15 strangers just hasn't appealed too me in the past. However, I now see monetary value of staying in a hostel, and thus, landed myself at the Port Inn Guest House at the base of Mt. Carmel. However, from what my roommates have told me, both extensive travelers and well schooled in the art of hostel hopping, our four bed, private corner suite with a bathroom attached was one of the finer establishments they had found themselves in. The bed was comfortable, the shower pressure was fantastic, and breakfast, well, lets face it, Israeli breakfast is good anywhere.

The man at the front desk of the hostel gave us a what-to-do-in-Haifa pamphlet that we poured over until we decided, collectively, that the Grand Canyon was the way to go. In Hebrew, the word kenyon means mall. Somehow, something got lost in translation and the biggest mall in Israel was named the Grand Canyon. And was it ever grand! The inside was beautiful, though filled with small children, gigantic crowds of people, and of course, dogs. I still have yet to get used to the size of the stores in Israel (due to the cost of real estate) and the fact that despite the small size, approximately one hundred people will try to fit themselves in each store.

Our time in the Grand Canyon was limited. Sukkot was beginning and stores began to shut down at about 2:30PM. We took this opportunity to walk the German Colony, where we found Cafe Cafe, where I found ICED COFFEE! Not only was it truly hot coffee poured over ice, but I could then pick from a variety of flavors, including caramel. It was a great day! 

Our second day in Haifa was spent at the Bahai Gardens. We had been there once before with Oranim, but only got to see the very top part of the gardens. This time around, we took a free English tour with about 40 other people through the entirety of the Gardens. It was a nice tour, but walking down the Carmel after just about killed me. I could never live in Haifa.

The four of us went out both nights in Haifa - once to bars, and the second night to a club on the top of the Carmel. I feel it needs to be mentioned that both Matana and I successfully bought and wore "onesies" on the second night, and rocked them, if I do say so myself - though the snaps on mine were quite annoying and eventually became unsnapped and stayed that way for the remainder of the night. Any time I see Israeli women walking around with a tight top, I have to remind myself that it is most likely a "onesie". They are extremely popular in Israel, and they actually look nice, though the concept is hilarious.

The second part of this blog will unfortunately have no pictures, because it was spent during the Hag and Shabbat in Jerusalem, and my camera was taking a Shabbat rest. On Friday morning, Rachel and I took a train to Jerusalem to meet Harris. We stayed at his house that night, going to synagogue and having Shabbat dinner, which was of course, a feast of great proportions, and one where I have learned to love chopped liver! Rachel and I had been itching to go to not only an Ashkenazim synagogue, but one in particular that Rabbi J had told us about prior to leaving for Israel, called Shir Hadash. It was the best service I have been to since being in Israel, and the only service that I have actually been able to understand to a greater level.

On Saturday, we embarked on a trip to the Old City, where we met up with several of our Ramla co-volunteers, and went to Rabbi Eli's house for Shabbat lunch. It was one of the coolest experiences I have ever had, as we (about 14 Americans close to my age) ate lunch in his sukkah, with his wife and daughters. I wish I had pictures of it. We then went with Esther and Lindsay to check out the Heritage House, a hostel located inside the Old City where youth travelers can stay, and where they were staying for the night. We joined them at the Kotel and then on the roof of the men's hostel for the meal ending Shabbat and for Havdalah. It was truly an experience. 

I am beyond glad that I saw Jerusalem during Sukkot. there are sukkahs virtually everywhere you look, in homes, on roofs, in restaurants. People move themselves outside for eight days, eating and some even sleeping in there sukkahs. It's really an amazing thing to see. 

(Again, blogger is not letting me caption my pictures. 1) Rachel, Naomi, Matana and I in the Port Inn Guest House. 2) The Grand Canyon. 3) My caramel iced coffee. 4) Matana and I in our "onesies" - hers was much more Lady Gaga!)

Hag Sameach

Sitting on the main street in Ramla, Hertzl, on Friday night.

