Thursday, December 31, 2009
Taking in Georgia – a beautiful bit of culture shock
Before yesterday, I didn't know very much about Georgia. I knew Georgians were kinda like Russians and there was a significant community of them here in Israel. But that was about it. So last night, my roommate, who has a Georgian grandmother, brought me to a full-on Georgian wedding at a hotel here in Tel Aviv. About 10 minutes from our home, I was not prepared for a night of serious culture shock. First of all, the dress. At all the Israeli weddings I've been to thus far, Israelis dress so casual I've seen grooms without suits and guests in jeans and flip flops. Georgians take it to the opposite extreme. The women are decked out to the NINES – we're talking full length, tight, scrunched, sequined, and diamond-encrusted ballroom gowns. Every single one of them had been to the hairdresser that day and their heads adorned bees nests of hairsprayed ringlets and glittering jewels from their collarbones to their fingers to the heels of their 6-inch shoes. And there was a lot of gel happening among the men, who proudly displayed their perfectly polished and cleavage-accented wives on their arms. Needless to say, my roommate and I stood out in our plainness. And our non-marriedness. This particular bride and groom had gone above and beyond a million shekels on this wedding. The food was first class, and abundant beyond imagination. The number one most powerful wedding planner in Israel was running the show. And a show it was. Around 9pm the guests were ushered from the preliminary cocktail room (which had a smorgasbord of food) to the chupa room – boasting a prominent raised white runway leading to a stage-size chupa blooming from every edge with white roses. They hired some famous singers who stood at the far end of the runway, singing hauntingly beautiful Judaic melodies to the family members as each made their way down the aisle. Now from what I understand, Georgians value nothing higher than family. You can see how big a role the family plays. (They also marry very young – I could have sworn the grandmother was the mother. She looked impossibly good to be a grandmother. But you can see that just about everyone over the age of 21 was married. Which was a shock to me all its own.) So the two mothers walked down the aisle together holding up beautiful tall candlesticks. The groom and his father came down the aisle, and then the bride with her father. The bride and her father stopped halfway, and then the groom came back down toward them, hugged the father, the father walked away, and then he took the bride, kissed her forehead, and lowered the veil over her face. She was stunning. An absolute Cinderella. The ceremony proceeded, and one thing I liked was that they incorporate actual dancing as part of the chupa ceremony. He lifted her veil once more to ascertain that it was she, broke the traditional glass, and then they finally kissed. From there we were ushered into the main hall. It was like a king's ballroom. After we had been seated and eaten enough salads and fish and appetizers to suffice a meal, the king and queen – I mean the bride and groom! - were heralded by a blasting trumpet and dimmed lights. They took the spotlight in a beautiful fairy tale dance, after which everyone else joined the dance floor. But there was no hora. No hora! A Jewish wedding with no hora! I couldn't believe it. The Georgians are big on the hand dance instead. Also they had hired a top-rate band which included a dozen professional dancers in moulin rouge outfits. The whole scene kinda felt like a blend of moulin rouge, a king's ball, and a high school prom. I just couldn't stop staring at everything. Also the bride and groom had made this video, it was like a music video, about themselves and imagining different scenarios they might have met (they actually met through a matchmaker). It was displayed on screens across the walls. It was cheezy and cute. The party was gonna go til 7am but after the meat course was served at 1am, we decided not to stick around for dessert. Georgia is just another world entirely. But definitely one that's nice to look at!
Monday, December 28, 2009
If there's any justice out there... please come forward now
This is what I call an I Hate Israel day. For those who don't know me too well don't take it too seriously -- I still love Israel with all my heart, soul and mind. It's just that I'm extremely angry.
Might we start with mentioning the fact that I almost got beaten with a cane by an old lady on the street today. It sounds funny until you're actually in the situation. I was simply waiting for the use of an atm, which an old lady was blocking and I couldn't tell if she was arriving or departing. I offered very politely in Hebrew to help her, and she shouted at me to back off. I took a step back, and as she was slowly moving away from the atm, I slowly moved forward. She got angry by my approach and suddenly lashed out at me with her cane. Luckily she missed, but I and the other pedestrians around me were simply speechless. That's what you get for offering to help!
But no. I would like to dedicate this particular blog post to my landlord, the one and only Yitzhak Gaffney. If there was ever any question in my mind as to whether someone could be both Jewish and pure evil, Yitzhak answered it. I could fill a book with the number of grievances my roommates and I have accumulated in a short 6 months against this money-making manipulative liar. But I'll spare you. This is just the update from this week. He calls us at 11pm to inform us that men will be doing renovations on the roof starting at 10am. At 7am I awake to what sounded like drilling on my head. We go up and find workmen beginning what would be a roof-replacement project. We call our landlord to ask what exactly is going on and all he tells us is that the contract we signed allows for him to do renovations of any kind at any time. And that we better move our things away from the part of the ceiling that will soon be open to the sky. One of the workmen who knows us pulled my roommate aside and tells her that he's only telling us this because he sees that we are good people - but the truth is that our landlord picked us as tenants this year because he knew he would need to do serious renovations on the apartment and wanted olim chadashim who would be powerless to stand up to him. And that we were going to be in big trouble if it rains, because without a roof, our entire apartment will flood. Oh, and because of the roof renovations, our dud shemesh (water heater) got broken and we have no hot water. My roommates and I didn't know what to panic about first. I called my landlord about the lack of hot water and he gave me the name of a fix-it man to call. The man I call tells me he's about to fly to Thailand and I should talk to his brother who will come in his place. When I talk to his brother he tells me he hasn't heard anything about this and isn't coming. When I call my landlord to tell him this, his phone is off and he doesn't call me back. So I went up to the roof and found one of the men working there, and asked if he would take a look at the dud shemesh for me. He told me he would. Even though this is absolutely not his project. But it is my only hope. Until then, I've showered at my boyfriend's parents' house, my friend Jen's house, and my neighbor Zevik's house. I'm starting to feel like a wandering showerer. Upon hearing this story, some of our friends have laughed that now we know what it feels like to be homeless and we should appreciate what we do have. I might feel more grateful if I wasn't paying so much rent to a man who doesn't have the decency to return his tenant's phone call, nevertheless supply us with hot water. Actually you know what he said? He told me to shower in the afternoon when the water would be naturally warmed by the sun. Because of course I'm home in the middle of the day with nothing else to do but shower! And what makes me the most angry is that our landlord is a millionaire who owns our whole building plus several hotels, and he doesn't have a shred of decency to see us as the zionist, optimist, young new immigrants that we are, demanding nothing more than a solid roof over our heads - he takes total advantage of us, and there's absolutely nothing we can do.
Oh, and is there any chance the drilling might start at a more reasonable hour, say 8am? Just be grateful it's 7am and not 6 was my answer. That's Israel for ya.
For anyone considering moving to Israel, always remember - we don't move here because Israel is a Mediterranean version of America. Far from it. It's the Jewish homeland, and we live here despite everything that comes with that.
Might we start with mentioning the fact that I almost got beaten with a cane by an old lady on the street today. It sounds funny until you're actually in the situation. I was simply waiting for the use of an atm, which an old lady was blocking and I couldn't tell if she was arriving or departing. I offered very politely in Hebrew to help her, and she shouted at me to back off. I took a step back, and as she was slowly moving away from the atm, I slowly moved forward. She got angry by my approach and suddenly lashed out at me with her cane. Luckily she missed, but I and the other pedestrians around me were simply speechless. That's what you get for offering to help!
But no. I would like to dedicate this particular blog post to my landlord, the one and only Yitzhak Gaffney. If there was ever any question in my mind as to whether someone could be both Jewish and pure evil, Yitzhak answered it. I could fill a book with the number of grievances my roommates and I have accumulated in a short 6 months against this money-making manipulative liar. But I'll spare you. This is just the update from this week. He calls us at 11pm to inform us that men will be doing renovations on the roof starting at 10am. At 7am I awake to what sounded like drilling on my head. We go up and find workmen beginning what would be a roof-replacement project. We call our landlord to ask what exactly is going on and all he tells us is that the contract we signed allows for him to do renovations of any kind at any time. And that we better move our things away from the part of the ceiling that will soon be open to the sky. One of the workmen who knows us pulled my roommate aside and tells her that he's only telling us this because he sees that we are good people - but the truth is that our landlord picked us as tenants this year because he knew he would need to do serious renovations on the apartment and wanted olim chadashim who would be powerless to stand up to him. And that we were going to be in big trouble if it rains, because without a roof, our entire apartment will flood. Oh, and because of the roof renovations, our dud shemesh (water heater) got broken and we have no hot water. My roommates and I didn't know what to panic about first. I called my landlord about the lack of hot water and he gave me the name of a fix-it man to call. The man I call tells me he's about to fly to Thailand and I should talk to his brother who will come in his place. When I talk to his brother he tells me he hasn't heard anything about this and isn't coming. When I call my landlord to tell him this, his phone is off and he doesn't call me back. So I went up to the roof and found one of the men working there, and asked if he would take a look at the dud shemesh for me. He told me he would. Even though this is absolutely not his project. But it is my only hope. Until then, I've showered at my boyfriend's parents' house, my friend Jen's house, and my neighbor Zevik's house. I'm starting to feel like a wandering showerer. Upon hearing this story, some of our friends have laughed that now we know what it feels like to be homeless and we should appreciate what we do have. I might feel more grateful if I wasn't paying so much rent to a man who doesn't have the decency to return his tenant's phone call, nevertheless supply us with hot water. Actually you know what he said? He told me to shower in the afternoon when the water would be naturally warmed by the sun. Because of course I'm home in the middle of the day with nothing else to do but shower! And what makes me the most angry is that our landlord is a millionaire who owns our whole building plus several hotels, and he doesn't have a shred of decency to see us as the zionist, optimist, young new immigrants that we are, demanding nothing more than a solid roof over our heads - he takes total advantage of us, and there's absolutely nothing we can do.
Oh, and is there any chance the drilling might start at a more reasonable hour, say 8am? Just be grateful it's 7am and not 6 was my answer. That's Israel for ya.
For anyone considering moving to Israel, always remember - we don't move here because Israel is a Mediterranean version of America. Far from it. It's the Jewish homeland, and we live here despite everything that comes with that.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Chanukah in shorts and a t-shirt
The highlight of my Chanukah experience in Israel was definitely Festigal. "Festigal" is an annual Chanukah commerical performance for children, starring major Israeli music celebrities. I never would have gone had it not been for the girl I babysit for, who asked me to take her. I figured it would be good Hebrew practice, and had no idea I would enjoy it so much. I was very impressed; I truly didn't know Israel was capable of such a high-calibre musical show. What I really loved was the imparting message of the play-within-the play: there are two warring "sides" and at the climax they decide to choose love and peace over continued warfare. They come together saying "my grandfather's grandfather's grandfather was the brother of your grandfather's grandfather's grandfather", and one character even says, "It's just like us and the Arabs." It was so blatant that the mission of the play was to teach children love and peace over hate and war. I was so touched to see that, in a context where it wasn't even necessary to go there. This was simply a Chanukah celebration. But Israelis truly try to take every opportunity to impart messages of peace. I wonder if anywhere in an Arab land such a show would ever take place...
My Chanukah celebration concluded with a trip to the Dead Sea, which was wonderful. It was warm enough to sunbathe in a bathing suit, but the water was very cold. At first we were worried about traveling there in the first place because the rest of the country was experiencing heavy rain, and being that the Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth, it can suffer from deadly flooding. Especially because you're driving down steep cliffs to get to the Dead Sea, flooding can make rocks fall, which is even scarier. But everything stayed calm and dry, and we had a wonderful, relaxing time.
It's funny that Christmas is in 2 days. It's impossible to know it here. Christmas is just a totally regular day. You wouldn't even know that it exists, except for the fact that Israel gets an influx of visitors now coming on their xmas break. Today was sunny and warm and I went for a run on the beach in shorts and a t-shirt. I can't believe it's December! It doesn't get much better than this :-)
My Chanukah celebration concluded with a trip to the Dead Sea, which was wonderful. It was warm enough to sunbathe in a bathing suit, but the water was very cold. At first we were worried about traveling there in the first place because the rest of the country was experiencing heavy rain, and being that the Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth, it can suffer from deadly flooding. Especially because you're driving down steep cliffs to get to the Dead Sea, flooding can make rocks fall, which is even scarier. But everything stayed calm and dry, and we had a wonderful, relaxing time.
It's funny that Christmas is in 2 days. It's impossible to know it here. Christmas is just a totally regular day. You wouldn't even know that it exists, except for the fact that Israel gets an influx of visitors now coming on their xmas break. Today was sunny and warm and I went for a run on the beach in shorts and a t-shirt. I can't believe it's December! It doesn't get much better than this :-)
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Since my return to Israel from my trip to America, I've had a few firsts.
Today was my first time at the movie theatre seeing a movie in Hebrew. The girl I babysit for wanted me to take her to see a children's movie, and I figured if there was any movie in Hebrew I might understand, it would be a children's movie. I definitely "got" the movie, even though there were more than a few sentences that went over my head. But it was a cool experience.
Two nights ago was my first time calling the police in Israel. At 11pm my roommates and I were unable to go to sleep because of the loud drilling in the street outside our apartment. We could hear all the neighbors yelling about it so we figured someone would do something. But after the continued ruckus, I decided to take matters into my own hands. When I called to complain, the police informed me that this particular construction had permission to do what it was doing, even at this hour, and I was promptly hung up on. Thankfully my bedroom doubles as a bomb shelter and when I fully lock everything down, it gets pretty soundproof.
This Thursday is my last day of ulpan. I thought I would be crushed that it was ending but actually, I'm quite relieved. I feel burned out and ready for a break. And I also feel equipped to take my Hebrew learning into my hands from now on. I have come a long way. (Hey, I can even call the police in Hebrew!)
I learned, though, why sometimes I feel Hebrew doesn't quite capture what I'm trying to say. I discovered that there are about 50,000 words in the Hebrew language, and about 250,000 in the English language. That definitely would explain it!
I've been taking a little break from my daily commute via bicycle, due to the "rainy season". It's a bit amusing to see how people go into panic mode during the rainstorms. All I can say is I would not want to be a Tel Aviv bus driver on a rainy day. The buses are packed, and it seems everyone is having a crisis. One man is yelling at the driver for forgetting to tell him where to disembark even though he requested it three times, some old grandpa just remembered to ask if we've passed yet a stop that we passed 3 stops ago, another woman is soaked through and upset that the previous bus wouldn't stop for her, etc etc, all with dripping umbrellas and raincoats and children yelling make up for a typical Israeli scene on a rainy day. I just love it.
On a "brighter" note, Chanukah is almost upon us. The kiosks and grocery stores are showcasing their menorahs, candles, sufganiyot, dreidels, and all the other items to meet your Chanukah needs. Chanukah is one of my favorite holidays and I've already begun to indulge in the scrumptious, chocolate/jelly/cream-filled and frosting/sprinkle-coated sufganiyot (chanukah donuts). They're sold from little street stands on practically every corner. Israel truly can be a dangerous place to live!
Today was my first time at the movie theatre seeing a movie in Hebrew. The girl I babysit for wanted me to take her to see a children's movie, and I figured if there was any movie in Hebrew I might understand, it would be a children's movie. I definitely "got" the movie, even though there were more than a few sentences that went over my head. But it was a cool experience.
Two nights ago was my first time calling the police in Israel. At 11pm my roommates and I were unable to go to sleep because of the loud drilling in the street outside our apartment. We could hear all the neighbors yelling about it so we figured someone would do something. But after the continued ruckus, I decided to take matters into my own hands. When I called to complain, the police informed me that this particular construction had permission to do what it was doing, even at this hour, and I was promptly hung up on. Thankfully my bedroom doubles as a bomb shelter and when I fully lock everything down, it gets pretty soundproof.
This Thursday is my last day of ulpan. I thought I would be crushed that it was ending but actually, I'm quite relieved. I feel burned out and ready for a break. And I also feel equipped to take my Hebrew learning into my hands from now on. I have come a long way. (Hey, I can even call the police in Hebrew!)
I learned, though, why sometimes I feel Hebrew doesn't quite capture what I'm trying to say. I discovered that there are about 50,000 words in the Hebrew language, and about 250,000 in the English language. That definitely would explain it!
