"A fanatic is someone who can't change their mind and won't change the subject."
-Winston Churchill
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
springtime part deux
The spring has been rather lovely. Most of the time I feel like a poor Pollyanna. I dream of living on 16th street and biking to a development job, yet I sleep in my dad's house and scrounge up bike money. Despite that, things have for the most part been going well. Here are current life observations and current self-improvement hopes, brought to you by yours truly.
Life observation: There ARE fantastic guys in the world. And, not all of them are foreign and/or Jewish! Or even fans of the city! I've met someone who "haings" with me, who can read my thoughts, who gets turned on by my stack of library books, and who can own a political conversation. I must have rescued a family of whales in my past life to get this lucky.
Life observation: The most interesting people at work are the old people and, like any other people, they are full of contradictions.
Take the former Peace Corps volunteer who bikes to work and listens to Rush Limbaugh. Or the potty mouthed teacher with the secret heart of gold. Or the creepy, rapey, Borderline personality weirdo who might, under it all, just be a scared man. Everyone I work with fascinates me- I love their stories, their lives, how they got to work here, and what crazy things I can get them to admit.
Life observation: I need to exercise more.
Also
Life observation: I am not in Europe anymore- thus, the Coke I drink goes to my stomach, it does not get magically walked off.
I need to move it move it. Maybe AM gym sessions will work well for me. I have no excuse for not going- except for a slight knee injury, I am a-ok. Somehow LOST episodes, phone calls, and food always get in the way of my potential exercise dates with myself.
Life observation: The Peace Corps medical review is HARDDD HARD HARD.
I have been poked, prodded, shined on, interviewed, and given shots. I have gone to three doctors already and will go to a fourth on Monday. I have mountains of paperwork and mountains more to do. They check for every little thing, which, actually I like. I'd rather find out that I have a cavity here than in the middle of a rural village in Boliva.
But, I am over the shots and the blood and the needles. I don't want to be poked for a long time.
Life observation: If a rabbi tells me that I need to convert my boyfriend or "get rid of him," I need to find a new rabbi. A Gentile boyfriend is not vermin that you can get rid of with poison. He is, like everyone else, a living, breathing, human being. Orthodox Judaism may never accept it, but I'm becoming more and more clear that I could never be an Orthodox Jew. People should love each other for who they are- truth, love, and kindness should win out.
Life observation: UGHUGHUGH Whyy am I still living at home?
Life observation: I want to travel.
Life observation: This tiny room needs to get clean. And the GREs need to get studied for.
Life observation: Why is it 2:36 am?
I need to make a list of things to do. I need to sleep. I am making a Gesso salad for a potluck tomorrow, and it will be bangin. For those of you who don't know what a Gesso salad is, I'll fill you in next entry. I'm going to make Justin mix the salad, just so that I can say, "Baby, keep tossing my salad," and, "Justin tossed the salad tonight, so everyone thank him." Hehehe. I am 14.
So to conclude: things are good, they could be better, but everything is comfortably floating along in this abyss called life. Until next times, sweet dreams, buttercups.
Life observation: There ARE fantastic guys in the world. And, not all of them are foreign and/or Jewish! Or even fans of the city! I've met someone who "haings" with me, who can read my thoughts, who gets turned on by my stack of library books, and who can own a political conversation. I must have rescued a family of whales in my past life to get this lucky.
Life observation: The most interesting people at work are the old people and, like any other people, they are full of contradictions.
Take the former Peace Corps volunteer who bikes to work and listens to Rush Limbaugh. Or the potty mouthed teacher with the secret heart of gold. Or the creepy, rapey, Borderline personality weirdo who might, under it all, just be a scared man. Everyone I work with fascinates me- I love their stories, their lives, how they got to work here, and what crazy things I can get them to admit.
Life observation: I need to exercise more.
Also
Life observation: I am not in Europe anymore- thus, the Coke I drink goes to my stomach, it does not get magically walked off.
I need to move it move it. Maybe AM gym sessions will work well for me. I have no excuse for not going- except for a slight knee injury, I am a-ok. Somehow LOST episodes, phone calls, and food always get in the way of my potential exercise dates with myself.
Life observation: The Peace Corps medical review is HARDDD HARD HARD.
I have been poked, prodded, shined on, interviewed, and given shots. I have gone to three doctors already and will go to a fourth on Monday. I have mountains of paperwork and mountains more to do. They check for every little thing, which, actually I like. I'd rather find out that I have a cavity here than in the middle of a rural village in Boliva.