What a great time to be in Israel. On and off through the early parts of September, it was rumored that on Erev Yom Kippur, it is illegal to drive in the state of Israel. I'm not sure how much truth there is in that statement, or if perhaps everyone just bands together and not operating their vehicles is a choice they make, but this past Friday night, there wasn't a car to be found, lest you include those of the police or medics. The streets however, were far from empty.

A blurry but accurate shot of the throng of
people at the Rotary on Yoseftal on Friday night.

If you look out the window of my apartment (which happens to take up a good portion of the wall), you will see the street, and one of the thousands of rotaries they have in Ramla alone. During Erev Kippur (Israeli's drop the Yom), that rotary was a blinding flash of white. White T-shirts, white skirts, white pants, white heels, white yarmulkes. Thousands of people were in the streets, of all ages. The rotary was a gathering spot for teenagers, elders; there were children on bikes, on scooters; mothers pushing baby's - it was a the site of all sites to watch the sea of white travel down the middle of the street, un-alarmed, un-inhibited. This march continued until the wee-hours of the morning, and then the town slept, and was quiet for a just a minute, until the madness started up again the following day, and didn't end until the shofar blew on Saturday night at sundown, signaling the end of Yom Kippur, of the fast, and of a memorable Shabbat.

Cleaning up Palmahim Beach.

Because of all of the holidays, we have had short work weeks. This particular week was only three days, and kicked off with "Clean Up Israel". On Sunday, a sherut picked eight of us up and took us too Palmahim, a beach located on a Kibbutz about 25 minutes from Ramla. There, we were given t - shirts, hats, and trash bags, and we were sent on a mission to better the beach, which was, inevitably, filled with trash and was being used as the local sherutim (bathroom) a lot of the time. It was hard, long work in the sun and the heat, but it was rewarding. At the end of the day, we got to take a dip in the Mediterranean, and randomly met a woman on the beach who works for Clean Up Israel, who informed us that there is an effort to better the beaches and cities of Israel happening as we spoke, and that we could be a part of it. Hopefully, we will be in touch with her and can get involved with Israel-wide clean up efforts.

 Of course, another holiday follows Kippur's tail. Sukkot is starting soon, giving us more days of rest and celebration. It is incredible to go to sleep the eve of the closing of Yom Kippur and wake up the next morning to see Sukkah's dressing the streets, man made structures that seemingly rose from the ground overnight. Both Oranim Ramla groups banded together after the Palmahim beach clean up to construct our own Sukkah at the house, decorating it with balloons and banners, eating burrakahs, jam squares (courtesy of your's truly!), hummus and pita, pasta salad, and causing mayhem for a few hours, creating our fair share of ballagan (mess).

In the next few days, I will be doing a lot of traveling. In an attempt to see Israel at its best during Sukkot, I will be joining my roommates for a short vacation in Haifa, and then making my way to Jerusalem to spend Shabbat with Rachel and Harris. I can't wait to see some of the Sukkahs across the country. (Because blogger is being strange, it won't let me caption the above photo - It is me, being a ham ballagan [hot mess] inside the Ramla Sukkah.)

Shana Tova!

Jeep Trip in the Negev Desert

What a special time to be in Israel. Rosh Hashana has just passed, Yom Kippur and Sukkot are on the way, and I am literally sitting in the midst of celebration. People are wearing white, wine is being served, and families are opening their homes to strangers, the mitzvah of mitvahs. 

Rachel and I spent Rosh Hashana in Be'er Sheva, the largest city in the Negev Desert, with the Rinot family. I have never felt more welcome. Dinner was about 25 people deep, and the majority of them were English speakers, which was nice for us. Though we want to practice our Hebrew as much as we can, sometimes it is a nice break to hear your native tongue. The food was excellent, and the company was even better. The Rinot's have three daughters, and I believe that I asked them about as many questions as they asked me. I cannot wait to see them again. 