I've been taking a little break from my daily commute via bicycle, due to the "rainy season". It's a bit amusing to see how people go into panic mode during the rainstorms. All I can say is I would not want to be a Tel Aviv bus driver on a rainy day. The buses are packed, and it seems everyone is having a crisis. One man is yelling at the driver for forgetting to tell him where to disembark even though he requested it three times, some old grandpa just remembered to ask if we've passed yet a stop that we passed 3 stops ago, another woman is soaked through and upset that the previous bus wouldn't stop for her, etc etc, all with dripping umbrellas and raincoats and children yelling make up for a typical Israeli scene on a rainy day. I just love it.
On a "brighter" note, Chanukah is almost upon us. The kiosks and grocery stores are showcasing their menorahs, candles, sufganiyot, dreidels, and all the other items to meet your Chanukah needs. Chanukah is one of my favorite holidays and I've already begun to indulge in the scrumptious, chocolate/jelly/cream-filled and frosting/sprinkle-coated sufganiyot (chanukah donuts). They're sold from little street stands on practically every corner. Israel truly can be a dangerous place to live!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
A small tribute
I've realized – men are amazing. I don't know where so many women in this world would be without their men. Just in the past couple days of catching up with old friends and reflecting on my new ones in Israel, it dawned on me that our men are holding us together. The 20's are a difficult time, and without naming specific names, many of my close female friends and relatives are going through some very challenging changes. And it's the boyfriends that seem to offer the ultimate source of strength, and support, and sustenance. But not in an unhealthy dependent way. In a beautiful way. In a selfless, purely loving, mutually surviving way. Like in Israel, I can't even begin to describe the number of olot chadashot (new female immigrants) who are making it through the daily Israeli challenges because of the love and support of their boyfriends. Myself included. I don't know if the olim chadashim (new male immigrants) are getting the same level of support from Israeli girls. I doubt it. But we new Israeli women are so lucky to have our strong Israeli men – without them, god knows, the number of long-term surviving olot chadashot would surely be much less! Thank you God for our men. Amen!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Back in the USA
Well, I made it to America. It was quite an exhausting journey, more so than past trips. There were some new challenges. Like when I was going through Israeli customs, there is a line for "Israeli Passports" and a line for "Foreign Passports", and I didn't know which line to go to. Technically I don't have an Israeli passport yet, I have a teudat ma'avar, so I asked an airport employee which line to go to, and they told me I had the option to pick. So I went with "foreign passports" only because at that moment the line was shorter. When I got up to my turn, the employee scolded me for being in the wrong line, because "I'm an Israeli now" so I should be in the Israeli line, even though I don't have a passport yet. Oh, whatever. Then when I got to America of course I used my American passport, and it was strange answering the custom man's questions - such as, "What are you doing in Israel?" "Um, I live there now," was my reply. "Well, welcome home," he said, and it just felt strange, like he didn't realize that for me, this trip was more than a visit than a return home. But I realize the truth is that I have more than one home. New York is one of my homes, Boston is one of my homes, and Israel is now my ultimate home. The most striking thing since I've been walking around NYC the past couple days is just hearing English all the time everywhere on the streets. It's so strange not to hear Hebrew! and when we go to a restaurant, I can easily understand the menu. It feels so easy, too easy. It's also weird to see how much water there is in the toilet bowls. I forget how much water! I don't have to be conscious so much of letting the water run in the sink. America is the land of plenty! We went to CVS and there's just so much, so much of everything - and we went to a typical NYC bagel deli, and it was just heaven. American heaven. Cupcakes and muffins and cream cheeses of every flavor, in tofu version, in lite versions, in every variety a New Yorker could possibly desire. It's easy to love New York. And the service felt like a shock too - at dinner last night, the waitresses were so nice. And so attentive. Always refilling our water glasses without our even requesting it. I can't wait for the day that Israelis learn the concept of customer service. It's such a beautiful thing! But, on the other hand, it's cold here. It's not even cold for northeast winter standards yet, but to me and my Tel Aviv-accustomed skin, it's cold. But its ok, I can handle it for 10 days :-)
and its wonderful to be with my family. there's nothing better, nothing more comforting than hanging out on the couch catching up with my sisters and playing with my 1-year-old nephew and eating home-baked banana bread. really, nothing better. its just amazing how airplanes can bring you so quickly from one world to the next. this world is so familiar to me. but israel is the world of my heart. and in one day of travel, it feels like i've swapped lives. but its comforting to know that all of this is only a plane ride away.
and its wonderful to be with my family. there's nothing better, nothing more comforting than hanging out on the couch catching up with my sisters and playing with my 1-year-old nephew and eating home-baked banana bread. really, nothing better. its just amazing how airplanes can bring you so quickly from one world to the next. this world is so familiar to me. but israel is the world of my heart. and in one day of travel, it feels like i've swapped lives. but its comforting to know that all of this is only a plane ride away.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Signing off to America
Tomorrow I'm flying to America, for the first time since I made aliyah. I'm going to NYC and Boston for 10 days to visit family and friends and celebrate Thanksgiving.
I have such mixed feelings about my trip "home" that it's hard to reconcile how I'm feeling right now. On the one hand, I'm SO excited to see my family and friends... on the other, I have no desire to leave Israel. Not even for a minute.
I've realized that my feelings for Israel are much the same as my feelings for my boyfriend -- I'm madly in love with both. The same passion, intensity and devotion I feel towards my boyfriend, and the feeling of wanting to be with him all the time and how hard it is to be apart from him for even a day, captures exactly how I feel about Israel. Being outside of Israel feels so unnatural - this is the place I want to be, all the time! This is my life, my heart, my soul mate! I know that when I'm in America I'll feel sooo happy to be reunited with my loved ones. But ultimately, my heart is here, in Israel, and I know I'll never feel as happy on the plane ride to America as I will on the plane back to Israel.
I also had an emotionally mixed week this week because I was filmed for 2 "movies" -- one was a promo movie for Ebenezer, a pro-Israel Christian group, and the other a documentary about olim chadashim in Tel Aviv. In both interviews I was asked to describe my feelings about my aliyah experience, and the questions probed me to deeply contemplate and articulate my feelings about life in Israel. In both interviews I was asked whether I believe all Jews should move to Israel, and I realized that's a difficult question for me to answer. I was asked to define the city of Tel Aviv, and what I would do if God forbid bombs rained down on Tel Aviv. All the heavy questioning combined with the fact that I'm "packing up" for my first trip back to the states has culminated in a contemplative Libbie.
What I do know is that I'm very excited to see my people, and 10 days will go by quickly - which may be a good thing and not such a good thing. But like my love, Israel will be here waiting for me, and that's my ultimate comfort.
I have such mixed feelings about my trip "home" that it's hard to reconcile how I'm feeling right now. On the one hand, I'm SO excited to see my family and friends... on the other, I have no desire to leave Israel. Not even for a minute.
I've realized that my feelings for Israel are much the same as my feelings for my boyfriend -- I'm madly in love with both. The same passion, intensity and devotion I feel towards my boyfriend, and the feeling of wanting to be with him all the time and how hard it is to be apart from him for even a day, captures exactly how I feel about Israel. Being outside of Israel feels so unnatural - this is the place I want to be, all the time! This is my life, my heart, my soul mate! I know that when I'm in America I'll feel sooo happy to be reunited with my loved ones. But ultimately, my heart is here, in Israel, and I know I'll never feel as happy on the plane ride to America as I will on the plane back to Israel.
I also had an emotionally mixed week this week because I was filmed for 2 "movies" -- one was a promo movie for Ebenezer, a pro-Israel Christian group, and the other a documentary about olim chadashim in Tel Aviv. In both interviews I was asked to describe my feelings about my aliyah experience, and the questions probed me to deeply contemplate and articulate my feelings about life in Israel. In both interviews I was asked whether I believe all Jews should move to Israel, and I realized that's a difficult question for me to answer. I was asked to define the city of Tel Aviv, and what I would do if God forbid bombs rained down on Tel Aviv. All the heavy questioning combined with the fact that I'm "packing up" for my first trip back to the states has culminated in a contemplative Libbie.
What I do know is that I'm very excited to see my people, and 10 days will go by quickly - which may be a good thing and not such a good thing. But like my love, Israel will be here waiting for me, and that's my ultimate comfort.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
With the rain, Israel feels like a reality
The rainy season is officially upon Tel Aviv. It came so suddenly. One day we were suntanning on our balcony in 82 degree weather, and literally 3 days later it was cold, dark, and pouring rain. It suddenly didn't feel like Israel anymore. With the rain and gloomy atmosphere, it feels like a totally different place.
What's funny is that every Israeli knows that the rain will come eventually, around this time of year. And yet, it seems that everyone waits until the first torrential downpour before rushing in the masses to buy umbrellas and rain boots. You can picture a madhouse, to say the least! I wasn't prepared for the rain either because I never check the weather forecast here. For the past 6 months the forecast has literally been the same every day -- "hot and sunny." "hot and sunny." But now we have entered the time of year I have come to think of as: "check the forecast" season :-)
Like the rain, Hebrew is permeating my brain. I'm trying to swallow so much Hebrew each day - between my classroom hours, homework, and social immersion - that I even dream about Hebrew grammar. I guess that would make my teacher proud. It never ceases to amaze me what learning a language so intensively like this does to the brain. I am losing English words. I dream in an elaborate conglomeration of Hebrew and English. I find myself speaking English incorrectly at times, with the same intonations that Israelis speak it. While I still feel a natural need to turn to English in most serious situations, at the same time I feel certain Hebrew phrases express my feelings the best. I understand TV in Hebrew ten times better when there are Hebrew subtitles than when there aren't. There are times I have exciting accomplishments, like going to see a movie in Hebrew and understanding half of it, or watching children's TV shows with the girl I babysit for and I understand nearly everything. But then, after feeling like I've come so far, my boyfriend will say one simple sentence to me and I don't understand him at all. That's the ultimate in frustrating. So it's hard to guage what level I'm at -- I just feel like I'm in a brain overload most of the time!
My fellow olim chadashim (new immigrants) in my ulpan class and I are getting closer after all these long mornings together, day after day. I don't know if my teacher planned this on purpose, but this week we started learning all the words for feelings. She was smart to wait until we were really comfortable with one another before doing the exercise that we did. As with all new material, we practice the vocabulary by using examples from our lives (our teacher is opposed to hypothetical examples because they don't 'stick to the brain' as well - and she's right). anyway, it was a small class that day, and we went around sharing sentences using the feelings "frustrated" or "scared" or "disappointed", etc. I don't know if it was the sound of the rain or the small class atmosphere that day, but whatever it was, people started sharing personal things and really opening up. There is one woman in particular, a 42-year-old immigrant from Russia, who came here with her 18-year-old daughter to be with an Israeli man. Things didn't go exactly as planned and they broke up. Now she is trying to make ends meet by cleaning buildings all night, and struggling to build a social life on her own. She shared with us how depressed and hopeless she feels, and I could see by our teacher's reaction that she's not only an experienced Hebrew teacher after working with olim chadashim for several decades, but also an experienced therapist. There were tears in my class that day, and it became clear to all of us that we're not just struggling to master this language together, but we're all sharing a simliar struggle outside the classroom as well.
I left class feeling my heart open. I went to a yoga class and poured all my effort and energy into the postures. I sweated as if it was the rain drenching me. During the rest period at the end, our instructor turned off the lights and placed scented eye bags over our eyelids, and we relaxed into the ground, soothed by the gentle rhythm of the rain on the ceiling. I felt a glimmer of realization that this is it - at the end of the day, it's just our heavy bones that are left on the ground, in the darkness and the silence and the rain - and our souls are so much more than that. God gave us the power to create anything that we want, to become anything we want to be. That is why the world is full of so many wonderful and so many horrible things - he wants us to see our endless potential. And by not letting us know what happens after we die, he gives us the only true motivation possible to strive for the absolute best. There is reason why we don't know what will happen. How else can we appreciate life?
I invited my Russian ulpan friend to come to a yoga class with me next week. I hope it will be a positive experience for her. We all need to be reminded of how precious life is, and how much infinite power rests between our simple bones. Israel can be a struggle, and Israel can be wonderful. We have to seize her with a determined smile.
What's funny is that every Israeli knows that the rain will come eventually, around this time of year. And yet, it seems that everyone waits until the first torrential downpour before rushing in the masses to buy umbrellas and rain boots. You can picture a madhouse, to say the least! I wasn't prepared for the rain either because I never check the weather forecast here. For the past 6 months the forecast has literally been the same every day -- "hot and sunny." "hot and sunny." But now we have entered the time of year I have come to think of as: "check the forecast" season :-)
Like the rain, Hebrew is permeating my brain. I'm trying to swallow so much Hebrew each day - between my classroom hours, homework, and social immersion - that I even dream about Hebrew grammar. I guess that would make my teacher proud. It never ceases to amaze me what learning a language so intensively like this does to the brain. I am losing English words. I dream in an elaborate conglomeration of Hebrew and English. I find myself speaking English incorrectly at times, with the same intonations that Israelis speak it. While I still feel a natural need to turn to English in most serious situations, at the same time I feel certain Hebrew phrases express my feelings the best. I understand TV in Hebrew ten times better when there are Hebrew subtitles than when there aren't. There are times I have exciting accomplishments, like going to see a movie in Hebrew and understanding half of it, or watching children's TV shows with the girl I babysit for and I understand nearly everything. But then, after feeling like I've come so far, my boyfriend will say one simple sentence to me and I don't understand him at all. That's the ultimate in frustrating. So it's hard to guage what level I'm at -- I just feel like I'm in a brain overload most of the time!
My fellow olim chadashim (new immigrants) in my ulpan class and I are getting closer after all these long mornings together, day after day. I don't know if my teacher planned this on purpose, but this week we started learning all the words for feelings. She was smart to wait until we were really comfortable with one another before doing the exercise that we did. As with all new material, we practice the vocabulary by using examples from our lives (our teacher is opposed to hypothetical examples because they don't 'stick to the brain' as well - and she's right). anyway, it was a small class that day, and we went around sharing sentences using the feelings "frustrated" or "scared" or "disappointed", etc. I don't know if it was the sound of the rain or the small class atmosphere that day, but whatever it was, people started sharing personal things and really opening up. There is one woman in particular, a 42-year-old immigrant from Russia, who came here with her 18-year-old daughter to be with an Israeli man. Things didn't go exactly as planned and they broke up. Now she is trying to make ends meet by cleaning buildings all night, and struggling to build a social life on her own. She shared with us how depressed and hopeless she feels, and I could see by our teacher's reaction that she's not only an experienced Hebrew teacher after working with olim chadashim for several decades, but also an experienced therapist. There were tears in my class that day, and it became clear to all of us that we're not just struggling to master this language together, but we're all sharing a simliar struggle outside the classroom as well.
I left class feeling my heart open. I went to a yoga class and poured all my effort and energy into the postures. I sweated as if it was the rain drenching me. During the rest period at the end, our instructor turned off the lights and placed scented eye bags over our eyelids, and we relaxed into the ground, soothed by the gentle rhythm of the rain on the ceiling. I felt a glimmer of realization that this is it - at the end of the day, it's just our heavy bones that are left on the ground, in the darkness and the silence and the rain - and our souls are so much more than that. God gave us the power to create anything that we want, to become anything we want to be. That is why the world is full of so many wonderful and so many horrible things - he wants us to see our endless potential. And by not letting us know what happens after we die, he gives us the only true motivation possible to strive for the absolute best. There is reason why we don't know what will happen. How else can we appreciate life?
I invited my Russian ulpan friend to come to a yoga class with me next week. I hope it will be a positive experience for her. We all need to be reminded of how precious life is, and how much infinite power rests between our simple bones. Israel can be a struggle, and Israel can be wonderful. We have to seize her with a determined smile.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Living in ruach
I think this time of year, end of summer/beginning of fall, may be my favorite time of year in Tel Aviv. It's still hot enough to be at the beach every day, but cools off enough at night to not need air conditioning. There's a pleasant breeze, and less tourists. Tel Aviv has quieted somewhat, like now she's back to breathing as her natural self.
We recently celebrated Simchat Torah, the holiday celebrating the fact that God gave us the Torah. I joined in the traditional synagogue song and dance, but the most special part of the holiday for me was when I was sitting at a streetside cafe and a spontaneous crowd of people came singing and dancing down the street, Torah scrolls bouncing in the air among them. There was such genuine joy on everyone's faces, religious and secular alike, young and old, passing noisily down the street - everyone simply joyful for our Torah. It's not something you see in the diaspora. In the diaspora we generally limit our religious celebrations to the home and the synagogue. But here on a main street in central Tel Aviv, traffic stopped in the middle of the evening for everyone to come together and just have fun and be happy for our Torah. It was affecting.