But, I am over the shots and the blood and the needles. I don't want to be poked for a long time.
Life observation: If a rabbi tells me that I need to convert my boyfriend or "get rid of him," I need to find a new rabbi. A Gentile boyfriend is not vermin that you can get rid of with poison. He is, like everyone else, a living, breathing, human being. Orthodox Judaism may never accept it, but I'm becoming more and more clear that I could never be an Orthodox Jew. People should love each other for who they are- truth, love, and kindness should win out.
Life observation: UGHUGHUGH Whyy am I still living at home?
Life observation: I want to travel.
Life observation: This tiny room needs to get clean. And the GREs need to get studied for.
Life observation: Why is it 2:36 am?
I need to make a list of things to do. I need to sleep. I am making a Gesso salad for a potluck tomorrow, and it will be bangin. For those of you who don't know what a Gesso salad is, I'll fill you in next entry. I'm going to make Justin mix the salad, just so that I can say, "Baby, keep tossing my salad," and, "Justin tossed the salad tonight, so everyone thank him." Hehehe. I am 14.
So to conclude: things are good, they could be better, but everything is comfortably floating along in this abyss called life. Until next times, sweet dreams, buttercups.
springtime in Silver Spring
I have a confession to make: I have never planned a successful birthday party. The last true "birthday party" I had involved pre-pubescent girls (and our one token guy friend) wearing gobs of glitter and dancing to Nsync and Backstreet Boys on my deck. I remember seeing 14 candles on the cake and knowing that I would have to heave in gobs of air to blow that many candles out.
Fast forward to 2010. For the first time since I could legally buy lottery tickets, I am in the throes of trying to gather a group together for my birthday. I have tried doing this in years past, but previous attempts have been thwarted by life's little details. Consider 2008, when a botched Facebook invite got sent out the DAY of my party. Ooops. Or 2009, when the invite got sent out three days before the big day.
My ADD and dislike of decision making has also traditionally slowed the party planning process. There are so many CONSIDERATIONS to make, like:
a) where to go
b) what to do
c) **most importantly** who to invite
After spending a solid week perusing Yelp, I have finally made invitations, sent out said invitations, and picked both a restaurant and a bar. This might seem really miniscule and not important to some of you, but to me this is a giant leap forward in becoming a real, competent person who can do real, competent things like get a bunch of people to a restaurant on a certain day for a certain birthday. This is the first birthday party to not involve goodie bags.
Second issue: the non-responders. The nonresponders seem to be comprised of a variety of people. The non-interested, the Facebook averse, and the unsure all seem to fall into this category. I think I will lurch them later on in the week. I could send them an email that says "Respond, non-responders!" or I could sit here and count them as "not coming." Hmmmph. From now on I am responding to all of my Facebook invites- be it "yay" or "nay." "Not responded" is the trickiest category yet.
Maybe this is people's passive aggressive way of telling me that they don't want to come. Or, maybe, some people are just Facebook averse. Or maybe it's both. Either way, I will deal kindly with the non-responders until mid-week next week. No need for quick assumptions or judgments. Hate and anger will only turn around to bite a chunk out of my behind. And, as many of you know, despite being Italian, I need all the behind I can get.
To sum up:
I have oodles of gratitude towards the respondants, and
I am working on my unWashingtonian patience skills by being kind to the responders, and
this party may be me and my boyfriend eating cheesecake in bethesda, or
it may be amazing.
Only time will tell.
Fast forward to 2010. For the first time since I could legally buy lottery tickets, I am in the throes of trying to gather a group together for my birthday. I have tried doing this in years past, but previous attempts have been thwarted by life's little details. Consider 2008, when a botched Facebook invite got sent out the DAY of my party. Ooops. Or 2009, when the invite got sent out three days before the big day.
My ADD and dislike of decision making has also traditionally slowed the party planning process. There are so many CONSIDERATIONS to make, like:
a) where to go
b) what to do
c) **most importantly** who to invite
After spending a solid week perusing Yelp, I have finally made invitations, sent out said invitations, and picked both a restaurant and a bar. This might seem really miniscule and not important to some of you, but to me this is a giant leap forward in becoming a real, competent person who can do real, competent things like get a bunch of people to a restaurant on a certain day for a certain birthday. This is the first birthday party to not involve goodie bags.