Before swimming

We spent the night in Be'er Sheva and the next day embarked on a "jeep trip". Anyone who knows me, knows that I have a fear that runs deep, to my core, of car accidents. I hate fast cars, I hate risky drivers, and I'm absolutely terrified of getting hurt in an accident. Now, my mother will tell you that I have a heavy foot, and she is right. I guess I just trust that that same foot can pound the break just as quick. Anyways, I have been slowly getting over this fear... I really have no choice since I am constantly putting my life into the hands of the Sherut drivers, and we all know how fast they drive. So, on the second day of Rosh Hashana, I went on a jeep trip. We toured the Negev Desert by way of off-roading, and it was amazing. It absolutely blew my mind that not only were there trails through the desert, but that those I was with knew how to navigate those trails. Eventually, we stopped for a quick rest and took a 1 kilometer walk to a ravine, where we found water. Naturally, we swam. It was the first cold body of water that I found in Israel, and it felt amazing. 

I am so grateful that I got to spend Rosh Hashana in Israel, and that I got to spend it with such an amazing family. The entire experience, from spending time with their daughters, to dinner, to meeting so many people, to off-roading, was more than I could have ever asked for. I cannot wait to experience the rest of the holidays in Israel.

Anachnu Metnadvot

I have been in Israel for a month next week. The time has really flew, and I'm sure before I know it, it will be January. We have finally started volunteering, which makes the weeks pass by even faster.

My roommate Naomi and I kicked off the week at the Senior Center, a place for Alzheimer's patients. I am grateful that two of us went together, because at first, the experience was a little overwhelming. No body, not even the people who managed the center, spoke English, and my Hebrew is beyond limited. Together though, Naomi and I managed to piece together a few sentences, and made conversation by simply repeating the words that we understood. Though I was nervous at first, I soon realized that there was no reason to be shy, that I was above all, just another person to talk to, and that was enough. People made conversation with me, despite my inept skills at the Hebrew language.

In the lettuce fields at the local Moshav.

Vegetable picking was our next endeavor. What an experience! We were dropped off at a local Moshav, where for as far as the eye could see there was lettuce fields. All four of us girls were participating, and it was a simple yet daunting task. We waited until several Thai workers hacked the heads of lettuce from the soil and dropped them into bags around their waists and then to the ground. When there was a sufficient amount of heads of lettuce on the ground, we counted out the correct number, and filled bins, and bins, and bins. It was a never ending, back braking process. We were only in the fields for about an hour and a half, but it was enough for the first try. The Thai workers that we accompanied are in those fields from 5AM until sundown.

This past Thursday, September second, was my 22nd birthday! During the day, I volunteered at the Arab Kadima in Ramla. I absolutely loved it! Basically, a Kadima is a place for children to go after school to play games and hang out and do homework. The Arab Kadima, this week and for the rest of Ramadan is a bit more active than the Jewish Kadima because the children are fasting, and there is only a half day of school. It was a great experience... the kids are wonderful. I played Taki, the Israeli version of the card game Uno, and learned about the kids and what their interests were. At the end of the day, the children separated into groups and did homework. We helped them with their English homework. These kids are amazing, they are already tri-lingual (Hebrew, Arabic, English) at such a young age, it's incredible. It makes me sad to know that the rest of the world has such an upper hand on America when it comes to things such as language. I know that I struggled learning Spanish because I started when I was in sixth grade. In a perfect world, I would have started learning a romance language in first grade, but that isn't a reality in America. 

Rachel, Naomi, Adrea, Matana and me.

My birthday was fantastic. Though I would have loved to have stayed 21 forever (it's such a perfect age!) I guess I had to age eventually, and I suppose 22 isn't so bad. A group of about 11 of us went out to the Tel A'viv Port, to a club called Ching Ching. I had a blast. Night life in Israel doesn't start until about midnight, and somehow I managed to stay awake until 5AM. It was incredible, I danced on a bar. I have always loved to dance, and I try to go out in America as much as I can, but I now know that like a lot of other things, the night life in America will never compare to the night life in Israel. The rhythm of life is just different here.