In other news, I got to see my dear Charles Jacobs last week - which was wonderful - and a few thought-provoking comments came up in our conversation. He was explaining why he believes in God, and said no reason makes him more convinced of God's existence than the fact that the Jews are still alive. He argues there is no good reason why we should still be around - we are "politically stupid", always persecuted, outnumbered, etc etc, but 3,000 years later we're still kicking - so there must be a reason for it. There must be a God. I agree!
Charles and I also discussed the problematic birth rates in Europe - Christian Europeans on average are having 1 or 2 children per couple, while the number of Muslim births in Europe is skyrocketing. Charles attributes this to secularism - Europeans are becoming less religious. He argues that religion, or having religious beliefs, is the main motivation to have children. So without this, of course secular Europeans are choosing to spend their money on restaurants over baby toys. I think his point is interesting and probably true in many cases, but I wouldn't conclude 100% that all reproduction is motivated by some sort of religious faith. I think for the majority it's true, but some people who may not believe in God still understand that love is the most powerful force in the universe, and choose to have children to share in that love. But I've asked quite a few people here what they think, and most seem to agree with Charles. What does motivate a person to have 10 children instead of 2?
Speaking of love, I went to a wedding in southern Israel 2 nights ago, and it was magnificent. 600 people attended the wedding, which is somewhat normal in Israel. The average wedding here has about 400 guests. Anyway, just to give an example of how bad Israelis are with anything time-related, the wedding invitation called for a 6:30 start. My Israeli boyfriend insisted we didn't need to get there til 8pm which I thought was rude, and we argued practically the whole way about whether we would be early or late. Well, the wedding started at 9. That's just a small taste of how Israelis perceive time :-)
The groom was the first of many grandchildren in a large family to get married. The proud grandfather, who had probably waited his whole life for this moment, was perched in a wheelchair beside the stage that the bride and groom ascended for the ceremony. As the bride and groom walked down the long column formed by the 600 guests leading up to the chupa, the bride stopped and kissed the grandfather on the cheek before she continued on her way. The grandfather just broke down - it was like his face broke open and he was shaking crying with joy and emotion. I couldn't even look at him, it made me feel like my heart was going to rip open and I would cry and cry. Even the caretaker standing by his side couldn't hold back the tears.
And being at the wedding, I felt again why I love so much to be in Israel - the ruach. (spirit/energy). Everyone was just so joyful, so full of energy, so celebratory. The dancing didn't stop from beginning to end. The meals were served and cleared and the dance floor never once emptied. The best thing about Israelis - definitely their ruach.
We recently celebrated Simchat Torah, the holiday celebrating the fact that God gave us the Torah. I joined in the traditional synagogue song and dance, but the most special part of the holiday for me was when I was sitting at a streetside cafe and a spontaneous crowd of people came singing and dancing down the street, Torah scrolls bouncing in the air among them. There was such genuine joy on everyone's faces, religious and secular alike, young and old, passing noisily down the street - everyone simply joyful for our Torah. It's not something you see in the diaspora. In the diaspora we generally limit our religious celebrations to the home and the synagogue. But here on a main street in central Tel Aviv, traffic stopped in the middle of the evening for everyone to come together and just have fun and be happy for our Torah. It was affecting.
In other news, I got to see my dear Charles Jacobs last week - which was wonderful - and a few thought-provoking comments came up in our conversation. He was explaining why he believes in God, and said no reason makes him more convinced of God's existence than the fact that the Jews are still alive. He argues there is no good reason why we should still be around - we are "politically stupid", always persecuted, outnumbered, etc etc, but 3,000 years later we're still kicking - so there must be a reason for it. There must be a God. I agree!
Charles and I also discussed the problematic birth rates in Europe - Christian Europeans on average are having 1 or 2 children per couple, while the number of Muslim births in Europe is skyrocketing. Charles attributes this to secularism - Europeans are becoming less religious. He argues that religion, or having religious beliefs, is the main motivation to have children. So without this, of course secular Europeans are choosing to spend their money on restaurants over baby toys. I think his point is interesting and probably true in many cases, but I wouldn't conclude 100% that all reproduction is motivated by some sort of religious faith. I think for the majority it's true, but some people who may not believe in God still understand that love is the most powerful force in the universe, and choose to have children to share in that love. But I've asked quite a few people here what they think, and most seem to agree with Charles. What does motivate a person to have 10 children instead of 2?
Speaking of love, I went to a wedding in southern Israel 2 nights ago, and it was magnificent. 600 people attended the wedding, which is somewhat normal in Israel. The average wedding here has about 400 guests. Anyway, just to give an example of how bad Israelis are with anything time-related, the wedding invitation called for a 6:30 start. My Israeli boyfriend insisted we didn't need to get there til 8pm which I thought was rude, and we argued practically the whole way about whether we would be early or late. Well, the wedding started at 9. That's just a small taste of how Israelis perceive time :-)
The groom was the first of many grandchildren in a large family to get married. The proud grandfather, who had probably waited his whole life for this moment, was perched in a wheelchair beside the stage that the bride and groom ascended for the ceremony. As the bride and groom walked down the long column formed by the 600 guests leading up to the chupa, the bride stopped and kissed the grandfather on the cheek before she continued on her way. The grandfather just broke down - it was like his face broke open and he was shaking crying with joy and emotion. I couldn't even look at him, it made me feel like my heart was going to rip open and I would cry and cry. Even the caretaker standing by his side couldn't hold back the tears.
And being at the wedding, I felt again why I love so much to be in Israel - the ruach. (spirit/energy). Everyone was just so joyful, so full of energy, so celebratory. The dancing didn't stop from beginning to end. The meals were served and cleared and the dance floor never once emptied. The best thing about Israelis - definitely their ruach.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Gilad, Tarantino, and the value of our values...
I seem to be hearing the same question over and over the past couple of days - was it worth exchanging 20 Palestinian prisoners for a videotape of Gilad Shalit. Does it set the wrong precedent? 20 prisoners in exchange for a live human being is one thing, but a videotape? The reason it's so hard for me to answer this question personally is, I don't know how to measure a life. I don't know how much the life of Gilad Shalit, or myself, or any Jew for that matter is worth. All I know is, I saw a smile on Noam Shalit's face on the television for the first time in years. I saw Gilad on my computer screen, breathing, moving, alive. Is it worth it, knowing 20 terrorists who have plotted to kill us are now free on the streets, not far from where I sit at this moment? How do we measure worth?
And how do we measure justice? I just saw the Quentin Tarantino movie "Inglorious bastards", which is essentially the ultimate Jewish wish fulfillment. After 60+ years of lamenting our tragic history, Tarantino gave us a taste of vengeance, of fantasized satisfaction. And it felt good, it felt incredibly good in fact, to watch hundreds of Nazis burning and bleeding and suffering to death in an imagined history. But the question for me remains - could this fictionalized veangeful behavior be worth it?
Everything our enemies do is so disgusting, so degradable, they are less than human. They have no moral code. They are worse than animals. So how do we compare ourselves to them? How do we compare 20 criminal Palestinians to the cherished sign of life from our beloved Galid Shalit? There is no comparison, because we can never compare ourselves to our enemies. Which is why it was difficult for me, watching the Tarantino movie. On the one hand, it felt exactly right. It felt good on a physical, animal level. Eye for an eye. but in terms of pure animalistic torture and bloodshed on the level of Tarantino, could we Jews really reduce ourselves to that kind of behavior? Killing is one thing. But killing like animals is another.
It is an immensely gratifying feeling, after all these years, to see Gilad alive on my computer screen. And it is beyond gratifying to see the major Nazi players burned and shot and scalped on the cinematic screen. But I don't feel completely confident about this exchange of values - I don't like the measures of comparison. I don't want to think our enemies influence the way we value things, the way we value a human life, or our own dignity and humanity. Yes, after the videotape exchange Hamas announced they will now start kidnapping as many Israeli soldiers as they can. They may say that. But to me, that doesn't make freeing Gilad any less urgent. I value Gilad's life as much as I value my own. I think my life is endlessly significant, and Gilad's the same. The terrorists' lives don't even compare. I think what Israel did for Gilad shows how deep our values rest. So as for Tarantino and his Nazis - it's easy to feel the surface-level satisfaction of an eye for an eye. But to scalp like animals is a level that I think contradicts how much we value our own values.
And how do we measure justice? I just saw the Quentin Tarantino movie "Inglorious bastards", which is essentially the ultimate Jewish wish fulfillment. After 60+ years of lamenting our tragic history, Tarantino gave us a taste of vengeance, of fantasized satisfaction. And it felt good, it felt incredibly good in fact, to watch hundreds of Nazis burning and bleeding and suffering to death in an imagined history. But the question for me remains - could this fictionalized veangeful behavior be worth it?
Everything our enemies do is so disgusting, so degradable, they are less than human. They have no moral code. They are worse than animals. So how do we compare ourselves to them? How do we compare 20 criminal Palestinians to the cherished sign of life from our beloved Galid Shalit? There is no comparison, because we can never compare ourselves to our enemies. Which is why it was difficult for me, watching the Tarantino movie. On the one hand, it felt exactly right. It felt good on a physical, animal level. Eye for an eye. but in terms of pure animalistic torture and bloodshed on the level of Tarantino, could we Jews really reduce ourselves to that kind of behavior? Killing is one thing. But killing like animals is another.
It is an immensely gratifying feeling, after all these years, to see Gilad alive on my computer screen. And it is beyond gratifying to see the major Nazi players burned and shot and scalped on the cinematic screen. But I don't feel completely confident about this exchange of values - I don't like the measures of comparison. I don't want to think our enemies influence the way we value things, the way we value a human life, or our own dignity and humanity. Yes, after the videotape exchange Hamas announced they will now start kidnapping as many Israeli soldiers as they can. They may say that. But to me, that doesn't make freeing Gilad any less urgent. I value Gilad's life as much as I value my own. I think my life is endlessly significant, and Gilad's the same. The terrorists' lives don't even compare. I think what Israel did for Gilad shows how deep our values rest. So as for Tarantino and his Nazis - it's easy to feel the surface-level satisfaction of an eye for an eye. But to scalp like animals is a level that I think contradicts how much we value our own values.
Monday, September 28, 2009
A touch of holiness
Yom Kippur in Israel is like imagining what the world could be like if everything stopped. If all systems shut down. Like being on a Hollywood set, except it’s real. It’s like grappling the realness of the world we live in. Not sliding by day after day in hurried routine, like everywhere in the world, all the time. It’s a sudden stop. A sudden silence. Everyone together recognizing suddenly that this is real, that we are all alive, that this is amazing. And Yom Kippur is not a day of suffering, even though the feeling of hunger is possibly the worst feeling in the world. It’s a day to celebrate that we are alive, that we have God, that we have limitless potential to create and be anything that we want. Sometimes we need to get out of our heads to feel that different perspective – and focusing in on our bodies is one way to help us do that.
(For those who don't know, on Yom Kippur in Israel everything is shut down - it is the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. it is forbidden to drive and not a single car passes on the road except police or ambulances. Every single thing is closed except maybe one hospital per city. There is no television, no radio, nothing happening for the 25 hour holy period of Yom Kippur.)
I went to an interesting shiyur (lesson) today at “Bait Hayihudi”, an Aish house, in Tel Aviv. We were discussing the six mitvot surrounding God – to recognize his existence, not to put any powers before God, to unify God, to love God, fear God, and not indulge in our base desires. Someone raised an interesting point about the second mitzvah – how do we feel proud of our own accomplishments, if we’re never supposed to put any power before God, and all credit goes to God? And the response is interesting – any amazing accomplishments we humans accomplish are what we are supposed to be doing. We were put on this earth to fulfill our own potential, which entails doing amazing things. God has given us that power. But when we do accomplish something extraordinary, the mitzvah tells us to “take pleasure” in the accomplishment, rather than feel proud. All of our gratitude should be towards God, for giving us the opportunity to fulfill ourselves, to reach higher points, etc. I like that way of thinking. It’s dangerous to get caught up in too much self-pride. It inhibits our ability to grow. I’ve noticed this in the smallest ways with myself – for example, with my Hebrew studies. Sometimes I’m doing really well, such as in class when I understand everything and know all the answers and speak correctly. But then it’s easy to fall into the “oh, this Hebrew isn’t so hard, I’m so good at it, I don’t need to try so hard” etc etc, and if I let myself think that way, just because I had one good class as a payoff for my hard work, then for SURE in the next class I’m doing less well. Pride is a downfall. The same can happen in yoga class. If I have a really good class and I’m able to hold certain postures better or longer than others, I start to think I’m so good, and it’s that much harder for me when I come across a posture that’s difficult for me. The best way for me to continue to improve and grow is to “take pleasure” in my accomplishments, but not be proud. And that’s exactly what God has commanded of us, because God knows that that’s how we grow. And we owe it to God to grow. When after we die we go to heaven (or whatever happens after we die) and God asks us what did we accomplish in our lifetime, do we think he will be impressed that we started a business or built a highway or developed chain stores? In my opinion, no. Not that those are bad things, but God wants to hear us say at the end of the day that we fulfilled our potential. That we took risks and followed our hearts. That we focused our lives on love. That we were grateful and not proud. That we appreciated life. And that’s another reason Yom Kippur is so special – when we abstain (for a 25 hour period) from all physical pleasures – food, water, showers, sex, comfortable shoes, etc – it forces us to appreciate all of these things. God doesn’t want us to suffer. God simply wants us to appreciate every minute that we are alive.
And it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing to walk the streets of Israel on this holy day. People everywhere, and utter silence. Not a bleep to be heard. This is what peace feels like.
(For those who don't know, on Yom Kippur in Israel everything is shut down - it is the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. it is forbidden to drive and not a single car passes on the road except police or ambulances. Every single thing is closed except maybe one hospital per city. There is no television, no radio, nothing happening for the 25 hour holy period of Yom Kippur.)
I went to an interesting shiyur (lesson) today at “Bait Hayihudi”, an Aish house, in Tel Aviv. We were discussing the six mitvot surrounding God – to recognize his existence, not to put any powers before God, to unify God, to love God, fear God, and not indulge in our base desires. Someone raised an interesting point about the second mitzvah – how do we feel proud of our own accomplishments, if we’re never supposed to put any power before God, and all credit goes to God? And the response is interesting – any amazing accomplishments we humans accomplish are what we are supposed to be doing. We were put on this earth to fulfill our own potential, which entails doing amazing things. God has given us that power. But when we do accomplish something extraordinary, the mitzvah tells us to “take pleasure” in the accomplishment, rather than feel proud. All of our gratitude should be towards God, for giving us the opportunity to fulfill ourselves, to reach higher points, etc. I like that way of thinking. It’s dangerous to get caught up in too much self-pride. It inhibits our ability to grow. I’ve noticed this in the smallest ways with myself – for example, with my Hebrew studies. Sometimes I’m doing really well, such as in class when I understand everything and know all the answers and speak correctly. But then it’s easy to fall into the “oh, this Hebrew isn’t so hard, I’m so good at it, I don’t need to try so hard” etc etc, and if I let myself think that way, just because I had one good class as a payoff for my hard work, then for SURE in the next class I’m doing less well. Pride is a downfall. The same can happen in yoga class. If I have a really good class and I’m able to hold certain postures better or longer than others, I start to think I’m so good, and it’s that much harder for me when I come across a posture that’s difficult for me. The best way for me to continue to improve and grow is to “take pleasure” in my accomplishments, but not be proud. And that’s exactly what God has commanded of us, because God knows that that’s how we grow. And we owe it to God to grow. When after we die we go to heaven (or whatever happens after we die) and God asks us what did we accomplish in our lifetime, do we think he will be impressed that we started a business or built a highway or developed chain stores? In my opinion, no. Not that those are bad things, but God wants to hear us say at the end of the day that we fulfilled our potential. That we took risks and followed our hearts. That we focused our lives on love. That we were grateful and not proud. That we appreciated life. And that’s another reason Yom Kippur is so special – when we abstain (for a 25 hour period) from all physical pleasures – food, water, showers, sex, comfortable shoes, etc – it forces us to appreciate all of these things. God doesn’t want us to suffer. God simply wants us to appreciate every minute that we are alive.
And it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing to walk the streets of Israel on this holy day. People everywhere, and utter silence. Not a bleep to be heard. This is what peace feels like.
Monday, September 21, 2009
A change of season
So according to Israelis, autumn has officially descended upon us. The only difference I can detect is my morning shower no longer has immediate hot water (the water here gets heated by the sun, so when the weather cools, it's not as naturally hot. But the evening showers are as hot as ever!) I will grant however there is a detectable cool breeze in the evenings. And we're not all drenched in sweat in the outdoor clubs at night. So I guess that qualifies as fall, even though my definition of fall doesn't typically include 82-degree temperatures like we had today!