Second issue: the non-responders. The nonresponders seem to be comprised of a variety of people. The non-interested, the Facebook averse, and the unsure all seem to fall into this category. I think I will lurch them later on in the week. I could send them an email that says "Respond, non-responders!" or I could sit here and count them as "not coming." Hmmmph. From now on I am responding to all of my Facebook invites- be it "yay" or "nay." "Not responded" is the trickiest category yet.
Maybe this is people's passive aggressive way of telling me that they don't want to come. Or, maybe, some people are just Facebook averse. Or maybe it's both. Either way, I will deal kindly with the non-responders until mid-week next week. No need for quick assumptions or judgments. Hate and anger will only turn around to bite a chunk out of my behind. And, as many of you know, despite being Italian, I need all the behind I can get.
To sum up:
I have oodles of gratitude towards the respondants, and
I am working on my unWashingtonian patience skills by being kind to the responders, and
this party may be me and my boyfriend eating cheesecake in bethesda, or
it may be amazing.
Only time will tell.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
week in Tzfat
I spent a week hanging out in Tzfat after my little collision with the motorcycle. I was in a weeklong volutneer program called Livnot, and had little clue what to expect.
Getting there was an adventure. Luckily, a guy from Birthright was doing the Livnot trip as well. The night before we were supposed to arrive, we haphazardly decided we would meet at 11 am the next morning at the hostel and be on our way. Well. Eleven am came and Brandon was not there. I found out he was still sleeping off the effects of the night before! He woke up in a few minutes, got dressed, and we were on our way. We got to the Tel Aviv bus station and the told us to take the 1:30 bus from Tel Aviv to "Ohimini" and then from there, take a bus to Tzfat. We got on the right bus but could not for the life of us remember the name of the town we were supposed to get off in. I thought it sounded like "Rasputin" or "Rasmeena" or "Ohimini" so we asked people on the bus if they knew what we were talking about. No one did- not even the Israeli soldier who worked in the north! Finally, a girl on the bus said, "I think you want 'Rosh Pina.'" The Israeli soldier's eyes widened and he started laughing. "Rosh PINA! Of COURSE!" We got off the bus and saw a sign that said "Welcome to ROSH PINA" and then we felt dumb at not having been able to remember it. But Hebrew words, when you hear them and can't see them written down, are HARD to remember!
We hailed a taxi to Tzfat, and after lugging our suitcases through the rain, finally found the place we were supposed to be staying at. I immediately felt at ease. The madricha, or leader, gave us hot coffee and tea and warmly asked us how we were doing. We met the 6 other people in our group and I knew it was going to be a good week.
A good week it was. Tzfat is one of the four holy cities in Israel. It is the city of air, or mysticism. Because of this, it is situated in the mountains in the north of the country and when you look up at the mountains, you can see tufts of white clouds around them. You feel kind of light and airy in the town, which reminded me of a medieval Spanish town filled with exclusively Hasidic Jews. There are no bars; no one is on the streets after 10. It is filled with very religious Jews, their families, and...Livnot. Many artists come to the town and open up painting shops, pottery shops, weaving shops. Many eccentric Kabbalah worshippers come to the town to live, as it is the birthplace of the Kabbalah. I met a hippie couple from Berkely who were living in Tzfat for the Kabbalah.
During the week, we did a lot of awesome things.
We volunteered with Ethiopian kids in a school (fun fact: Israel has 100,000 Ethiopian Jews.) They spoke Amharic and Hebrew, I spoke English. Still, we played incessant tag with them, played songs with them on the guitar, and twirled them when they asked. They couldnt pronounce "Andrea" so they called me "injera" which is the name of Ethiopian bread. They also asked three of our girls if BJ was their "boyfriend." They were really into us dating him!
We went on an amazing day-long hike in the Golan Heights. We saw vultures encircling us overhead and visited the lost city of Gamla.
Gamla was an ancient, millenia old Jewish city that was destroyed by the Romans in 68 AD. It remained virtually lost and forgotten about until around 1970. You can still see the ancient walls and the spot where the Romans' battering ram destroyed the city's fortifications.
We also were given ample time to explore the city. We visited a market, where I a new fruit I had never heard of before: a persimmon. (
We became a part of the town for a week, visiting the Yemenite pizza man, the beautiful pottery shops around the village, and getting lost in the city's ancient streets.
Here are some pictures of Tzfat:
One of the most powerful parts of the week was the emphasis on spirtuality. The group was made up of all different types of Jews. We had a Hasidic leader, Eli (whose adorable toddler Zevi was our constant playmate); we had Orthodox madricha; we had conservative, reform, and secular Jews in our mix. It provoked some really thought provoking conversations, such as
-what is the role of Jews in the world?