We ended the week, of course, with Shabbat. I am again, blown away with the kindness of people. I understand that it is a Mitzah, a good deed, for someone to open their home to strangers on Shabbat, but it continuously shocks me. This Friday night Rachel and I accompanied a new friend to her synagogue and then had Shabbat dinner at her home with her family. It was the best meal I have eaten since arriving in Israel. The conversation was almost one hundred percent in Hebrew, as she is the only one in her family who speaks English, but that made the night that much better. When I could follow, the conversation was wonderful and I have never felt more welcome. We traded stories back and forth and it was a truly great feeling to learn about someone else, someone from a completely different culture with a completely different background.

The service in the synagogue was again, hard to follow, especially because some of the tunes that I have begun to get used to were changed because of the upcoming holiday (Rosh Hashana). I will openly admit that I spent the majority of the service reading from the Siddur at my own pace. I am amazed at how much I can read, and even at the small amount that I can understand. I came with nothing, I cannot believe how much I will be leaving with.

Discovering Ramla and Shabbat

I am bad at this blogging thing. I have realized that it is a lot harder than I thought to try and write down everything that is happening to me, when it is happening. The truth is that there is just not enough time in the day, enough days in the week, or enough weeks in the month.

Shakshouka night at Yoseftal!

This week was pretty much a carbon copy of the weeks before it, with some new thrown in here and there. The week ahead of us, we start volunteering! Mazi, our house mother, was over one night, and made us a fantastic dinner. Shakshouka is a traditional middle-eastern dish made out of onions, tomatoes, and poached eggs. I am trying so many new things while I am here, food included, and I cannot wait to try and create my own shakshouka!

At the beach in Rehovot.

Strangely enough, I keep discovering how much I truly enjoy Shabbat. This past Shabbat, I went to a very nice beach with some great new friends that I met on Thursday night, and saw the biggest waves I have ever seen, waves that I didn't even realize existed. The were feet high in the air, and dangerous. People were surfing, kite surfing, and getting knocked over by the pure strength of the sea. (I keep having to remind myself that it is the sea, not the ocean.) It was a wonderful experience, so different from the beach back home. Most who know me know that when I go to the beach, it is an all day activity. You pack lunch, a book and some tunes, and set out until the sun sets. Here, this is not the case. The sun is too strong, the water is to menacing, and beach trips are quick.


We went out on Thursday night to Rehovot by way of a sherut. We just went to a small bar called Dublins (good pizza!), and next week we will go out a little bit bigger for my birthday, maybe to Tel A'viv. I am continuously surprised by the establishments in Israel, like bars, where people can smoke inside. 


I am also shocked on a weekly basis when Shabbat comes around, by how much I actually enjoy it. I have decided that I would like to synagogue shop, yes, synagogue... Shul is Yiddish and Temple means the literal "great" Temple in Israel, so synagogue it is, while I am in Israel. Rachel and I were fortunate enough to run into someone who took us to synagogue Friday night. The synagogue was a hop, skip and a jump away from our apartment, and it was, of course, a mechitza, where the men and women are separated. I don't really know what my feelings are on this concept. Part of me relishes in it because the balcony is normally a community of great women who make sure that you are welcome and that you are following the service. The other part of me can't get my head around the fact that the women are made to sit upstairs (in a lot of synagogues, not all) and cannot see the Rabbi or even hear the service a lot of the time. The services here are also primarily Sephardi, and I am Ashkanazi, so the services are very hard to follow. I am determined to learn though. Part of me, a very small part, feels like a poser, because I am so clueless while I am in synagogue. I barely knew what I was doing when I was at my temple in Stoughton, and now that I am completely out of my element, I am turned upside down. However, I know that I enjoy synagogue, and I like how I feel when I am in synagogue, and I believe that that is all the more reason for me to continue to synagogue-shop, and continue to learn.