In more exciting news, I bought my first book in Hebrew. It's one of a series called "gesher l'ivrit" which means "bridge to hebrew", so they are like dummied-down versions of real hebrew books, with larger font, vowels, and translations of the hard words at the bottom of each page (translated into English and Russian). But nonetheless it's a BOOK, and i'm so excited every day that I sit down and read it. It's a really good feeling. Some friends in the ulpan and I are starting a casual book club where we're each reading a different 'gesher' book and then going to pass them around. We're all really excited that we've reached this level.
I've learned some interesting things about the way the brain works when learning a new language. For example, I understand almost twice as much when my eyes are closed than when they are open. That may sound weird, but I guess it makes sense when you think about how with my eyes closed I'm not distracted by visuals and more focused in on the actual sounds of the words. Also when I watch TV with subtitles, Hebrew subtitles, I understand twice as much than when I watch TV without them. It's also amazing how as soon as I've learned a new word, I start hearing that word all the time, even though it felt like I never heard that word before. Every day I notice new things about Hebrew or English or about the way the brain works.
Back to the book now!
In more exciting news, I bought my first book in Hebrew. It's one of a series called "gesher l'ivrit" which means "bridge to hebrew", so they are like dummied-down versions of real hebrew books, with larger font, vowels, and translations of the hard words at the bottom of each page (translated into English and Russian). But nonetheless it's a BOOK, and i'm so excited every day that I sit down and read it. It's a really good feeling. Some friends in the ulpan and I are starting a casual book club where we're each reading a different 'gesher' book and then going to pass them around. We're all really excited that we've reached this level.
I've learned some interesting things about the way the brain works when learning a new language. For example, I understand almost twice as much when my eyes are closed than when they are open. That may sound weird, but I guess it makes sense when you think about how with my eyes closed I'm not distracted by visuals and more focused in on the actual sounds of the words. Also when I watch TV with subtitles, Hebrew subtitles, I understand twice as much than when I watch TV without them. It's also amazing how as soon as I've learned a new word, I start hearing that word all the time, even though it felt like I never heard that word before. Every day I notice new things about Hebrew or English or about the way the brain works.
Back to the book now!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Indulging in Hebrew and Madonna...
My boyfriend got us tickets to the Madonna concert here in Tel Aviv last week - which also happened to be the last night of her "sticky and sweet" tour, so it was an extra special night. I had never seen Madonna live before and I'm not sure what I was expecting - some "like a virgin" and impressive dance routines, but I wasn't expecting much more than that. How wrong I was! I left Madonna's concert feeling so inspired. She just came across so human and yet so incredibly accomplished – making us in the audience feel like we can be anything we want to be. It’s always a shock to me when I see celebrities in person – like they suddenly seem so human and regular. Anyway she put on an amazing show and I’m posting here one of the videos I took at the concert for your viewing pleasure. :-)
My days continue to be Hebrew-packed and I’m just trying to swallow up as much Hebrew as I can, as quickly as I can! The ulpan is advancing and extremely tiring, but I have a very good teacher and I’m grateful for that. From five hours of class I move on to my babysitting job for the next five hours of my day, with an adorable Israeli girl who understands English but refuses to utter a word. It can be funny and it can be frustrating (often depending on the mood she’s in). A lot of times my Hebrew bumbling just makes her laugh and we even try sometimes to read books with difficult Hebrew just because it’s so hilarious for her to hear me stumbling through the words. But sometimes she just wants me to understand her and shuts down in frustration when I don’t. And it’s the most frustrating feeling in the world for me, because with everyone else I interact with here in Israel, we can always turn to English when in need. The girl understands English but for whatever reason refuses to speak it. For example, she’ll ask me if I know what a certain Hebrew word means, and I just keep guessing English words until I get it right. And she can correctly identify once I’ve said the right word. But she can’t seem to come up with the English word on her own. Now that she’s started school she has homework every afternoon, and one of my babysitting duties is to sit with her and help her with the homework and check her answers. This is seriously the hardest Hebrew experience I’ve encountered yet!! First of all, I’m helping her with her MATH homework, and for anyone who knows me well, you know me and math! For one thing. For another, math in Hebrew. I have yet to learn the Hebrew words for “integer” or “multiplication” etc so yeah, the whole experience is a little amusing to say the least. I literally sit there with her Hebrew math book and a dictionary and visualize the situation as if from up above looking down on myself, and simply laugh.
My days continue to be Hebrew-packed and I’m just trying to swallow up as much Hebrew as I can, as quickly as I can! The ulpan is advancing and extremely tiring, but I have a very good teacher and I’m grateful for that. From five hours of class I move on to my babysitting job for the next five hours of my day, with an adorable Israeli girl who understands English but refuses to utter a word. It can be funny and it can be frustrating (often depending on the mood she’s in). A lot of times my Hebrew bumbling just makes her laugh and we even try sometimes to read books with difficult Hebrew just because it’s so hilarious for her to hear me stumbling through the words. But sometimes she just wants me to understand her and shuts down in frustration when I don’t. And it’s the most frustrating feeling in the world for me, because with everyone else I interact with here in Israel, we can always turn to English when in need. The girl understands English but for whatever reason refuses to speak it. For example, she’ll ask me if I know what a certain Hebrew word means, and I just keep guessing English words until I get it right. And she can correctly identify once I’ve said the right word. But she can’t seem to come up with the English word on her own. Now that she’s started school she has homework every afternoon, and one of my babysitting duties is to sit with her and help her with the homework and check her answers. This is seriously the hardest Hebrew experience I’ve encountered yet!! First of all, I’m helping her with her MATH homework, and for anyone who knows me well, you know me and math! For one thing. For another, math in Hebrew. I have yet to learn the Hebrew words for “integer” or “multiplication” etc so yeah, the whole experience is a little amusing to say the least. I literally sit there with her Hebrew math book and a dictionary and visualize the situation as if from up above looking down on myself, and simply laugh.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
some notes on Israeli society...
I learned something new about Israelis during a visit to the post office yesterday. Because Israelis are notoriously incapable of waiting patiently - for anything - Israeli bureaucrats have implemented different systems to make waiting slightly more tolerable. One such example is a new machine at the post office, whereby upon entering one selects from a variety of options (such as sending mail, picking up a package, etc) and then you are given a number according to the service you need. Therefore there are several lines, for the different categories. I went in, selected the service I needed, and received my ticket with the number on it. But after about 10 minutes of waiting, I realized that some people who had come in after me were being served before me. Then I saw a woman go up to the machine and select a ticket for every available service. She held the three tickets in her hand, and whichever number came first, was the one she went with. I couldn't believe it! But I'm a quick learner, so I hurried back to the machine and withdrew more tickets, and as a result was also serviced faster with one of the other tickets. oh, Israel.
I had lunch with an Israeli friend the other day who's part American and part Canadian, so he has an interesting view on the differences between Israelis and North Americans. One little anecdote, he pointed out, is the concept of "free refills" in America. In America, it's not a big deal. You go to papa gino's or wherever and get your pizza and your cup and you drink however much coke or pepsi you want. No one really gets too crazy about it, maybe children get overexcited sometimes, but it's a relatively normal concept. In Israel though, he pointed out, offering free refills would never work. People would practically bring jerry cans to the soda fountain to fill up on a lifetime supply of soda! That's the way Israelis are - milking everything for as much as they can get :-)
and one side comment about my Hebrew studies - I am dyslexic in Hebrew. I have come from being an honors English Literature student to being dyslexic in Hebrew. I literally think in my head of something I want to write, and when I look down at the paper its something else entirely. I invert letters, I write things backward, I mix up letters - you name it. It's quite fascinating to watch my hebrew dyslexia in action :-)
on the plus side of my Hebrew studies, I'm finally beginning to understand the random comments men call out to me when I walk down the street here. I'm thinking maybe it was better when I didn't understand... :-)
I had lunch with an Israeli friend the other day who's part American and part Canadian, so he has an interesting view on the differences between Israelis and North Americans. One little anecdote, he pointed out, is the concept of "free refills" in America. In America, it's not a big deal. You go to papa gino's or wherever and get your pizza and your cup and you drink however much coke or pepsi you want. No one really gets too crazy about it, maybe children get overexcited sometimes, but it's a relatively normal concept. In Israel though, he pointed out, offering free refills would never work. People would practically bring jerry cans to the soda fountain to fill up on a lifetime supply of soda! That's the way Israelis are - milking everything for as much as they can get :-)
and one side comment about my Hebrew studies - I am dyslexic in Hebrew. I have come from being an honors English Literature student to being dyslexic in Hebrew. I literally think in my head of something I want to write, and when I look down at the paper its something else entirely. I invert letters, I write things backward, I mix up letters - you name it. It's quite fascinating to watch my hebrew dyslexia in action :-)
on the plus side of my Hebrew studies, I'm finally beginning to understand the random comments men call out to me when I walk down the street here. I'm thinking maybe it was better when I didn't understand... :-)
Monday, August 17, 2009
New job, new boyfriend - new beginnings!
As every new immigrant to Israel sadly learns, the government subsidy only takes one so far... so like all the other olim chadashim in my ulpan class, I too now have a part-time job. I'm babysitting for an Israeli 9-yr-old girl in Tel Aviv every day from 1:30-6pm. Its the perfect schedule and I got really lucky with the pay (according to Israeli standards.) The girl is absolutely adorable (I'll refrain from mentioning her name for the sake of her privacy). but she is unlike any other child I've ever babysat! She brings her dishes to the dishwasher without being told and automatically helps clean up every day after we have lunch. She gets a 10-shekel a week allowance from her mom and saves it up diligently - whenever we go shopping she is constantly asking how much things cost, and calculates which things she wants the most and how long it will take her to buy them. last week, she spent 85 shekels - thats 8 1/2 weeks of saving - on a pair of earrings for her MOM. I was like, did she have a birthday or something? No, there was no special occasion, she just wanted her mom to have these pretty earrings. I was blown away!!! so ya, shes a great kid. she understands english but so far has refused to utter a word in english, so its actually very good for my hebrew. even though im tired after ulpan, i have no choice but to continue my day in Hebrew with her. we read books in hebrew and watch tv in hebrew and she is constantly teaching me new words. i actually find it very helpful to speak with a child because i'm not embarrassed to ask her every stupid little random question I've ever had about hebrew! :-) this girl is actually the only person I communicate with in my life who if I dont understand something, she literally cant translate it into English for me. everyone else eventually will translate so that I'll understand, but she simply cant. occasionally we've pulled out a dictionary (she was trying to describe a ferret and I had absolutely NO idea what she was talking about!) but most of the time, we get by in our own way. so between the ulpan, the new job, and the new Israeli boyfriend (yes thats right, very exciting!) my Hebrew is steadily improving day by day. it feels like i'm filling my brain with all these assorted puzzle pieces, that one day will hopefully all fit together. its almost like there are words buried in the sand and I'm digging through with my hands, brushing and wiping the sand off of them, so that suddenly things will become clear to me. but theres still a lot of effort that must be made... and things become clear slowly and yet suddenly at the same time.
God is being very good to me, and Israel too. I simply can't complain. Just trying to feel grateful for all the wonderful things in my life here, and continue on the journey. "L'at l'at" as they always say here. :-)
God is being very good to me, and Israel too. I simply can't complain. Just trying to feel grateful for all the wonderful things in my life here, and continue on the journey. "L'at l'at" as they always say here. :-)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
A return to routine...
After what felt like a nonstop whirl of fun and quality time with my mother, stepfather, and sister the past 2+ weeks, life for me has resumed to "normal" - or at least quiet. My ulpan studies take up most of my time, especially now that I'm with a new teacher in a higher level class. My new teacher is the polar opposite of my previous one - she hardly smiles, has extremely high expectations, and assigns approximately 2 hours of homework a day. She says we'll thank her at the end of the course for the level of Hebrew she'll bring us to... but I'm telling you, my peers and I are crying every step of the way! :-)
It was wonderful to have my family here with me. They brought me two overstuffed suitcases with more clothes and personal belongings... so that about wraps up what I'll have from back home here with me. It was hard to say good-bye when they left, because it just feels like such a shock to realize how far away we are from each other. It's not easy. But life gets back to normal, you get back into the swing of things, we chat on skype, and look forward to the next visit. What I keep reminding myself when I have sad moments like that is how much I love living here, how complete and peaceful I feel, and I know that missing my loved ones is the one sacrifice I had to make in order to be this happy.
The heat, though, is starting to be too much... I who swore I would never complain about the heat am starting to reach my tolerance limit for the temperatures here. It's just so hot! You couldn't walk at a quick pace outside for more than 5 minutes if you tried. Everyone is sweating, all the time. It's very sticky. But I know how crappy of a summer Boston is getting with all that rain, so I'll refrain from further kvetching! :-)
Last night though was a shocking turn of events for the city of Tel Aviv.. a gunman attacked a gay youth club and killed 2 people and wounded 15. At first everyone's immediate assumption was that it was a terrorist attack, but we know now that it was a hate crime. Today I went by the site of the attack and saw hundreds of Israelis gathered in a support rally, bringing flowers and signs and showing their support for the gay community. It was a very sad and very touching sight. But it's nice that when something this tragic happens, people come together, and mourn together, so that it doesn't feel like a distant event, but something relevant to all of us. We can take a tragedy and use it as an opportunity to express love.
And I love Tel Aviv.
It was wonderful to have my family here with me. They brought me two overstuffed suitcases with more clothes and personal belongings... so that about wraps up what I'll have from back home here with me. It was hard to say good-bye when they left, because it just feels like such a shock to realize how far away we are from each other. It's not easy. But life gets back to normal, you get back into the swing of things, we chat on skype, and look forward to the next visit. What I keep reminding myself when I have sad moments like that is how much I love living here, how complete and peaceful I feel, and I know that missing my loved ones is the one sacrifice I had to make in order to be this happy.
The heat, though, is starting to be too much... I who swore I would never complain about the heat am starting to reach my tolerance limit for the temperatures here. It's just so hot! You couldn't walk at a quick pace outside for more than 5 minutes if you tried. Everyone is sweating, all the time. It's very sticky. But I know how crappy of a summer Boston is getting with all that rain, so I'll refrain from further kvetching! :-)
Last night though was a shocking turn of events for the city of Tel Aviv.. a gunman attacked a gay youth club and killed 2 people and wounded 15. At first everyone's immediate assumption was that it was a terrorist attack, but we know now that it was a hate crime. Today I went by the site of the attack and saw hundreds of Israelis gathered in a support rally, bringing flowers and signs and showing their support for the gay community. It was a very sad and very touching sight. But it's nice that when something this tragic happens, people come together, and mourn together, so that it doesn't feel like a distant event, but something relevant to all of us. We can take a tragedy and use it as an opportunity to express love.
And I love Tel Aviv.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
busy busy busy!
The life of an American in Tel Aviv in the summertime - or at least my life - can basically be summed up in one word: visitors! I have had nonstop visitors for a straight 3 weeks now. It's the season that Americans come to Israel so I guess it makes sense. Everywhere you go in Israel now you hear English on the street... I think the Israelis are starting to feel outnumbered :-) Upon my brother's departure arrived Ezra and Noah, 2 old friends from Camp Yavneh, followed by Josh, a friend from high school who had just finished a taglit-birthright trip, followed by Erik, a good friend from Boston, followed by my sister Rachel's arrival! Not to mention all the other random visitors I've seen who haven't been staying with me. This also coincides with the start of a higher level ulpan class - an adventure unto itself. But it's all good things.
I was really inspired by Josh's birthright group. Most of them decided to extend their return ticket after the end of the trip so they could explore Tel Aviv for a few days. I took them all out to the most popular club in Tel Aviv and they had the time of their lives. It was so exciting and inspiring to see them and talk to them - you could tell they were so emotional and intimately bonded after their 10 intense days traveling Israel together. For some of them it was their first time in Israel, and they had already made up their minds that they would move here. For others they told me about how they now really care about their Jewish identity and heritage and want to explore the religion more and get more connected to the community. Birthright is really an amazing thing.
While Josh was here we also visited "water war" in Kikar Rabin (as you can see in the video I posted). That was a sight to be seen! Apparently they do this one day every year in the peak of the summer, despite the widespread complaints that it's a waste of water in a country suffering a serious water shortage. Nonetheless, great fun was had and everyone got to cool off for at least a few minutes! It was quite hilarious actually watching how intense people got with the water - some were even filling up garbage bins and dunking it entirely over someone's head. The channel 10 newscasters were there and interviewed my roommate, and in the middle of the interview a sneaky man came up and drenched them. It was shocking and hilarious.
