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.