Scaling ancient stairs at the White Tower.

The four of us girls are lucky enough to have met a friend, Moty, who has the literal "keys to the city". On Sunday, he took us on a tour of Ramla, so we could see what exactly the city was all about. We went to the underground water cisterns, the White Tower, and the Carmel, a place where the people who govern Ramla watch over the city to ensure that there isn't any trouble. It's really something. All three activities were wonderful, my favorite being the cisterns, where we were able to paddle a row boat around underground and explore. The White Tower was also great, because at the summit you could see all of Ramla, in its expanse, and the city is much larger than I thought. It was a great day, filled with a lot of great experiences. I believe that it is good to know something about the town that I am living in.

We ended Shabbat by walking around Ramla after the sun went down. We got pizza and frozen yogurt and watched the city come to life again. It really is an amazing experience, and even though we do it every Saturday night, it is different each time. I am determined to spend at least a few weekends while I am in Israel in the Shomer-Shabbat manner. It fascinates me, and I think that it might actually be good for me to try something completely out of my norm.

Efo at rotsa l'gor? Ani rotsa l'gor b'Jerusalem!

This weekend, my roommates and I had the esteemed pleasure of spending our second Shabbat in Israel in Jerusalem. What a weekend it was! I feel like I should start from the top, and explain to the world that I have never had the need to take public transportation before. Now, however, I believe that I am going to be a pro, in a very short time. A walk to the Central Bus Station, or tachanah h'merkazit, a bus ride to Jerusalem, a quick switch at the tachanah h'merkazit there, and to Harris's house we go! How he handled four girls in his apartment for three days, I'm not sure, but we are very grateful! (* Harris is a very good friend that Rachel and I know from ATC, our Temple in Stoughton, who made Aliyah three years ago.)

It seems to me that every time I set foot in a tachanah h'merkazit, I have an experience. This time of course, was no exception. After about twenty minutes on the bus - a coach bus mind you! In Israel, a lot of the city-to-city buses are coach, but have standing room as well - the driver pulled over to the side of the road. At first, there was no concern, it is quite common for bus drivers to let passengers off in the middle of nowhere, instead of at an actual bus stop. However, when he pulled over for the third time on the side of the highway, and the air-conditioning on the bus went out, the sleepers started to startle, the Haredim began to become impatient, and I started to have a panic attack. The bus, we deduced, was indeed broken. Luckily, two other buses heading the the tachanah h'merkazit in Jerusalem were passing by and pulled over to lend a hand. There was a mad rush to the rescue vehicles and the whole ordeal must have lasted nothing more than five or seven minutes. We arrived in Jerusalem, sweaty and overwhelmed, but in one piece. And what a nice surprise! Harris was waiting at the tachanah h'merkazit to take us back to his apartment (by bus of course).

Thursday night the girls and I went out to Ben Yehuda Street, where people dance in the street before and after Shabbat, and there are many shops (offering many touristic things) and all different kinds of restaurants. We ate dinner, played in the street some, and then took the bus back to Harris's apartment to sleep before our busy Friday.

Friday was a day like no other. Five years ago, I went to the Kotel and the Old City of Jerusalem with my Temple Congregation. I did it again a year later with Birthright. My heart has strings that reach from Stoughton, MA to Jerusalem, Israel. That is the only way I know how to explain it. Really, there are no words to explain what Jerusalem does to me, and there are even less words to explain the song those strings play when I walk through the Jaffa Gate. For me to be able to do it again, on Shabbat, and know that I will be able to do it however many times I want to during my months in Israel, puts the biggest smile on my face. 

Rachel and Harris
as we walked
through the
Jaffa Gate.