It's getting extremely hot here and the beach is a necessity. Even though the water is as warm as a bathtub, it's simply too hot to be anywhere else. Yesterday the waves were enormous in Tel Aviv, bigger than I've ever seen them. When the waves are like that the water is mostly filled with boys. Rachel likes them but it's too much for me.
Rachel also took me to an Israeli wedding last night, a good friend of hers from New York who married an Israeli (and the couple happened to be a former Birthright participant and a Birthright security guard! a real love story). The wedding was so beautiful it took my breath away. I didn't know the couple very well but everyone was moved to tears, the ceremony was so touching. The wedding took place in a kibbutz north of Tel Aviv at night with all the trees and flowers and gardens lit up in beautiful lights and flame torches along a high stone wall with hauntingly powerful singing from the speakers surrounding the chupa. We danced until 3 in the morning. It was so different from an American wedding - not to mention the fact that half the guests were in jeans and flip-flops - but I loved it.
And tomorrow, my mom and stepdad arrive! More fun to come.
I was really inspired by Josh's birthright group. Most of them decided to extend their return ticket after the end of the trip so they could explore Tel Aviv for a few days. I took them all out to the most popular club in Tel Aviv and they had the time of their lives. It was so exciting and inspiring to see them and talk to them - you could tell they were so emotional and intimately bonded after their 10 intense days traveling Israel together. For some of them it was their first time in Israel, and they had already made up their minds that they would move here. For others they told me about how they now really care about their Jewish identity and heritage and want to explore the religion more and get more connected to the community. Birthright is really an amazing thing.
While Josh was here we also visited "water war" in Kikar Rabin (as you can see in the video I posted). That was a sight to be seen! Apparently they do this one day every year in the peak of the summer, despite the widespread complaints that it's a waste of water in a country suffering a serious water shortage. Nonetheless, great fun was had and everyone got to cool off for at least a few minutes! It was quite hilarious actually watching how intense people got with the water - some were even filling up garbage bins and dunking it entirely over someone's head. The channel 10 newscasters were there and interviewed my roommate, and in the middle of the interview a sneaky man came up and drenched them. It was shocking and hilarious.
It's getting extremely hot here and the beach is a necessity. Even though the water is as warm as a bathtub, it's simply too hot to be anywhere else. Yesterday the waves were enormous in Tel Aviv, bigger than I've ever seen them. When the waves are like that the water is mostly filled with boys. Rachel likes them but it's too much for me.
Rachel also took me to an Israeli wedding last night, a good friend of hers from New York who married an Israeli (and the couple happened to be a former Birthright participant and a Birthright security guard! a real love story). The wedding was so beautiful it took my breath away. I didn't know the couple very well but everyone was moved to tears, the ceremony was so touching. The wedding took place in a kibbutz north of Tel Aviv at night with all the trees and flowers and gardens lit up in beautiful lights and flame torches along a high stone wall with hauntingly powerful singing from the speakers surrounding the chupa. We danced until 3 in the morning. It was so different from an American wedding - not to mention the fact that half the guests were in jeans and flip-flops - but I loved it.
And tomorrow, my mom and stepdad arrive! More fun to come.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
A word about ulpan
There is no better word to describe ulpan than balagan. It’s like being in kindergarten, a soap opera, and a comedy routine all at the same time. I understand now how people survive the 5 hours a day, 5 days a week, 5 month Hebrew class – it’s because ulpan is a hilarious scene. My teacher doesn’t just teach us Hebrew, she puts on a show for us. Probably she might have been an actress in a different lifetime. She uses all tactics possible to keep us engaged in the Hebrew lesson, hour after endless hour. I don’t know if it’s just our teacher or if all of the teachers are like her (I certainly hope so because I’m moving into a higher level class next week, and I couldn’t bear to be with a teacher less entertaining than my current one!) Our teacher is addicted to chocolate and stuffs her face with it all day long. It’s probably how she gets all her energy. She sniffs empty chocolate wrappers and whiteboard markers and takes food from people’s desks without asking. For no reason at all she’ll open the window and stick her head out or momentarily leave the classroom and come back. She’s always playing tricks on people and making inappropriate jokes to get us to laugh. Humor and silliness are definitely her approach to getting us to learn Hebrew. If we want to understand why everyone is laughing, we have no other choice! It’s the best motivation. Also, it’s good because learning Hebrew can be so hard and frustrating and exhausting, that ultimately there is nothing else you can do but laugh. Or cry, which happens from time to time. Or fall asleep, which is a daily struggle for all of us. No one survives a day in ulpan without coffee. Sometimes a student will fall asleep in class and my teacher will throw a paper airplane at them or send them out to buy her a coffee. She’s one of the best teachers I’ve ever had; we all love and adore her.
Every individual in my class lends a certain stock character to the group dynamic. There are about 25 of us, from all over the world – France, Argentina, Uzbekistan, Canada, Belgium, Russia, Greece, etc – roughly between the ages of 20-40. It’s a conglomeration of personalities in a setting that would make anyone turn ADD. My friend Aliza pointed out that Israel should make a TV series about ulpan and she’s right, it would be the funniest show on television. But back to the group dynamic – so we have the Frenchies (it seems that half the Parisian Jewish population up and transplanted to Ulpan Gordon, but anyway) who speak Hebrew with such thick accents that if I’m not paying close attention it sounds like they’re speaking French. (due to all the translating going on I’m actually learning quite a bit of French simultaneously). There is a Belgian pothead in my class who hides joints in the bushes outsides ulpan and gets high during the breaks (I only discovered this when I found him searching anxiously through the bushes one day and I asked him why; his joint had gone missing into nature); there is the apathetic Canadian who comes to class exactly one hour late every day and endures word-for-word the same scolding every morning; there is a Russian girl who is always randomly laughing and most of the time no one really knows why; and of course the American party boy who comes into class 20 minutes before the end of the day wearing shorts, a tank top, sunglasses and sun hat, holding a fresh fruit juice, strolling in like a movie star. The teacher shouts that she would kill him except that he’s going into the army to defend and protect her so she won’t say anything. Oh, the army boys get away with everything…
I'm definitely the quiet one in the class. When I do speak, my teacher yells at me to speak louder. We're basically encouraged to yell. There's no such thing as "classroom voices" in Israel! Sometimes my teacher raises such a commotion in the classroom that even she gets overwhelmed and starts screaming for quiet, when in fact she's the only one really making all the noise! It's quite amusing.
There is really no way to illustrate the extent of ridiculousness in my class. Literally, we laugh all day long. I never know what trick my teacher is going to pull out of her sleeve next. She is something special.
(Oh and by the way, we’re actually learning Hebrew too) :-)
Every individual in my class lends a certain stock character to the group dynamic. There are about 25 of us, from all over the world – France, Argentina, Uzbekistan, Canada, Belgium, Russia, Greece, etc – roughly between the ages of 20-40. It’s a conglomeration of personalities in a setting that would make anyone turn ADD. My friend Aliza pointed out that Israel should make a TV series about ulpan and she’s right, it would be the funniest show on television. But back to the group dynamic – so we have the Frenchies (it seems that half the Parisian Jewish population up and transplanted to Ulpan Gordon, but anyway) who speak Hebrew with such thick accents that if I’m not paying close attention it sounds like they’re speaking French. (due to all the translating going on I’m actually learning quite a bit of French simultaneously). There is a Belgian pothead in my class who hides joints in the bushes outsides ulpan and gets high during the breaks (I only discovered this when I found him searching anxiously through the bushes one day and I asked him why; his joint had gone missing into nature); there is the apathetic Canadian who comes to class exactly one hour late every day and endures word-for-word the same scolding every morning; there is a Russian girl who is always randomly laughing and most of the time no one really knows why; and of course the American party boy who comes into class 20 minutes before the end of the day wearing shorts, a tank top, sunglasses and sun hat, holding a fresh fruit juice, strolling in like a movie star. The teacher shouts that she would kill him except that he’s going into the army to defend and protect her so she won’t say anything. Oh, the army boys get away with everything…
I'm definitely the quiet one in the class. When I do speak, my teacher yells at me to speak louder. We're basically encouraged to yell. There's no such thing as "classroom voices" in Israel! Sometimes my teacher raises such a commotion in the classroom that even she gets overwhelmed and starts screaming for quiet, when in fact she's the only one really making all the noise! It's quite amusing.
There is really no way to illustrate the extent of ridiculousness in my class. Literally, we laugh all day long. I never know what trick my teacher is going to pull out of her sleeve next. She is something special.
(Oh and by the way, we’re actually learning Hebrew too) :-)
Aaron's visit
My dear younger brother Aaron came for a whirlwind 48 hour visit which was so fun it felt like he was here for 4 days. Him and his friend Jason concluded their vacation in Greece with an extended "layover" in Tel Aviv to visit me and have some fun in the holy land. It made me so happy to see him, but also sad because it really hit me how hard it is to be so far away from my family. I love having my brother around. But I try to focus on the positive; I'm fortunate to have such a wonderful brother and that he supports my aliyah and comes to visit me and we have such a great time together. Not everyone who makes aliyah is so lucky.
Of all the things Aaron and Jason loved about Tel Aviv, I have no doubt that the Tel Aviv women had the strongest impression on them of all. They couldn't get over the fact that all the women here are Jewish, and how beautiful they are! After struggling to find a Jewish girl their whole lives in the diaspora, going out in Tel Aviv is like a child's visit to the willy wonka chocolate factory. They were simply in heaven! I am the same way; I absolutely love the fact that every guy I talk to here I could potentially date (in terms of the religion issue.) It's such an exciting, freeing feeling. The world is your oyster! Well, Tel Aviv certainly was for Aaron and Jason for 2 long, wonderful days. :-)
It was a little heartbreaking to see them go but I felt happy at the same time, because we had such a great time together. I wouldn't have done a single thing differently. Love you Aaron!
Of all the things Aaron and Jason loved about Tel Aviv, I have no doubt that the Tel Aviv women had the strongest impression on them of all. They couldn't get over the fact that all the women here are Jewish, and how beautiful they are! After struggling to find a Jewish girl their whole lives in the diaspora, going out in Tel Aviv is like a child's visit to the willy wonka chocolate factory. They were simply in heaven! I am the same way; I absolutely love the fact that every guy I talk to here I could potentially date (in terms of the religion issue.) It's such an exciting, freeing feeling. The world is your oyster! Well, Tel Aviv certainly was for Aaron and Jason for 2 long, wonderful days. :-)
It was a little heartbreaking to see them go but I felt happy at the same time, because we had such a great time together. I wouldn't have done a single thing differently. Love you Aaron!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My first poem in Hebrew! so proud of myself :-)
שיר על עלייה
שלום אני עולה חדשה
אני בישראל פחות משנה
כל איש ברחוב שואל אותי למה
עלייתי לארץ איפה אין לי משפחה
האמת בגלל היא מקום מיוחדת
הלב שלי פה, פה אני מרגישה מושלמת
כן אני מתגעגעת אל אמריקה
אבל המזג אוויר אין השוואה
אני מאחלת שיום אחד יהיו
כל האנשים אהובים שלי גם פה
כי זאת האדמה לכל היהודים
אין מקום יותר טוב אנחנו יודעים
שלום אני עולה חדשה
אני בישראל פחות משנה
כל איש ברחוב שואל אותי למה
עלייתי לארץ איפה אין לי משפחה
האמת בגלל היא מקום מיוחדת
הלב שלי פה, פה אני מרגישה מושלמת
כן אני מתגעגעת אל אמריקה
אבל המזג אוויר אין השוואה
אני מאחלת שיום אחד יהיו
כל האנשים אהובים שלי גם פה
כי זאת האדמה לכל היהודים
אין מקום יותר טוב אנחנו יודעים
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
In my new home!
I write this first blog post from my new apartment and I couldn't be happier :-)
I'm living now with 2 girls, one American-Israeli and one Belgian-Israeli, in a gorgeous duplex in the center of Tel Aviv, 2 minutes from the beach. (pictures to come once it's all set up!) we have a view of the ocean from our balconies (one on each floor) and watched the sun set over the sea last night from the comfort of our home. Living here feels too good to be true.
In talking to my sister Rachel this week, she pointed something out to me that's really amazing and I hadn't quite formulated for myself yet - I am like an emissary of Israel to so many diaspora Jews. Between all the friends from different stages of my life, family friends, and random acquaintances, for many people I am the only person they know who lives in Israel. In just a month here I've gotten several messages from people wanting to know if they can visit me or if I can help them visit Israel. It's nice to know that I can be like a port of support for so many Jews who don't have a strong connection to Israel themselves. I have a feeling my apartment is going to be like an international hostel! But it's a wonderful thing.
My friend Zeev also made an interesting insight to me this week - when we look at the past 2,000 years of history and under what circumstances Jews moved to Israel, the vast majority of Jews came to Israel as a safe haven from persecution. The number of Jews who actually chose to leave a safer "better life" (such as America) to come struggle in Israel for no reason other than that it's the Jewish homeland, is an extremely small number. I'm like a "statistical anomaly" Zeev said. And it's true - after 2,000 years of praying to God to be able to return to Israel, it's like a metaphorical slap in God's face to not follow up on our prayers. I don't know how so many religious Jews in the diaspora justify it to themselves. But, we all can make Israel stronger in our own way.
When I was out buying paint 2 days ago for my apartment, there was a man standing beside the salesman staring at me while I was explaining what I needed in broken Hebrew. He was making me very uncomfortable. After the salesman walked away he asked me where I was from. I said Boston. He said, what are you doing in Israel? I said, I made aliyah! He responded, why? I said, "because I'm Jewish, this is my home!" and he responded, "no, not exactly." I was caught off guard - my stomach just went cold - and my friend pulled me aside and told me he was Arab. I would have responded to his last comment but the moment had passed. It made me sad though. Especially when I walked outside and I saw a band set up on the street playing music and people dancing, and a huge banner behind them read: "Rotzim Shalom". (We want peace). It seems like it's impossible to get that message across sometimes.
Anyway - off now to a Shabbat lunch and then the beach.
Shabbat Shalom!
I'm living now with 2 girls, one American-Israeli and one Belgian-Israeli, in a gorgeous duplex in the center of Tel Aviv, 2 minutes from the beach. (pictures to come once it's all set up!) we have a view of the ocean from our balconies (one on each floor) and watched the sun set over the sea last night from the comfort of our home. Living here feels too good to be true.
In talking to my sister Rachel this week, she pointed something out to me that's really amazing and I hadn't quite formulated for myself yet - I am like an emissary of Israel to so many diaspora Jews. Between all the friends from different stages of my life, family friends, and random acquaintances, for many people I am the only person they know who lives in Israel. In just a month here I've gotten several messages from people wanting to know if they can visit me or if I can help them visit Israel. It's nice to know that I can be like a port of support for so many Jews who don't have a strong connection to Israel themselves. I have a feeling my apartment is going to be like an international hostel! But it's a wonderful thing.
My friend Zeev also made an interesting insight to me this week - when we look at the past 2,000 years of history and under what circumstances Jews moved to Israel, the vast majority of Jews came to Israel as a safe haven from persecution. The number of Jews who actually chose to leave a safer "better life" (such as America) to come struggle in Israel for no reason other than that it's the Jewish homeland, is an extremely small number. I'm like a "statistical anomaly" Zeev said. And it's true - after 2,000 years of praying to God to be able to return to Israel, it's like a metaphorical slap in God's face to not follow up on our prayers. I don't know how so many religious Jews in the diaspora justify it to themselves. But, we all can make Israel stronger in our own way.
When I was out buying paint 2 days ago for my apartment, there was a man standing beside the salesman staring at me while I was explaining what I needed in broken Hebrew. He was making me very uncomfortable. After the salesman walked away he asked me where I was from. I said Boston. He said, what are you doing in Israel? I said, I made aliyah! He responded, why? I said, "because I'm Jewish, this is my home!" and he responded, "no, not exactly." I was caught off guard - my stomach just went cold - and my friend pulled me aside and told me he was Arab. I would have responded to his last comment but the moment had passed. It made me sad though. Especially when I walked outside and I saw a band set up on the street playing music and people dancing, and a huge banner behind them read: "Rotzim Shalom". (We want peace). It seems like it's impossible to get that message across sometimes.
Anyway - off now to a Shabbat lunch and then the beach.