-will our grandchildren be Jewish?
-how should we treat the Palestinians?
One thing I wanted to address was Israel's culture of denial when it comes to examining human rights abuses in the Occupied Territories. I was always given really brisk responses, such as "if the people in Gaza wanted peace they would get their act together," or "the Israeli military is hated no matter what they do." It frustrated me that there seems to be a very low level of tolerance among many Israelis for people in the Occupied Territories.
Besides that, the trip was a good time. We had the BEST Shabbat I've had in Israel. We went out to the balcony as the sun was setting over the mountains and sang songs and danced together (women with women, men with men). Then, we had a giant feast for Shabbat. Alumni of Livnot (it has been going on since the 70s!) came by for Shabbat so we had a group of about 50. We drank Israeli malt liquor (beer without alcohol, ew!!), ate the food that our group had spent the last DAY making. We had even breaded our own challah for the Shabbat! Everything was delicious, we spent hours talking, and everyone had a good time. During Shabbat, we werent allowed to turn lights on or off, because of a rule that says that you can't "start a fire" on Shabbat. No computers, Skype, lights, cooking, heating up water, nothing. The next day, we ate lunch at different peoples houses. I ate with our leader, Eli, his wife, Shoshi, their two friends, and their little son. Although I didn't know the prayers or the customs, they were so respectful and engaging. That night, we celebrated the end of Shabbat with the Havdallah. We went to a schul (temple) that was divided into the men's side and the women's side. On each side, people were DANCING. I mean mosh pit, all out, dancing. We grabbed each other's hands and spun around and around and around. We twirled and spun and jumped. I felt so united to everyone, so powerful, so proud to be a woman in that moment. We left soaked from sweat but euphoric.
In retrospect, I can't say the trip motivated me to be a religious Jew. It did motivate me to look deeper into what I want for myself, and to talk to people of different faiths with an open mind. I was always under the impression that Orthodox girls got married very early and couldn't work, yet I befriended two smart, funny Orthodox girls and found out that they were just like me. I definately hope to keep in touch with the people I met on the trip. I will always remember our incessant singing of Disney songs, the constant laughter, and the good times we had. Also one of our madricha, who is 20, just got ENGAGED so hopefully, we will all see each other soon.
Getting there was an adventure. Luckily, a guy from Birthright was doing the Livnot trip as well. The night before we were supposed to arrive, we haphazardly decided we would meet at 11 am the next morning at the hostel and be on our way. Well. Eleven am came and Brandon was not there. I found out he was still sleeping off the effects of the night before! He woke up in a few minutes, got dressed, and we were on our way. We got to the Tel Aviv bus station and the told us to take the 1:30 bus from Tel Aviv to "Ohimini" and then from there, take a bus to Tzfat. We got on the right bus but could not for the life of us remember the name of the town we were supposed to get off in. I thought it sounded like "Rasputin" or "Rasmeena" or "Ohimini" so we asked people on the bus if they knew what we were talking about. No one did- not even the Israeli soldier who worked in the north! Finally, a girl on the bus said, "I think you want 'Rosh Pina.'" The Israeli soldier's eyes widened and he started laughing. "Rosh PINA! Of COURSE!" We got off the bus and saw a sign that said "Welcome to ROSH PINA" and then we felt dumb at not having been able to remember it. But Hebrew words, when you hear them and can't see them written down, are HARD to remember!
We hailed a taxi to Tzfat, and after lugging our suitcases through the rain, finally found the place we were supposed to be staying at. I immediately felt at ease. The madricha, or leader, gave us hot coffee and tea and warmly asked us how we were doing. We met the 6 other people in our group and I knew it was going to be a good week.
A good week it was. Tzfat is one of the four holy cities in Israel. It is the city of air, or mysticism. Because of this, it is situated in the mountains in the north of the country and when you look up at the mountains, you can see tufts of white clouds around them. You feel kind of light and airy in the town, which reminded me of a medieval Spanish town filled with exclusively Hasidic Jews. There are no bars; no one is on the streets after 10. It is filled with very religious Jews, their families, and...Livnot. Many artists come to the town and open up painting shops, pottery shops, weaving shops. Many eccentric Kabbalah worshippers come to the town to live, as it is the birthplace of the Kabbalah. I met a hippie couple from Berkely who were living in Tzfat for the Kabbalah.