I have tried for five years to explain to Rachel what the Old City looks like, who lives there and what they do. I've tried to tell person upon person what it feels like to touch Jerusalem stone, to kiss the Western Wall, to precociously lift yourself up on chairs to witness the men on the other side davening. There are no words. Having the good luck to witness someone experience the Kotel and the Old City for the first time is something I pray that everyone has, and to see Rachel's face as she walked through the Jaffa Gate for the first time only added to the magic of Friday. We spent a significant amount of time at the Kotel and browsing through the Old City, having lunch and hitting the Arab Shuk for a few hours to shop for scarves and bags. It was a wonderful afternoon. 

I have never, in the past, really done the whole "Shabbat" thing. I have gone to Temple on Friday nights, of course, but I have never sat down and had dinner afterward. Harris took the four of us to his Shul, a whole thirty second walk from his house (it's across the parking lot!), and what an experience it was! First of all, the Shul is Sephardic, and the four of us, separated from Harris because the Shul is also Mechitza (meaning that the women are separated from the men, whether they sit on a balcony or there is a divider) had a very hard time trying to follow the melodies. The women were beyond nice to us though, they came over and made sure we were on the correct page several times and really made us feel welcome. They were friendly and it was over all, a great experience. The service took about an hour and fifteen minutes and before we knew it, it was time for Shabbat dinner. Harris made chicken, potatoes, matzo ball soup, knishes, broccoli, salad... there was challah and desert, so much food! And it was all wonderful! I really enjoyed doing Shabbat Harris's way. I loved that dinner took hours to eat, what with the talking and the relaxing. After all, isn't that what Shabbat is all about? The food was good, the conversation was good, as was the company. I cannot wait have Shabbat at Harris's again. 

A view of the Kotel

Saturday was also a great day for me. I was able to meet up with Gery, a good friend of mine who happened to be the guard on the ATC trip in 2006, and his fiance Netta. They picked me up at Harris's and we went out to a wonderful lunch. It was fantastic to see him and wonderful to meet Netta.

As I said before, there really are no words to explain Jerusalem. I understand that some people can go there, and not feel anything at all. In the past though, I have attributed a lot of my connection to Judaism to Jerusalem. Something happens to me while I am there. I don't know that I have really felt that I was actually in Israel until I put my fingers on Jerusalem stone this weekend. I am now confident in my abilities to get there, the bus isn't that scary after all, and as Harris so many times told me, that's how you get there. 

Me, Rachel and Naomi
inside the Israeli Shuk

SIDE NOTE: While Matana, Rachel, Naomi and I were walking through the Old City, actually on our way out to head back to Harris's to ready ourselves for Shabbat, a man stopped us to make sure that we had somewhere to have Shabbat dinner. What an incredible thing. To be honest, I don't know that that would happen in America. Inviting total strangers to your house for dinner? I highly doubt it. People have been so nice, everywhere we have gone so far.

SIDE NOTE II: I learned a lot this weekend. Harris is always able to answer most of my questions with ease, and believe me, I asked a LOT of them. On a funny note, I this fun-fire owning, suburban girl learned what "end of the line" meant (much to Matana's dismay!). Coming back from the Old City on Friday we just happened to hop on the right bus, but going in the wrong direction. Unfortunately, the term "end of the line" is universal, and when we got to it, we were forced off the bus and what was supposed to be a twenty minute ride, turned into one that lasted almost two hours. But, you know what they say? Hakol Beseder. It's all good.

Thank you Harris!

Leaving Jerusalem is always hard, and this time was no exception. We said goodbye to Harris though, and hopped in a cap to get to the tachanah h'merkazit (public transportation is a little bit different on Shabbat) and caught the first bus back to Ramla. 

*A song to check out: Jerusalem, by Anouk.

Yoseftal Street

Yoseftal Street

In the past week, whether it was at the small party at the community center, or on different Sherut's, or in the Shuk, the fact that I am American has been noticed. Imagine that! I have been bombarded with questions, where am I from? What am I doing here? How long will I be in Israel and why don't I speak any Hebrew? Will I learn Hebrew? I answer these questions to the best of my ability, explaining that Yale is much too expensive a school to even consider attending back home, and that I live in Ramla, Israel. This is a huge surprise to most Israeli's, and they want to know what I'm doing there. Most of the time, when I explain that I am volunteering, they nod their heads, and agree that Ramla indeed needs a lot of work. It makes me feel good to know that I am in a place where I can actually do some good.