Shabbat Shalom!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
While turning into a strawberry...
I love Israel so much.
But since this is my blog, I get to use it for all my selfish purposes - including occasional venting sessions :-)
I had to pee so bad today walking down the street in Tel Aviv. I went into a hotel and the doorman stopped me. I told him I had to use the bathroom, and he said no. I was so taken aback, like please? He shook his head no. A little stunned, I continued down the street and went into a restaurant. May I please use the bathroom? No, the woman said flat out. I'm like, are you serious? At this point I almost started to cry; why will no one let me use their bathroom?! As panic is slowly setting in I continue down the street and go into a bar. I walk in and beg the barman to use the bathroom. Now he was the one taken aback - I don't know if it was more from seeing a girl like me in his bar in the middle of the afternoon, or the fact that I was pleading for a bathroom. Anyway he nodded in permission and I finally relaxed! Also it annoys me so much how some people here walk down the street. You'll be two people walking towards each other on the sidewalk, with plenty of room, and they'll just charge straight ahead right at you, and don't turn to the side until right before they'd be about to walk into you. I'm like, people, go right!! There is such a widespread tendency to be aggressive here, in everything. Everything is an argument. People here actually enjoy arguing. It so does not suit my personality. But I'm learning how to argue when I have to to get what I need. For example, the bank. The bank here is amateurs. No one actually knows what they're doing - sometimes I'm surprised this country functions as well as it does. I went back to the bank yesterday to pick up my long-awaited atm card. I had ordered it when I set up a bank account 3 weeks ago. Everything here takes a week, so when I went back a week later, they told me they had not put in an order for my atm card, so they would do it that day, and to come back in a week. (because who with a bank account would actually want an atm card? Such an unusual request). So of course when I go back a week later, they tell me no one ordered an atm card for me. This has continued week by week until yesterday I had a fit and threatened them if I come back in a week and they still don't have an atm card for me - there will be trouble. But the thing is, there's nothing you can really do. Loving Israel requires laughing at Israel.
Now on to the latest delights of life here. I smile in the morning when I see the weather forecast: "abundant sunshine. 80 degrees." every day, hot and sunny. and its just getting hotter and hotter.. I love it. I had my first doctor's visit and the co-payment was 6 shekels. (approximately $1). wonderful. Also, I am dying over the strawberries here. I bought a kilo of strawberries for 5 shekels, went home and eagerly washed them, and just exclaimed to myself in delight as I stood alone in my kitchen eating them. They are the most delicious strawberries I've ever tasted -bursting with sweetness, lush and red and perfectly ripe. The smell emanates across the room. And the cherry tomatoes. I've never eaten cherry tomatoes the way I do here - they're better than candy. Perfect and fresh and sweet and crunchy - I could eat pounds of them. Speaking of pounds - burekas are going to be the death of me. I have allowed myself to indulge since I've been here, but I have to start seriously avoiding the burekas. An hour and a half of running might make up for one bureka. It's the worst.
Tonight in Tel Aviv is "Layla Lavan" - White Night - an annual tribute to "the white city" (tel aviv), and in honor of Tel Aviv's 100th birthday, celebrating with all-night parties and events throughout the city. Everything in the whole city is open all night. There will be music and performers and all kinds of festivities along Rothschild street, the street where I'm temporarily staying, so I've been told not to expect to sleep tonight before 6am or else to sleep elsewhere. It's going to be crazy!!!
Tomorrow morning I sign the lease on my new apartment, and I can't wait. June 1 is moving day.
On Sunday I take the Hebrew placement test to see which level Hebrew class I will be in. I'm ready to take it on!
But since this is my blog, I get to use it for all my selfish purposes - including occasional venting sessions :-)
I had to pee so bad today walking down the street in Tel Aviv. I went into a hotel and the doorman stopped me. I told him I had to use the bathroom, and he said no. I was so taken aback, like please? He shook his head no. A little stunned, I continued down the street and went into a restaurant. May I please use the bathroom? No, the woman said flat out. I'm like, are you serious? At this point I almost started to cry; why will no one let me use their bathroom?! As panic is slowly setting in I continue down the street and go into a bar. I walk in and beg the barman to use the bathroom. Now he was the one taken aback - I don't know if it was more from seeing a girl like me in his bar in the middle of the afternoon, or the fact that I was pleading for a bathroom. Anyway he nodded in permission and I finally relaxed! Also it annoys me so much how some people here walk down the street. You'll be two people walking towards each other on the sidewalk, with plenty of room, and they'll just charge straight ahead right at you, and don't turn to the side until right before they'd be about to walk into you. I'm like, people, go right!! There is such a widespread tendency to be aggressive here, in everything. Everything is an argument. People here actually enjoy arguing. It so does not suit my personality. But I'm learning how to argue when I have to to get what I need. For example, the bank. The bank here is amateurs. No one actually knows what they're doing - sometimes I'm surprised this country functions as well as it does. I went back to the bank yesterday to pick up my long-awaited atm card. I had ordered it when I set up a bank account 3 weeks ago. Everything here takes a week, so when I went back a week later, they told me they had not put in an order for my atm card, so they would do it that day, and to come back in a week. (because who with a bank account would actually want an atm card? Such an unusual request). So of course when I go back a week later, they tell me no one ordered an atm card for me. This has continued week by week until yesterday I had a fit and threatened them if I come back in a week and they still don't have an atm card for me - there will be trouble. But the thing is, there's nothing you can really do. Loving Israel requires laughing at Israel.
Now on to the latest delights of life here. I smile in the morning when I see the weather forecast: "abundant sunshine. 80 degrees." every day, hot and sunny. and its just getting hotter and hotter.. I love it. I had my first doctor's visit and the co-payment was 6 shekels. (approximately $1). wonderful. Also, I am dying over the strawberries here. I bought a kilo of strawberries for 5 shekels, went home and eagerly washed them, and just exclaimed to myself in delight as I stood alone in my kitchen eating them. They are the most delicious strawberries I've ever tasted -bursting with sweetness, lush and red and perfectly ripe. The smell emanates across the room. And the cherry tomatoes. I've never eaten cherry tomatoes the way I do here - they're better than candy. Perfect and fresh and sweet and crunchy - I could eat pounds of them. Speaking of pounds - burekas are going to be the death of me. I have allowed myself to indulge since I've been here, but I have to start seriously avoiding the burekas. An hour and a half of running might make up for one bureka. It's the worst.
Tonight in Tel Aviv is "Layla Lavan" - White Night - an annual tribute to "the white city" (tel aviv), and in honor of Tel Aviv's 100th birthday, celebrating with all-night parties and events throughout the city. Everything in the whole city is open all night. There will be music and performers and all kinds of festivities along Rothschild street, the street where I'm temporarily staying, so I've been told not to expect to sleep tonight before 6am or else to sleep elsewhere. It's going to be crazy!!!
Tomorrow morning I sign the lease on my new apartment, and I can't wait. June 1 is moving day.
On Sunday I take the Hebrew placement test to see which level Hebrew class I will be in. I'm ready to take it on!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
The hunt is over!
When people say apartment hunting in Tel Aviv is horrible, it's an understatement. I don't understand how so many people in this city live in such crap. But, there are the rare gems to be found - and thanks to my good fortune, I will be moving into a beautiful and brand-new apartment on June 1! It's with two girls, one Israeli-American and the other Israeli-Belgian, who are very sweet and I think we'll have a lot of fun together. The apartment is 2 floors, completely renovated, full of sunlight and we each have our own bathroom. Not bad! :-) (that's a big smile on my face)
Apartment hunting, while at once stressful and depressing, also has its perks - I met some really nice girls along the way, a few of whom I'm becoming friendly with. Also, it presents an opportunity to really practice Hebrew. I visited at least a dozen apartments where the roommates spoke only Hebrew to me, which forced me to step up my comprehension level rather quickly. It's amazing how quickly the gap is widening between my comprehension skills and my speaking skills. I am understanding more and more each day, but when I open my mouth to speak, I sound like a retarded person who never graduated past kindergarten. It's embarassing and frustrating. But even in just three weeks I've learned so much. Last night I went to a Shabbat dinner in Herzliyah with some family friends and the entire evening was in Hebrew. I was exhausted by the end of it but proud of myself for how much I was able to understand and communicate. My success and confidence in speaking Hebrew is very interconnected with the attitude/behavior of the person I'm talking to. Some people are very patient and speak clear, slow Hebrew, and we are able to communicate - while others get too frustrated and immediately switch to English. So depending on who I'm talking to I have varying degrees of confidence, which impacts my verbal skills. But I know these things take time, and once I start the ulpan it will get better and better.
On a side note - I had a successful shopping spree on dizengoff street the other day, using my "olah chadasha" (new immigrant) status to get 100 shekels off the bill. I thought the salesman was being zionistic and generous. After I left the store and continued down the street, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and it was the salesman - he ran after me to ask for my phone number. Ah, Israelis. so persistent!
Apartment hunting, while at once stressful and depressing, also has its perks - I met some really nice girls along the way, a few of whom I'm becoming friendly with. Also, it presents an opportunity to really practice Hebrew. I visited at least a dozen apartments where the roommates spoke only Hebrew to me, which forced me to step up my comprehension level rather quickly. It's amazing how quickly the gap is widening between my comprehension skills and my speaking skills. I am understanding more and more each day, but when I open my mouth to speak, I sound like a retarded person who never graduated past kindergarten. It's embarassing and frustrating. But even in just three weeks I've learned so much. Last night I went to a Shabbat dinner in Herzliyah with some family friends and the entire evening was in Hebrew. I was exhausted by the end of it but proud of myself for how much I was able to understand and communicate. My success and confidence in speaking Hebrew is very interconnected with the attitude/behavior of the person I'm talking to. Some people are very patient and speak clear, slow Hebrew, and we are able to communicate - while others get too frustrated and immediately switch to English. So depending on who I'm talking to I have varying degrees of confidence, which impacts my verbal skills. But I know these things take time, and once I start the ulpan it will get better and better.
On a side note - I had a successful shopping spree on dizengoff street the other day, using my "olah chadasha" (new immigrant) status to get 100 shekels off the bill. I thought the salesman was being zionistic and generous. After I left the store and continued down the street, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and it was the salesman - he ran after me to ask for my phone number. Ah, Israelis. so persistent!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Best time of my life
My life is too good to be true right now. Last night was one of the best nights of my life - in all honesty, it might have been the best night of my life. I went to my first "monsoon party" which is like a massive rave out in nature, usually in a forest or the desert. The selected location for this party was Kibbutz Beit Oren, a kibbutz situated at the top of the tallest mountain in the Carmel. To get there we had to drive up a slightly terrifying, twisting road on the edge of a cliff up the mountain. Mount Carmel national park is there, it looks beautiful. We made it to the top in one piece, parked and hiked up to the entrance. The sight took my breath away. A glimmering swimming pool on one side overlooks a magnificent view of the mountains and the sea in the distance; hundreds of people are having picnics and basking in the sun; one tent sells food and drinks and another tent opens up to the entrance to the dance floor. 'Dance floor' isn't even the right term - it was simply a massive, open space with hundreds of people dancing. The thing I loved the most about the place was that everyone came there to dance. Not like a dance bar where people are concerned with how they look and socializing, but a place where everyone completely lets go, does their own thing and dances freely and naturally and happily. I loved it immediately. I loved the energy; it was impossible to keep your body still. After a short dip in the pool and a food break, my friends and I danced for six hours!!! I was completely absorbed into the music. It felt amazing and so freeing -- these exciting trance beats building to intense crescendos that you just throw your body into, the wind blowing across your face, everyone around me smiling and dancing like they don't have a care in the world - and thinking that I'm here in Israel, surrounded by Jews, in the place that I finally always wanted to be, dancing openly to the wind and the sky and the mountains, with the sweet fresh air and the distant smell of horses from the kibbutz, and the creak of crickets and other animals in the underbrush - I almost cried I felt so happy.
I could have danced all night.
The one downside was that I wanted so badly to dance barefoot; I felt I could have felt even freer barefoot! but the dance area was covered with pieces of hay and dirt and pebbles that were quite painful. I ended up getting one painful splinter for which I had to enlist the lifeguard's help in removing, and after that I put my shoes back on :)
The other amazing thing about the party was the diversity of the crowd - whole families came to dance, even with babies! Children and dogs ran loose through the dance floor and they loved it. I couldn't believe it at the end of the night when I was leaving and I saw two boys, about 8 or 9 years old, still playing and dancing together. I hope I could be that cool of a mom to bring my future family to a party like that! I also saw a mom with a body better than mine holding her child and I was stunned - I simply don't understand how you can give birth and have a body like that. (it's easy if you're a celebrity and have personal chefs and trainers - but how do these Israeli women do it?!?) ah the mysteries of life.
My Tel Aviv apartment hunt continues - no luck yet but I'm staying optimistic! :-)
and spent another beautiful afternoon today on the Tel Aviv beach... it's getting hotter every day :-)
Even though I have yet to find a home and master the language and all the other tasks that lay before me, I feel absolutely content, so completely happy and fortunate, that I can do nothing but smile :-)
I could have danced all night.
The one downside was that I wanted so badly to dance barefoot; I felt I could have felt even freer barefoot! but the dance area was covered with pieces of hay and dirt and pebbles that were quite painful. I ended up getting one painful splinter for which I had to enlist the lifeguard's help in removing, and after that I put my shoes back on :)
The other amazing thing about the party was the diversity of the crowd - whole families came to dance, even with babies! Children and dogs ran loose through the dance floor and they loved it. I couldn't believe it at the end of the night when I was leaving and I saw two boys, about 8 or 9 years old, still playing and dancing together. I hope I could be that cool of a mom to bring my future family to a party like that! I also saw a mom with a body better than mine holding her child and I was stunned - I simply don't understand how you can give birth and have a body like that. (it's easy if you're a celebrity and have personal chefs and trainers - but how do these Israeli women do it?!?) ah the mysteries of life.
My Tel Aviv apartment hunt continues - no luck yet but I'm staying optimistic! :-)
and spent another beautiful afternoon today on the Tel Aviv beach... it's getting hotter every day :-)
Even though I have yet to find a home and master the language and all the other tasks that lay before me, I feel absolutely content, so completely happy and fortunate, that I can do nothing but smile :-)
Friday, May 15, 2009
Unforgettable encounter
A kind of unbelievable thing happened to me tonight.
The night started out with some friends at a live music show with a diverse hipster crowd (including a hilarious man in the back who kept shouting out the most random things -- like, "shnitzel in a pita!", "testicles no problem!", and "condoleeza!") so random, hilarious. then i went dancing with another friend at a typical tel aviv dance bar: israeli techno music, guys and girls dancing on the bartop, flashing lights and a slideshow of pictures of random israelis illuminated on the wall.
anyway i was having a great time, but all of a sudden, i felt like i should leave the bar. i was just suddenly ready to go. so i leave, by myself, and as i'm walking down the street a man comes up to me. he asks me, "do you write or create things?" im like "excuse me?" and he's like, "do you write, are you a writer?" and im like "yeah why?" and hes like "i'm not surprised. can i tell you the color of your aura?" and at this point, im like what the hell is going on. im a little bit drunk, alone at 1 in the morning, with this random guy asking me about the color of my aura. im skeptical to say the least. but, intrigued. so he goes on to tell me im a light blue, that i have a lot of passion for life but i hold things in my belly, which is why i need to create. im like, hold on a minute, do you just go up to random people telling them the color of their aura? and he's like, no, i can only pick up on the colors of people who are aware of themselves. which is not a lot of people, but you are. so then i thought to myself, what would his color be... and instinctively i think an orange-red color. so i ask him what his color is, and he says red. at that point, im like whoa. what is going on. we end up having this unbelievable conversation - he seems like a pretty regular guy, works in marketing, yada yada, but was telling me all these things about myself -- like how i just did this incredible thing, moving to israel, but i dont appreciate myself enough for what i did, im always thinking about the future and what i have to do next. and how its good i have a lot of passion for life and the future but that i need to balance that with staying in the present, knowing how to relax. he says i carry too much on my shoulders and thats why yoga is good for me. but i should not limit myself by saying what i can or cant do; life will put enough handcuffs on me without my needing to put more on myself. im like flipping out hearing him say all these things. it was too weird - but everything he said rang so true. his parting words to me were "dont forget yourself." hes right. he knew exactly what i needed to hear. and he expected nothing in return. he went his way and i went mine, but i'll never forget this encounter.