During the week, we did a lot of awesome things.
We volunteered with Ethiopian kids in a school (fun fact: Israel has 100,000 Ethiopian Jews.) They spoke Amharic and Hebrew, I spoke English. Still, we played incessant tag with them, played songs with them on the guitar, and twirled them when they asked. They couldnt pronounce "Andrea" so they called me "injera" which is the name of Ethiopian bread. They also asked three of our girls if BJ was their "boyfriend." They were really into us dating him!
We went on an amazing day-long hike in the Golan Heights. We saw vultures encircling us overhead and visited the lost city of Gamla.
Gamla was an ancient, millenia old Jewish city that was destroyed by the Romans in 68 AD. It remained virtually lost and forgotten about until around 1970. You can still see the ancient walls and the spot where the Romans' battering ram destroyed the city's fortifications.
We also were given ample time to explore the city. We visited a market, where I a new fruit I had never heard of before: a persimmon. (
We became a part of the town for a week, visiting the Yemenite pizza man, the beautiful pottery shops around the village, and getting lost in the city's ancient streets.
Here are some pictures of Tzfat:
One of the most powerful parts of the week was the emphasis on spirtuality. The group was made up of all different types of Jews. We had a Hasidic leader, Eli (whose adorable toddler Zevi was our constant playmate); we had Orthodox madricha; we had conservative, reform, and secular Jews in our mix. It provoked some really thought provoking conversations, such as
-what is the role of Jews in the world?
-will our grandchildren be Jewish?
-how should we treat the Palestinians?
One thing I wanted to address was Israel's culture of denial when it comes to examining human rights abuses in the Occupied Territories. I was always given really brisk responses, such as "if the people in Gaza wanted peace they would get their act together," or "the Israeli military is hated no matter what they do." It frustrated me that there seems to be a very low level of tolerance among many Israelis for people in the Occupied Territories.
Besides that, the trip was a good time. We had the BEST Shabbat I've had in Israel. We went out to the balcony as the sun was setting over the mountains and sang songs and danced together (women with women, men with men). Then, we had a giant feast for Shabbat. Alumni of Livnot (it has been going on since the 70s!) came by for Shabbat so we had a group of about 50. We drank Israeli malt liquor (beer without alcohol, ew!!), ate the food that our group had spent the last DAY making. We had even breaded our own challah for the Shabbat! Everything was delicious, we spent hours talking, and everyone had a good time. During Shabbat, we werent allowed to turn lights on or off, because of a rule that says that you can't "start a fire" on Shabbat. No computers, Skype, lights, cooking, heating up water, nothing. The next day, we ate lunch at different peoples houses. I ate with our leader, Eli, his wife, Shoshi, their two friends, and their little son. Although I didn't know the prayers or the customs, they were so respectful and engaging. That night, we celebrated the end of Shabbat with the Havdallah. We went to a schul (temple) that was divided into the men's side and the women's side. On each side, people were DANCING. I mean mosh pit, all out, dancing. We grabbed each other's hands and spun around and around and around. We twirled and spun and jumped. I felt so united to everyone, so powerful, so proud to be a woman in that moment. We left soaked from sweat but euphoric.
In retrospect, I can't say the trip motivated me to be a religious Jew. It did motivate me to look deeper into what I want for myself, and to talk to people of different faiths with an open mind. I was always under the impression that Orthodox girls got married very early and couldn't work, yet I befriended two smart, funny Orthodox girls and found out that they were just like me. I definately hope to keep in touch with the people I met on the trip. I will always remember our incessant singing of Disney songs, the constant laughter, and the good times we had. Also one of our madricha, who is 20, just got ENGAGED so hopefully, we will all see each other soon.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The weekend after Birthright, or, how i got hit by a motorcycle
OK so I am home. I am very behind on my postings but I do want to let you all know how the end of the trip went. I envision this being a blog that I can use to write about life- my traveling life, the nontraveling, mundane, suburban Maryland life, all of it. But I digress; I am going to finish writing about the trip.