Ramla is beautiful in it's own way. The buildings are different... they rise from the ground, sitting on stilt like poles. We live right across from a bakery, a Shwarma shop, and a very small convenience store. The Shuk is just a short twenty minute walk. From what I understand, our apartment building is very centrally located. Yesterday, the smells coming from our building as our neighbors got ready for Shabbat were incredible and I now feel as if I have to learn how to cook a proper Shabbat dinner. 

Across from our building.

Perhaps for me the one thing that will take some getting used to is the fact that this is a city, and that there are cars, trucks and people everywhere. I have never seen so many people! At night, the sounds never stop, and the city barely sleeps, even on Shabbat. The noises are something that in time I will get used to, and in time, as my Hebrew gets better, will understand.

Ramla, Israel

To be completely honest, I have been avoiding writing this blog. This is the problem I always have as a writer. It's not that I am lazy, or that I have nothing to say, it's more of a fear of not being able to say all I want to say. How can I possibly convey all I am feeling through my writing? I have taken classes before, and will take classes again in the future, on this subject. I know it's possible to absolutely envelope a reader in my words, I even believe that I have done it a few times before, but I have this constant pit in my stomach that no matter how much I write, and no matter how much I explain, my experience will get lost through the wires. And so I know, that each Saturday when I go to try and write my blog, or journal for my own personal benefit during the week, I will sit in front of a blank screen or a blank notebook page for a few minutes, deciding what exactly the course of my words should be. I know that between each paragraph I will pause, and let the words settle on the page, let the ink soak in.

I have arrived in Ramla. Actually, I have been here since Monday. The flight was wonderful, and it was great to see Harris at the BG (complete with CRANBERRY JUICE!). The trek from BG to Ramla was not really a trek at all, in fact, it was about twenty minutes and sooner than I expected, I was at my new home for the next five months, on Yoseftal Street. I met my my roommates, and the activities began.

In the past week, I have already been to the super market, the Shuk (my favorite place on Earth!), and gone on a crazy nature hike near Mount Carmel. I also went to Haifa, to the Bahai Gardens, which were beautiful. We ate lunch in a Druze Village, and explored the gardens dedicated to Baron Rotchild, also where he is buried. I have been to two different malls already (one in Tel A'viv), by way of the Sherut, a shared taxi, with the other girls based in Ramla. What an experience! And no, I didn't blow too much money! 

Experience at the Tel A'viv Central Bus Station: On the way back from the mall, the seven of us got separated. We had to take separate Sherut's from the mall to the central bus station. I was on the first cab, and when we got the bus station we tried to find shade to wait for the other cab full of girls. It was very hot, and on the verge of Shabbat, and the cab drivers were yelling at each other, fighting over passengers and right of ways, and there was a lot of general commotion. In the midst of all the anger, a fight broke out between two men. One of the men ended up on the ground, and had his head stomped on a number of times, and I now understand the concept of "pool of blood". The fight was broken up and the man who was doing the stomping was taken away. A driver was kind enough to let us onto a Sherut to wait for the other girls. It was a scary experience, but it just proves that inner conflict happens everywhere. While we were waiting for our driver to take us back to Ramla, another Sherut hit OUR Sherut. I am going to have to get very used to Israeli driving. 