The night started out with some friends at a live music show with a diverse hipster crowd (including a hilarious man in the back who kept shouting out the most random things -- like, "shnitzel in a pita!", "testicles no problem!", and "condoleeza!") so random, hilarious. then i went dancing with another friend at a typical tel aviv dance bar: israeli techno music, guys and girls dancing on the bartop, flashing lights and a slideshow of pictures of random israelis illuminated on the wall.
anyway i was having a great time, but all of a sudden, i felt like i should leave the bar. i was just suddenly ready to go. so i leave, by myself, and as i'm walking down the street a man comes up to me. he asks me, "do you write or create things?" im like "excuse me?" and he's like, "do you write, are you a writer?" and im like "yeah why?" and hes like "i'm not surprised. can i tell you the color of your aura?" and at this point, im like what the hell is going on. im a little bit drunk, alone at 1 in the morning, with this random guy asking me about the color of my aura. im skeptical to say the least. but, intrigued. so he goes on to tell me im a light blue, that i have a lot of passion for life but i hold things in my belly, which is why i need to create. im like, hold on a minute, do you just go up to random people telling them the color of their aura? and he's like, no, i can only pick up on the colors of people who are aware of themselves. which is not a lot of people, but you are. so then i thought to myself, what would his color be... and instinctively i think an orange-red color. so i ask him what his color is, and he says red. at that point, im like whoa. what is going on. we end up having this unbelievable conversation - he seems like a pretty regular guy, works in marketing, yada yada, but was telling me all these things about myself -- like how i just did this incredible thing, moving to israel, but i dont appreciate myself enough for what i did, im always thinking about the future and what i have to do next. and how its good i have a lot of passion for life and the future but that i need to balance that with staying in the present, knowing how to relax. he says i carry too much on my shoulders and thats why yoga is good for me. but i should not limit myself by saying what i can or cant do; life will put enough handcuffs on me without my needing to put more on myself. im like flipping out hearing him say all these things. it was too weird - but everything he said rang so true. his parting words to me were "dont forget yourself." hes right. he knew exactly what i needed to hear. and he expected nothing in return. he went his way and i went mine, but i'll never forget this encounter.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Misrad HaKlita, Lag b'Omer, and Chrissie
On the heels of Jen's departure arrived Chrissie, my good friend Jessie's younger sister, who came for a day trip to Tel Aviv from Amman. It was wonderful to see her. She is studying Arabic full-time and exploring a new culture, not dissimilar from my current situation. We spent the afternoon on the beach, walking north along the boardwalk to the port, and ate dinner at Max Brenner (yes, that's right - I'm not ashamed to admit that I went back for round 2 of the thick Italian hot chocolate! I can't help myself, hehe). I had many questions for Chrissie about what it was like to be a young single American girl living in a religious Muslim environment. We spoke at length about modesty, dress, and women's rights. I learned new things, like if a girl is seen walking around outside with wet hair, it implies that she has just had sex, so girls who don't cover their hair have to blow dry it before going outside. Chrissie explained that the religious Muslim girls feel about their piety the way we Americans feel about our freedom. That is their primary value. I can respect it but I'm thankful that I was not born into that culture!
Last night marked the eve of Lag b'Omer, a holiday whose meaning I am still yet to fully grasp. I understand it in Israel as an excuse for mass bonfires. We drove past kikar hamedina, an enormous traffic circle, which must have had several dozen bonfires across it and thousands of children running wild. Today the air is still slightly tinted with the smell of smoke, it reminds me a little bit of camp.
Yesterday I also made my first visit to Misrad haKlita, the Ministry of Absorption. Everyone had warned me to be ready for a headache, but I found it rather organized and low-key actually. I met with my absorption counselor who signed me up for my "sal klita" payments - almost 16,000 shekels dispersed over the next 7 months. I also received a voucher for 550 hours of free ulpan (hebrew language immersion). she explained to me how I have to apply for an Israeli driver's license and an Israeli passport. ugh. later! I also obtained information about going for graduate school in Israel - if I decide to study in Hebrew it will be totally free. And my counselor STRONGLY urged me to do it in Hebrew (of course she would). but if I do a program in English, it's partly subsidized. I have 3 years to take advantage of this benefit and then it expires. hmm...
next item on the agenda - find an apartment!
Last night marked the eve of Lag b'Omer, a holiday whose meaning I am still yet to fully grasp. I understand it in Israel as an excuse for mass bonfires. We drove past kikar hamedina, an enormous traffic circle, which must have had several dozen bonfires across it and thousands of children running wild. Today the air is still slightly tinted with the smell of smoke, it reminds me a little bit of camp.
Yesterday I also made my first visit to Misrad haKlita, the Ministry of Absorption. Everyone had warned me to be ready for a headache, but I found it rather organized and low-key actually. I met with my absorption counselor who signed me up for my "sal klita" payments - almost 16,000 shekels dispersed over the next 7 months. I also received a voucher for 550 hours of free ulpan (hebrew language immersion). she explained to me how I have to apply for an Israeli driver's license and an Israeli passport. ugh. later! I also obtained information about going for graduate school in Israel - if I decide to study in Hebrew it will be totally free. And my counselor STRONGLY urged me to do it in Hebrew (of course she would). but if I do a program in English, it's partly subsidized. I have 3 years to take advantage of this benefit and then it expires. hmm...
next item on the agenda - find an apartment!
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Jen's visit winds to a close
Two weeks of partying catches up to me - Libbie wakes up with a sore throat. (Actually when I talked to other olim some said they got sick one week after making aliyah. So I guess the fact that I lasted two weeks isn't so bad :)
I think I just need to sleep for a couple days and I'll recuperate. I'm still adjusting to Israeli weather, water, lifestyle, etc...
However, I may have discovered a cure. For Jen's last dinner in Tel Aviv we went to Max Brenner, the famous chocolate factory. I wasn't feeling well but in Jen's honor I ordered a thick Italian hot chocolate. It is a steaming cup of thick, rich, pure dark chocolate. HEAVEN. After a few sips I literally felt my heart racing, and suddenly I could not stop laughing. It was like a jolt of energy to my system. I think I need to go back for round 2 today.
I also had the opportunity to meet some of Jen's Israeli friends (see pics) before she left. Everyone has been so warm and friendly and generous. Everyone I meet invites me to their home, for meals, for anything I need. I'm meeting so many new people every day. Yesterday I even got asked out by a man selling posters on the street. (did he actually think I would say yes? hmm)
As Jen's final hurrah we paid a visit to the Migdalor, a dance club on the top floor of an office building (which is floor 16, so it's tall for Israeli standards!) as we danced to the uplifting techno beats (and yes i'm loving the Israeli trance music!) I looked around the windows at the view of Tel Aviv twinkling below, and I couldn't stop smiling. This is my home. I love being here in my home.
I think I just need to sleep for a couple days and I'll recuperate. I'm still adjusting to Israeli weather, water, lifestyle, etc...
However, I may have discovered a cure. For Jen's last dinner in Tel Aviv we went to Max Brenner, the famous chocolate factory. I wasn't feeling well but in Jen's honor I ordered a thick Italian hot chocolate. It is a steaming cup of thick, rich, pure dark chocolate. HEAVEN. After a few sips I literally felt my heart racing, and suddenly I could not stop laughing. It was like a jolt of energy to my system. I think I need to go back for round 2 today.
I also had the opportunity to meet some of Jen's Israeli friends (see pics) before she left. Everyone has been so warm and friendly and generous. Everyone I meet invites me to their home, for meals, for anything I need. I'm meeting so many new people every day. Yesterday I even got asked out by a man selling posters on the street. (did he actually think I would say yes? hmm)
As Jen's final hurrah we paid a visit to the Migdalor, a dance club on the top floor of an office building (which is floor 16, so it's tall for Israeli standards!) as we danced to the uplifting techno beats (and yes i'm loving the Israeli trance music!) I looked around the windows at the view of Tel Aviv twinkling below, and I couldn't stop smiling. This is my home. I love being here in my home.
Yom Studentim and Misebat Teva in Hadera
With Jen's return to Tel Aviv, the fun began. After a lovely day at the beach on Thursday, we took the train to Hadera, a small town 40 minutes north of Tel Aviv. Thursday night was "Yom HaStudent", or student day, at my friend Boaz's college. Every college and university in Israel has a "yom student" around this time of year, and it's basically like a carnival/concert/all-day-and-night party for the students and whoever else they decide to invite along. There are clowns on stilts, rock-climbing walls, trampolines, games for prizes, tents for chilling out, bars, food and coffee shops, and of course a huge stage for the sequence of bands and thousands of dancing students. For some reason I decided I had to try the electric trampoline - not something I would usually do but it's not every day I'm at a yom student. They harness you into belts and cables and pump up the trampoline full of air until you're able to bounce really high and do flips and things. It was so exhilirating, such an adrenaline rush! I was able to do a backwards flip relatively easily but somehow flipping forward was much more terrifying. Also you are supposed to bounce up and down in the center of the trampoline but I kept bouncing from front to back until the trampoline man had to stand there and keep catching my legs and slowing me down to bounce in a straight line again. haha. good thing I did the trampoline early in the night because it didn't seem to go so well for a lot of people after hours of drinking. I also decided to try this ladder contest, which is a challenge to simply walk up 5 rungs of a ladder without it flipping over (it's on a rope) so it's basically just a test of balance. you pay 20 shekels to try and if you can do it, you win 300 shekels. I thought hey, I've been doing yoga for a year and a half this will be a piece of cake! I lost many shekels trying over and over to do it, I couldn't even get to the second rung without flipping. Again not a smart game after a bout of drinking. The best part of the concert was Ivri Leader, one of my all-time favorite favorite Israeli singers. I'm in love. Hadag Nachash also performed which was a delightful surprise.
Once the party started winding down, around midnight, the party buses arrived to transport the crowd to the "misebat teva" or "Nature Party." THAT was the best surprise of all. so we crowd into these buses and they take us to a valley somewhere between Hadera and Netanya, drop us off, and we make our way through the dark to this secured clearing. At first all you see are some flashing lights and you hear a distant techno beat. as you get closer you see tents set up with a DJ, strobe lights and an enormous dance floor. then there's a "chill-out" tent covered in straw mats and low tables with things to drink and smoke. there are food stands selling sweets and fruit and hot drinks. i couldn't believe where I was. unfortunately by this point in the evening I was EXHAUSTED and so I headed straight for the "chill tent" and found a comfortable spot to lie down and watch the dance floor fill up. the sky above us was kindof murky with clouds half-covering the moon. it felt like we were in the middle of the desert even though we weren't so far from the ocean. somehow despite the loud music I fell asleep, and woke up a little while later slightly embarrassed that i had had one of the famous libbie 'narcoleptic attacks' (haha jk) at such a cool party. that was until i looked up and noticed that half the people lying around me were sleeping. Boaz explained that this was like "nap time", from midnight to 3am, because the dance party doesn't really get started until 3 am, when the really good DJ comes on. then everyone dances as the sun comes up. incredible.
the only bad thing about the nature party is that being in the valley in the middle of the night is actually pretty cold. when we asked about leaving (silly question) it turned out there was actually no way to get out of there - the party buses only go one way apparently. i laughed thinking how i moved from the comforts of america to come to Israel and sleep outside in a valley in the middle of nowhere. ha. thankfully a friend came to rescue us and to sleep in a bed we finally succumbed.
Once the party started winding down, around midnight, the party buses arrived to transport the crowd to the "misebat teva" or "Nature Party." THAT was the best surprise of all. so we crowd into these buses and they take us to a valley somewhere between Hadera and Netanya, drop us off, and we make our way through the dark to this secured clearing. At first all you see are some flashing lights and you hear a distant techno beat. as you get closer you see tents set up with a DJ, strobe lights and an enormous dance floor. then there's a "chill-out" tent covered in straw mats and low tables with things to drink and smoke. there are food stands selling sweets and fruit and hot drinks. i couldn't believe where I was. unfortunately by this point in the evening I was EXHAUSTED and so I headed straight for the "chill tent" and found a comfortable spot to lie down and watch the dance floor fill up. the sky above us was kindof murky with clouds half-covering the moon. it felt like we were in the middle of the desert even though we weren't so far from the ocean. somehow despite the loud music I fell asleep, and woke up a little while later slightly embarrassed that i had had one of the famous libbie 'narcoleptic attacks' (haha jk) at such a cool party. that was until i looked up and noticed that half the people lying around me were sleeping. Boaz explained that this was like "nap time", from midnight to 3am, because the dance party doesn't really get started until 3 am, when the really good DJ comes on. then everyone dances as the sun comes up. incredible.
the only bad thing about the nature party is that being in the valley in the middle of the night is actually pretty cold. when we asked about leaving (silly question) it turned out there was actually no way to get out of there - the party buses only go one way apparently. i laughed thinking how i moved from the comforts of america to come to Israel and sleep outside in a valley in the middle of nowhere. ha. thankfully a friend came to rescue us and to sleep in a bed we finally succumbed.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Yoni to the rescue
I learned many interesting things today. First, always bring an Israeli with you when you go to get a new cell phone. Second, "combina" is an extremely important word/concept. It basically means figuring out a way around something without being technically illegal. Almost like going in reverse all the way back down a one-way street. Technically you're not supposed to do it but it gets you where you want to be without actually breaking the law. So that's what my good friend Yoni helped me figure out today, finagling a unique phone plan for me that I can afford :-) at last!!!
I also learned at the bank this morning that every single transaction you do, whether a withdrawal, deposit - stepping foot in the bank essentially - costs money. You actually have to pay money to deposit more money into your account, even if it's in cash. Silly and stupid.
But, I also discovered something cool Israel has that America doesn't yet - "easy park." it's almost like a "fast lane" concept for parking. instead of paying meters on the street when you park, you have a credit card thing that you pre-pay and stick it in your window when you park. pretty cool.
after a day of shlepping and finagling, Yoni and I were ready to be pampered. we went to his parent's house in Ramat Aviv for a nice home-cooked meal. I adore his parents - his dad regaled me with stories about how he feeds the stray cats outside their apartment building. it's come to the point now when he pulls his car into the parking lot every day about 20 cats come out from all directions and hound his car, getting on top of it and inside it if they can. he puts the food out in many small portions so all the cats eat orderly together. sometimes he puts the food in a line, in a circle, different designs for his amusement. and they love him. he even had a contest with their 2 dogs and 2 lines of food to see which dog would finish faster. i saw pictures of it, hilarious.
Now Jen is back with me in Tel Aviv and I'm THRILLED. we are going to "yom studentim" (student day) tomorrow in Hadera which is about 30 minutes north of Tel Aviv. I'm so excited to see Ivri Leader, one of my favorite Israeli singers, who's going to perform there.
Yay for a successful day! :-)
I also learned at the bank this morning that every single transaction you do, whether a withdrawal, deposit - stepping foot in the bank essentially - costs money. You actually have to pay money to deposit more money into your account, even if it's in cash. Silly and stupid.
But, I also discovered something cool Israel has that America doesn't yet - "easy park." it's almost like a "fast lane" concept for parking. instead of paying meters on the street when you park, you have a credit card thing that you pre-pay and stick it in your window when you park. pretty cool.
after a day of shlepping and finagling, Yoni and I were ready to be pampered. we went to his parent's house in Ramat Aviv for a nice home-cooked meal. I adore his parents - his dad regaled me with stories about how he feeds the stray cats outside their apartment building. it's come to the point now when he pulls his car into the parking lot every day about 20 cats come out from all directions and hound his car, getting on top of it and inside it if they can. he puts the food out in many small portions so all the cats eat orderly together. sometimes he puts the food in a line, in a circle, different designs for his amusement. and they love him. he even had a contest with their 2 dogs and 2 lines of food to see which dog would finish faster. i saw pictures of it, hilarious.
Now Jen is back with me in Tel Aviv and I'm THRILLED. we are going to "yom studentim" (student day) tomorrow in Hadera which is about 30 minutes north of Tel Aviv. I'm so excited to see Ivri Leader, one of my favorite Israeli singers, who's going to perform there.
Yay for a successful day! :-)
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Laughing at a bad day
So everyone had warned me that my moment of frustration with Israel would come, and I certainly experienced that today! But like my friend Shira advised, you have to take everything here with a laugh. Humor is the only way to deal! Be grateful we at least have a state, she reminded me. Israel is only 61 years old, she's a baby. Be patient with her.
So patient I was - for an hour and a half at the bank this morning while the bankers tried to set up my account. They couldn't quite figure it out for some reason so they told me I have to come back tomorrow. Fine.