So the day after Birthright, Ilya and I traveled to Jerusalem. Interesting fact about Jeruslaem: Jews pronounce it "Yirousalyim." "Yeh-roos-ah-lai-em." A famous song about Jerusalem is by Naomi Shemer, who wrote "Yirosalyim Shel Zahar," or "Jerusalem, city of gold," a few weeks before the 1967 war against Syria. Israeli paratroopers sang the song as the landed on Jerusalem. It was after the 1967 war, the Six Day War, that the Jewish people had control of Jerusalem once more. Pretty crazy, especially when you consider that ever since the temple fell in 70 AD, the Jews have prayed for Jerusalem to be their holy city. After almost 2000 years, they now control Jersualem. It is pretty cool that the Jews can finally roam freely in Jersualem and visit the kotel. It's what our great-great-great-great-great grandfathers prayed for; to see the Holy Land. And now it is completely accessible.
Ilya and I spent the day wandering in the markets in Jerusalem, through the Jewish, the Christian, and the Muslim quarters. Birthright wouldn't let us go to the Muslim quarter, but we had been told from the soldiers that they had the best hummus and that we would be fine, so we went in. We were blissful that we didn't have to be on a bus, with a micromanaged, tightly packed schedule that began at 7am and ended at 10 pm, so we just spent the day seeing the sights leisurely. We almost took a wrong turn in the Old City that would've led us into Temple MOunt, but a bunch of Arabs shouted, "No! No! Not for you!"
One of the murkiest and hardest problems to solve in the Arab-Jewish conflict is the issue of Temple Mount. Here are the sides:
Before 70 AD, all Jews lived in Israel. They prayed at the Temple, an enormous synagouge which was built at the site where God asked Abraham to sacrifice Issac, and where God established a covenant with Abraham. This is the site where both monotheism and Judaism started- over 4,000 years ago. It is the holiest site to a Jew. So what happened to the Temple? It was destroyed, for a second and so-far final time, by the Romans in 70 ad. The Romans had raised taxes for Jews and prevented them from doing certain types of work, and the Jews organized a massive revolt. The Romans sent thousands and thousands of soldiers into Jerusalem to show them who was boss. They completely destroyed the temple. Reports say there was blood everywhere. So many slaves were taken in that day taht the price of slaves dropped throughout the empire. So much gold was taken from the Jews that the price of gold dropped throughout the empire. For the Jews, it was utter devastation. Their point of unification, the Temple, was now gone. And this is where the Jewish diaspora started. This is the reason there are Jews all over the world, instead of all of them living in Israel.
That is the Jewish side.
THe Muslim side: Muslims don't believe that Abraham was asked by God to sacrifice Issac. THey believe God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son Ishmael, by his maidservant Hagar. Ishmael is considered to be the father of the Muslims. Muslims believe that Mohammed ascended into heaven from Temple Mount, the exact same spot where the Temple was, and the same spot where Jews believe God established a covenant with Abraham and the Jewish people.
The Temple Mount is beautiful; it is a gold dome that sticks out from any overview of Jerusalem. It is a holy site to Muslims and Jews. Non-Muslims are not allowed to enter Temple Mount. Tensions are so high over this subject that when the Israeli prime minister, Ariel Sharon, a Jew, entered Temple Mount in 1998, it set off the second intifada because Muslims were so enraged at (they felt) his desecration of their holy site.
Here is the problem for JEws: the Jews want to rebuild the Temple, to reunify all the Jews again. However, to rebuild the temple, they would have to destroy Temple Mount. So these two beautiful religions are at odds with each other- the Jews cant rebuild their temple within destroying the sacred Muslim site, and by not permitting non-Muslims to enter the Mount, the Muslims are denying Jews a chance to visit their most holy site. So there is a peace, a tenuous peace, but tensions are always high over this extremely heated issue.
So Jerusalem was fun, although we slept in a pretty not-amazing hostel, with a shower that had no curtain and a toilet that made loud noises for 20 minutes after it was flushed.
The next day, we met Ilya's brother and his girlfriend Andrea (!) who were both really nice. We boarded a bus and went to Tel Aviv. It was a perfect day: 75 degrees, sunny, and no wind. Ilya's brother, who lived in Tel Aviv (his internship ended so now he is back home), was nice enough to let me use the Internet at his house so I could find a hostel. Coming to TEl Aviv, I was wildly unprepared: I hadnt booked a hostel, and I didn't know much about the city except that it was full of culture, art, gays, and a beautiful Mediterannean beach. I found a cute hostel in my lonely planet book called Momo's Hostel (fyi: Momo is a Romanian nickname, which is fitting because many Romanians worked there). Promising to meet up with Ilya and his brother later, I departed in a taxi for Momo's.
