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.