I will not lie. I was shocked when I saw our apartment, for reasons that aren't really worth getting into on my blog. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and above all, scared. I love Israel, and I have been waiting years to get back here, but I have never been here in the aspect that I am here now. I have been with my mother, and on Birthright, but this is different, one hundred percent different. But I am here, and I am going to learn to speak Hebrew, and this small town, suburban girl, is going to learn to take public transportation, something that I have never had to do before, but will be an expert at by January. I am also going to overcome my weaknesses when it comes to direction. Before long, I will be able to get myself places without the help of my human GPS, Rachel. :)

At Temple the Friday before I left for Israel, Rabbi J spoke about the amount of people coming to Israel this year from Ahavath Torah. Rachel and I are here now, Sherry and Dana will be coming soon. What an incredible thing it must be too see so many people leave for Israel with a mission, be it lending a hand, or studying, and anything in between. 

Tomorrow I begin Ulpan. I have a minor in Spanish, but I will openly say that I can understand and read much more than I can speak and write. This is problematic, especially because I spent so many years in a classroom, and devoted so many hours to the language. I will say though, despite the amount of time that I spent on Spanish, I goofed off a good amount as well. We had a fantastic class at Westfield, and because the size of the minor was so small, I spent a lot of time chatting rather than studying. This will not be the case with Ulpan. I am determined to learn as much as I can during my studies here. I am really going to put my all into learning Hebrew.

This small amount has taken me about an hour to sort through, and I am not satisfied with it. But as I said before, I haven't yet figured out how to completely explain what I want to explain through my writing. I want this blog to be deep, and meaningful, but perhaps that's asking too much. Perhaps a travel blog should be an account of my experiences, a few pictures, with a deep thought thrown in every now and then. I guess I'll have to shoot from the hip.

 

Ani bi Israel

The girls of Yoseftal Street, our home for the next five months.

Two suitcases, one carry on, one personal item

Two suitcases, one carry on, and one personal item. Perhaps Delta just doesn't realize how much clothing I actually have? 3 pairs of jeans, 15 dresses, 10 skirts. Six handfuls of shirts, a few shorts, a long sleeve-r or two. My Victoria's Secret sweatshirt, 1 pair of leggings, and 180 pairs of underwear.

Israel here I come.

And the countdown has begun!

On top of Masada. February 23, 2005

Welcome to my blog! I will openly admit that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing on here, or how to do any of it, I'm sure to the dismay of the professors who spent countless hours in the classroom with me, trying to convince me that the Web was the "way to go!" For someone who has spent their life hell-bent on working in the newspaper industry, this is more than a little unnerving. However, I am going to get over my fear of the all-consuming Internet, wash my hands of the stains from the newspapers I enjoy so much, and give the twenty-first century a try!

I am primarily interested in blogging because on August 8th, I will be embarking on the greatest adventure of my life (ok, my life so far!). I will be making my third trip to Israel, this time for six months, on a long term program called Destination Israel, run by a company called Oranim. August 8th by the way, is right around the corner, and no, I am not packed!

Five years ago, when I was at the peak of my high school career and gearing up to become a freshman at Westfield State College, my mother, brother and I joined my temple congregation for a two week trip to Israel. It was, and still remains the best experience of my life. I learned more in those two weeks about who I was, what I wanted to do, and how important it was to be Jewish and a part of my Jewish Community, than I did in a lot of years in Hebrew School and a lot of Fridays spent in services. Israel changed my life, it turned the world as I knew it upside down, and it gave me an itch for travel that I have been trying to scratch ever since.

In the years since 2006 I have made it back to Israel once, for a Birthright tour. I have also taken classes and done studies in Italy. I have realized that there really is no limit to what you can do if you set your mind to it and if you have the right people helping you along the way. (Thanks Mom!) And so, in 9 days, I will get on a plane bound for Israel, again. This time, I will go with the goal of being completely immersed into the language and the culture of the country (not as a tourist) and the anticipation of what I am about to do is just about making me burst at the seams! Not to mention, I will have someone fantastic by my side. My very best friend Rachel is coming with me, and together, we are going to have the trip of a lifetime.

Join me as I travel through Israel and share my thoughts, pictures, and experiences here on Oh... the places you go! (Absolutely inspired by the Great Dr. Seuss!) It is going to be an incredible ride.