I got to Momo's, on Ben Yehuda street, and immediately felt at ease. The hostel was filled with funky hippies, wayward souls, people right off of Birthright, musicians, a Norwegian guy who had just hiked Israel from North to South, a 20 year old Australian who just made aaliyah and pronounced everything "amaayyyzing", and nice hostel workers. I went to my room, which was filled with purple-sheeted bunkbeds, rainbow colored curtains, and a balcony that overlooked the busy street below.
I decided to explore the city and get lunch so I headed over to Bogershav street. I sat in the sun and read Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" while drinking the Israeli interpretation of a strawberry smoothie. I watched people walking by: fashionable young couples, families with young children, bewildered tourists in backpacks looking for a quiet place to eat. I saw a clothing store called "Bee Yourself" on the other side of the street, and decided to check it out.
I waited for two minutes at the pedestrian crosswalk as cars kept flying by. In America, typically, when a person is standing in a pedestrian crosswalk, cars STOP for the person so that they can cross. Not in Israel. They appear to be merely white lines painted across the street. The only time a car will stop for you is if you physically start walking yourself across the street. So after two minutes of sweating in the sun, waiting for the cars to stop, I took a big step and started walking.
I took about two more steps and felt an immense pain on the left side of my head. I fell to the ground and realized I had been hit by something. I saw a motorcycle slowing down about 10 yards in front of me and circle back and realized that the driver must've hit me. I got up, shaken, and see two guys gaping at me on the side of the road. They ask me in English, "Are you ok?" and I immediately start crying and shaking uncontrollably. Two women appear. One gives me juice and a hug, and strokes my back saying "It'll be alright". The driver comes over, and they all point to the pedestrian crosswalk and yell at him in Hebrew. One of them calls an ambulance, one leaves, and the two guys remaining (I was getting slight ghey vibes, and it is they ghey capital of the Middle East, but one can never be sure) stayed with me until the ambulance came. THey tried to make me laugh and calm me down until the ambulance got there. THen, they handed me a piece of paper with their numbers on it, and the contact information and license plate of the guy who hit me. They told me to call them if I needed anything and were off. YAY for nice people who help strangers.
The hospital was an experience. I had a very efficient and intelligent male doctor who made me go to the plastic surgeon to get stitches (EIGHT!) to cover up the gash on the left side of my face. I went to an orthopedic surgeon to make sure that the fluid in my left knee and thigh was not permanent damage (it wasn't). The annoying thing was that all the nurses and doctors were talking aroudn me in rapid Hebrew and I didn't understand a thing. WHen I was waiting in line for the orthopedic surgeon, they called out for me in Hebrew, but since I don't speak it, I missed what they said. Then I heard "ekrlaejkejfklj ANDREA fjdkaflj;daklfj;dl" in a loud angry voice on the loudspeaker, and realized they were summoning me. Not knowing what is going around you, what the doctors are saying, is really really hard to deal with. You feel like you are this chess piece they can do anything with. I was lucky to be in Israel though- they have amazing health care.
As I was leaving, I had to fill information out for the financial lady. She wanted contact information in Israel so in case I didn't pay my hospital bill, for 900 sheckels (300 dollars), she would have someone to harass. I tried explaining that I have ONE cousin in Israel but didnt have her number on me and she did not like that very much. I tried explaining to her that my US health insurance covered emergency situations such as this one, AND that the guy who hit me would have to pay my bill with his insurance anyways, but she didnt listen. She regarded me liek this floozy American tourist who was trying to rip Israel's medical system off. She was very annoying but I kept my cool and smiled. Honestly, escaping with some stitches and some bruises means I was very lucky. I didnt have a concussion, I didn't have broken bones or permanent damage. I was very, very lucky, so dealing with her didn't ruffle my feathers too much.
I hailed a taxi, went back to Momo's, called Ilya and met him, his brother, and some friends a few streets away. We went to a SPANISH bar that had LEGS OF JAMON on the wall. I felt like I was back in Sevilla. We bought champagne and took the plastic glasses out on the streets, where we talked. A drunk guy came up to us and asked if he could hang out with us for five minutes because the cops were chasing him and he wanted to hide so we said sure. He was gone in about two minutes. I met tons of AMericans who were in Israel working, interning, or volunteering. I can see why an American would like TEl Aviv- there are palm trees everywhere, it is warm for most of the year, even in their "winter," there is art and liberal people anda great bar scene. It's a completely different feel than religious Jerusalem. I did see a Hasidic Jew on roller skates pushing a carriage and then saw two gay guys holding hands. That combination would NOT happen in Jerusalem!