Then to the cell phone store to get a phone and a plan. I brought along my trusty friend Tamar for moral and language support. First we went to Orange to get their rates then walked five feet to the right to compare with the Cellcom desk. The back-and-forth resulted in a bidding and bargaining war over the different rates, features, benefits, etc. I felt like I was in an Arab shuk. There was nothing official, no pamphlets or flyers with official numbers. Just white pieces of paper and pens that they scribbled numbers down and circled things trying to make it look like I was getting a deal. The first offer I got was 500 shekels a month - unbelievable. We decided to take a break for food and come back. When we came back about an hour later, the salesperson we had talked to was gone and the new person told us that what the previous person told us was actually wrong, and quoted me a whole new price package. I couldn't even deal with how ridiculous the situation was - that's when Shira's advice could certainly come in handy! When it comes to salespeople here I'm learning very quickly never to believe any of them. In the end I walked away empty-handed and decided to sleep on it and go back tomorrow.
I came home to do some much-needed laundry and accidentally shrunk the blanket of the bed of the apartment I'm renting. So I realized - this is just one of those days. I shouldn't try to do anything else today because I will most certainly screw it up! So I'm going out :-) I don't think I can screw up fun, I hope!
So patient I was - for an hour and a half at the bank this morning while the bankers tried to set up my account. They couldn't quite figure it out for some reason so they told me I have to come back tomorrow. Fine.
Then to the cell phone store to get a phone and a plan. I brought along my trusty friend Tamar for moral and language support. First we went to Orange to get their rates then walked five feet to the right to compare with the Cellcom desk. The back-and-forth resulted in a bidding and bargaining war over the different rates, features, benefits, etc. I felt like I was in an Arab shuk. There was nothing official, no pamphlets or flyers with official numbers. Just white pieces of paper and pens that they scribbled numbers down and circled things trying to make it look like I was getting a deal. The first offer I got was 500 shekels a month - unbelievable. We decided to take a break for food and come back. When we came back about an hour later, the salesperson we had talked to was gone and the new person told us that what the previous person told us was actually wrong, and quoted me a whole new price package. I couldn't even deal with how ridiculous the situation was - that's when Shira's advice could certainly come in handy! When it comes to salespeople here I'm learning very quickly never to believe any of them. In the end I walked away empty-handed and decided to sleep on it and go back tomorrow.
I came home to do some much-needed laundry and accidentally shrunk the blanket of the bed of the apartment I'm renting. So I realized - this is just one of those days. I shouldn't try to do anything else today because I will most certainly screw it up! So I'm going out :-) I don't think I can screw up fun, I hope!
Monday, May 4, 2009
Jerusalem is crazy and wonderful
Today I received my teudat zehut!!! (my official Israeli identity card) it was very exciting. I also received my financial assistance from Nefesh b'Nefesh so I have much to smile about today :-)
As I rode the familiar bus ride up the twisting highway into Jerusalem, my heart lifted. It's a feeling of exhiliration that only Jerusalem can inspire.
Jerusalem is a truly wonderful and crazy place. Almost as soon as you set foot on the ground you can sense the madness, the intensity, the vivacity. I decided to take a city bus to save some shekels and almost immediately regretted it. I felt unsafe for the first time since I've been here. Even though it's probably totally irrational, I thought about bus bombings and felt the tension of all the people on the bus and just had a flash of fear. It's funny because I feel completely safe in Tel Aviv, but Jerusalem makes me nervous sometimes. At least it does in the downtown central areas. All I can say is, when I returned to Tel Aviv this afternoon, my sense of calm renewed!
Today I also had the joy and pleasure of lunch with my dear, dear friend Aliza in the Jerusalem shuk (market). I had the most delicious salad - I couldn't tell you what half the vegetables in it were called, but my mouth didnt care! it was scrumptious.
As I rode the familiar bus ride up the twisting highway into Jerusalem, my heart lifted. It's a feeling of exhiliration that only Jerusalem can inspire.
Jerusalem is a truly wonderful and crazy place. Almost as soon as you set foot on the ground you can sense the madness, the intensity, the vivacity. I decided to take a city bus to save some shekels and almost immediately regretted it. I felt unsafe for the first time since I've been here. Even though it's probably totally irrational, I thought about bus bombings and felt the tension of all the people on the bus and just had a flash of fear. It's funny because I feel completely safe in Tel Aviv, but Jerusalem makes me nervous sometimes. At least it does in the downtown central areas. All I can say is, when I returned to Tel Aviv this afternoon, my sense of calm renewed!
Today I also had the joy and pleasure of lunch with my dear, dear friend Aliza in the Jerusalem shuk (market). I had the most delicious salad - I couldn't tell you what half the vegetables in it were called, but my mouth didnt care! it was scrumptious.
reflections on "my honeymoon"
I'm tired of people telling me to "enjoy the honeymoon period" and how terribly hard it will be to live in Israel. First of all, I'm not naive or stupid. I know life in Israel isn't/won't be easy. But constantly hearing it over and over doesn't help me in any way. I can't enjoy the "honeymoon period" if you keep calling it that! (I mean, I absolutely am enjoying every second, but you get my point). so much of our reality is connected to our perceptions and expectations. when i expect my day to be difficult, or when i face it smiling and light-hearted, the day turns out differently. and second of all, life isnt so easy anywhere. of course life in america is easy in ways it isn't here (mostly in materialistic ways), but life everywhere and anywhere is difficult. we would get bored with life if it was smooth sailing all the time. at least in Israel i'm constantly feeling grateful. i'm grateful to have the state of israel. i'm grateful to feel safe and proud living openly as a Jew. i'm grateful that everyone here understands me (on a certain level). anyway, i hope people will soon cease to remind me that life here is so difficult and i'm on a honeymoon. aliyah is like getting married - you dont fall out of love just because things get hard. the love only grows stronger. and i intend to enjoy the full lifetime :-)
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Happy day in Tel Aviv
I went for my first real run in Tel Aviv today, down Rothschild through the city to the beach. Once I got to the ocean and smelled the refreshing ocean air, I realized I really have to find an apartment close to the beach. There's something about smelling the ocean on a regular basis - much better than the air deeper in the city with all the cars and cigarettes and dog poop.
As I neared Jaffa I stopped for a few minutes by the rocks and climbed down to a perch overlooking the waves. I watched the foamy water lather over the mossy rocks and felt extremely at peace. I realized I felt more at peace at that moment than I have in years. I am finally where I want to be. All the struggling over my aliyah decision is over. I can finally enjoy being where I belong. Tears came to my eyes as I realized this immense peace that has finally entered my heart and my mind. Making aliyah has put an end to an inner struggle that had gone on for years. My heart is full of love for Israel.
Last night I met some Australian olim and one of them, a guy, said he felt that making aliyah and falling in love with Israel was the same feeling as falling in love with a girl. I was touched that he put words to my experience exactly.
On my sherut ride home (at 4 in the morning after a night of hopping bars in the namal) there was a Canadian, American and Brit - 3 guys - who were carrying 2 newborn puppies home with them. i absolutely fell in love with them (the puppies) and got to play with the female, Darling, the whole ride home. at the end of the ride the canadian gave me his # so I could come over and play with Darling as much as I want! I am definitely going to take him up on his offer :-)
As I neared Jaffa I stopped for a few minutes by the rocks and climbed down to a perch overlooking the waves. I watched the foamy water lather over the mossy rocks and felt extremely at peace. I realized I felt more at peace at that moment than I have in years. I am finally where I want to be. All the struggling over my aliyah decision is over. I can finally enjoy being where I belong. Tears came to my eyes as I realized this immense peace that has finally entered my heart and my mind. Making aliyah has put an end to an inner struggle that had gone on for years. My heart is full of love for Israel.
Last night I met some Australian olim and one of them, a guy, said he felt that making aliyah and falling in love with Israel was the same feeling as falling in love with a girl. I was touched that he put words to my experience exactly.
On my sherut ride home (at 4 in the morning after a night of hopping bars in the namal) there was a Canadian, American and Brit - 3 guys - who were carrying 2 newborn puppies home with them. i absolutely fell in love with them (the puppies) and got to play with the female, Darling, the whole ride home. at the end of the ride the canadian gave me his # so I could come over and play with Darling as much as I want! I am definitely going to take him up on his offer :-)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Nana in Ranana!
Dinner was unforgettable! A group of co-workers and I went to "Makom b'Lev" (a place in the heart) in the town Ra'anana north of Tel Aviv. the place is gorgeous, set beside a kibbutz and decorated like a garden with beautiful fountains and lights and music. the food was definitely unique -- we ate some kind of grilled pita with minced meat, a phallic-looking eggplant dish with pine nuts and something smoky tasting, and "limonana" (mint lemonade). when the food arrived it turned out they forgot my main course, so instead of offering to compensate the mistake by putting my dish on the house, they instead brought me a complimentary bowl of tomato soup with a risotto ball. it was the most random thing ever. who was the waitress to say i even liked tomato soup?! and why was there only one ball?! a friend nicknamed it "risoball" and cracked inappropriate jokes about it all evening. we were all silly and had a glorious time.
after dinner Jen and I hit up our first random Tel Aviv bar with some Israelis we had met at the street party earlier. (potentially a mistake) the bar seemed normal for the first hour or so, with typical music and drinks and dancing. that was until the music suddenly stopped and everyone gathered at the front where a stage was set up. the curtain parted and before us was the freakiest thing ive ever seen - i didnt even know what it was. it looked like a mime and a midget and a nightmare all combined. i asked the israeli what was going on and his casual response was, "oh, its a freakshow." i look at jen and we're both terrified and laughing at the same time. it literally was a freakshow i cant even describe it. im going to try to forget i ever saw it so i dont have nightmares.
after dinner Jen and I hit up our first random Tel Aviv bar with some Israelis we had met at the street party earlier. (potentially a mistake) the bar seemed normal for the first hour or so, with typical music and drinks and dancing. that was until the music suddenly stopped and everyone gathered at the front where a stage was set up. the curtain parted and before us was the freakiest thing ive ever seen - i didnt even know what it was. it looked like a mime and a midget and a nightmare all combined. i asked the israeli what was going on and his casual response was, "oh, its a freakshow." i look at jen and we're both terrified and laughing at the same time. it literally was a freakshow i cant even describe it. im going to try to forget i ever saw it so i dont have nightmares.
Good friends and street parties!
My dear friend Jen arrived on Friday for a visit. I took her and another friend on a tour of Neve Tzedek, one of my favorite quaint neighborhoods in southern Tel Aviv. We enjoyed traditional Israeli breakfast in the sunshine, gelato ice cream, and a stroll along the beach boardwalk. The best part of the day was stumbling accidentally into a street party - throngs of people dancing and drinking and chilling in the street to a DJ mixing techno and hip hop.
I like how people bring their children to dance among the 20-somethings, and senior citizens watch from adjoining benches. In general children are incorporated much more into society here than in America, from my point of view. They are welcome and accepted in almost every environment - street parties, restaurants, stores... you see young children and pregnant women and parents pushing strollers almost everywhere you look. And the young mothers still have fit bodies and stylish outfits! It's the model I like for my future family :-)
I like how people bring their children to dance among the 20-somethings, and senior citizens watch from adjoining benches. In general children are incorporated much more into society here than in America, from my point of view. They are welcome and accepted in almost every environment - street parties, restaurants, stores... you see young children and pregnant women and parents pushing strollers almost everywhere you look. And the young mothers still have fit bodies and stylish outfits! It's the model I like for my future family :-)
Insured for 14 shekels!
After the holidays subsided I went to tackle my first order of business - getting health insurance. It required a visit to the post office (random) where I paid a whopping 14 shekels to get signed up. I then paid a visit to the specific kupat cholim (insurance company) to obtain my card and booklet. I couldn't believe how easy it was! America, here's something to learn :-)
Yom haatzmaut day
I had thought when I made aliyah that I would constantly be telling people "I'm an olah chadasha!" but I actually find myself saying it very rarely. I'm immediately accepted as Israeli by Israelis. It's really nice. When I do tell people I just made aliyah, the reaction is generally rather nonchalant. I guess in a way, most people here are an "oleh" one way or another!
It's customary to eat a lot of meat on Israel's independence day. That evening I reunited with old close friends for a mouth-watering hamburger at the famous "Moses" burgers in tel aviv.
It's customary to eat a lot of meat on Israel's independence day. That evening I reunited with old close friends for a mouth-watering hamburger at the famous "Moses" burgers in tel aviv.
Friday, May 1, 2009
First day in Israel
I arrived in Israel on erev Yom Hazikaron - Israel's Remembrance Day for fallen soldiers. I missed most of the ceremonies due to my jetlag, but the next day is Yom Haatzmaut - Israel's Independence Day! Israel turned 61 on Tuesday night. I went to Kikar Rabin (Rabin Square) to see a show with dancers, singers, speeches and fireworks. The night continued with rooftop parties all across Tel Aviv where I reunited with some old friends from Harvard Chabad. I fell asleep at 4am to the sound of honking, music and revelers outside celebrating til dawn and throughout the next day.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Aliyah Flight & Arrival
Nefesh b'Nefesh seated the olim (immigrants) - about 50 of us - together on an El Al flight so we could connect and support one another during the experience :-)
Coming to Aliyah
The decision to make aliyah is not arrived at intellectually, through thought; rather it is a purely emotional choice made by the heart.
As a 26-year-old born-and-bred Bostonian about to make aliyah this April, I wanted my community to understand this choice.
It's easy for many Jews to understand the love for Israel - the feeling of seeing Hebrew everywhere, knowing everyone around you is Jewish, and having access to kosher food in restaurants as a normal occurrence. After working for the past three years in the Boston Jewish community (at The David Project), I have seen first-hand the passion for Israel that drives so many American Jews to devote their careers to Israel. When I talk to people about Israel, I see nostalgia in the eyes of older adults and the bright, sometimes overwhelmed faces of returning Birthright participants.
Most of us know what it feels like to fall in love with Israel. But I have noticed many, including myself, are quick to turn our minds against our emotions. There are endless excuses not to make aliyah – lack of economic opportunities, the salary differences, the war and conflict, the language barrier – and yes, all those issues exist, and could exist in almost any place at any time.
I decided to make aliyah because I realized that American life, with all its luxuries, was still lacking something for me. What that thing is, you and I both feel when we're in Israel.
When I go for runs along the beach in Tel Aviv, I sometimes imagine what it looked like when the ships carrying Jewish refugees pulled into the safe harbor of Israeli territory. Today, amidst beachgoers and bikers, small monuments dot the Tel Aviv promenade marking the sites where so many Jews arrived with nothing but their freedom.
I am able to enjoy the exciting, wonderful city that Tel Aviv is today because of those who have worked to make it so. Israel must continue to grow and cannot be taken for granted. I see myself as part of a circle; today is my turn to contribute, so that the next generation may feel inspired to continue the work. I love America, and becoming Israeli does not make me feel less like an American. I am making aliyah simply because I feel incomplete anywhere else.
As a 26-year-old born-and-bred Bostonian about to make aliyah this April, I wanted my community to understand this choice.
It's easy for many Jews to understand the love for Israel - the feeling of seeing Hebrew everywhere, knowing everyone around you is Jewish, and having access to kosher food in restaurants as a normal occurrence. After working for the past three years in the Boston Jewish community (at The David Project), I have seen first-hand the passion for Israel that drives so many American Jews to devote their careers to Israel. When I talk to people about Israel, I see nostalgia in the eyes of older adults and the bright, sometimes overwhelmed faces of returning Birthright participants.
Most of us know what it feels like to fall in love with Israel. But I have noticed many, including myself, are quick to turn our minds against our emotions. There are endless excuses not to make aliyah – lack of economic opportunities, the salary differences, the war and conflict, the language barrier – and yes, all those issues exist, and could exist in almost any place at any time.
I decided to make aliyah because I realized that American life, with all its luxuries, was still lacking something for me. What that thing is, you and I both feel when we're in Israel.
When I go for runs along the beach in Tel Aviv, I sometimes imagine what it looked like when the ships carrying Jewish refugees pulled into the safe harbor of Israeli territory. Today, amidst beachgoers and bikers, small monuments dot the Tel Aviv promenade marking the sites where so many Jews arrived with nothing but their freedom.
I am able to enjoy the exciting, wonderful city that Tel Aviv is today because of those who have worked to make it so. Israel must continue to grow and cannot be taken for granted. I see myself as part of a circle; today is my turn to contribute, so that the next generation may feel inspired to continue the work. I love America, and becoming Israeli does not make me feel less like an American. I am making aliyah simply because I feel incomplete anywhere else.
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