So the day after Birthright, Ilya and I traveled to Jerusalem. Interesting fact about Jeruslaem: Jews pronounce it "Yirousalyim." "Yeh-roos-ah-lai-em." A famous song about Jerusalem is by Naomi Shemer, who wrote "Yirosalyim Shel Zahar," or "Jerusalem, city of gold," a few weeks before the 1967 war against Syria. Israeli paratroopers sang the song as the landed on Jerusalem. It was after the 1967 war, the Six Day War, that the Jewish people had control of Jerusalem once more. Pretty crazy, especially when you consider that ever since the temple fell in 70 AD, the Jews have prayed for Jerusalem to be their holy city. After almost 2000 years, they now control Jersualem. It is pretty cool that the Jews can finally roam freely in Jersualem and visit the kotel. It's what our great-great-great-great-great grandfathers prayed for; to see the Holy Land. And now it is completely accessible.
Ilya and I spent the day wandering in the markets in Jerusalem, through the Jewish, the Christian, and the Muslim quarters. Birthright wouldn't let us go to the Muslim quarter, but we had been told from the soldiers that they had the best hummus and that we would be fine, so we went in. We were blissful that we didn't have to be on a bus, with a micromanaged, tightly packed schedule that began at 7am and ended at 10 pm, so we just spent the day seeing the sights leisurely. We almost took a wrong turn in the Old City that would've led us into Temple MOunt, but a bunch of Arabs shouted, "No! No! Not for you!"
One of the murkiest and hardest problems to solve in the Arab-Jewish conflict is the issue of Temple Mount. Here are the sides:
Before 70 AD, all Jews lived in Israel. They prayed at the Temple, an enormous synagouge which was built at the site where God asked Abraham to sacrifice Issac, and where God established a covenant with Abraham. This is the site where both monotheism and Judaism started- over 4,000 years ago. It is the holiest site to a Jew. So what happened to the Temple? It was destroyed, for a second and so-far final time, by the Romans in 70 ad. The Romans had raised taxes for Jews and prevented them from doing certain types of work, and the Jews organized a massive revolt. The Romans sent thousands and thousands of soldiers into Jerusalem to show them who was boss. They completely destroyed the temple. Reports say there was blood everywhere. So many slaves were taken in that day taht the price of slaves dropped throughout the empire. So much gold was taken from the Jews that the price of gold dropped throughout the empire. For the Jews, it was utter devastation. Their point of unification, the Temple, was now gone. And this is where the Jewish diaspora started. This is the reason there are Jews all over the world, instead of all of them living in Israel.
That is the Jewish side.
THe Muslim side: Muslims don't believe that Abraham was asked by God to sacrifice Issac. THey believe God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son Ishmael, by his maidservant Hagar. Ishmael is considered to be the father of the Muslims. Muslims believe that Mohammed ascended into heaven from Temple Mount, the exact same spot where the Temple was, and the same spot where Jews believe God established a covenant with Abraham and the Jewish people.
The Temple Mount is beautiful; it is a gold dome that sticks out from any overview of Jerusalem. It is a holy site to Muslims and Jews. Non-Muslims are not allowed to enter Temple Mount. Tensions are so high over this subject that when the Israeli prime minister, Ariel Sharon, a Jew, entered Temple Mount in 1998, it set off the second intifada because Muslims were so enraged at (they felt) his desecration of their holy site.
Here is the problem for JEws: the Jews want to rebuild the Temple, to reunify all the Jews again. However, to rebuild the temple, they would have to destroy Temple Mount. So these two beautiful religions are at odds with each other- the Jews cant rebuild their temple within destroying the sacred Muslim site, and by not permitting non-Muslims to enter the Mount, the Muslims are denying Jews a chance to visit their most holy site. So there is a peace, a tenuous peace, but tensions are always high over this extremely heated issue.
So Jerusalem was fun, although we slept in a pretty not-amazing hostel, with a shower that had no curtain and a toilet that made loud noises for 20 minutes after it was flushed.
The next day, we met Ilya's brother and his girlfriend Andrea (!) who were both really nice. We boarded a bus and went to Tel Aviv. It was a perfect day: 75 degrees, sunny, and no wind. Ilya's brother, who lived in Tel Aviv (his internship ended so now he is back home), was nice enough to let me use the Internet at his house so I could find a hostel. Coming to TEl Aviv, I was wildly unprepared: I hadnt booked a hostel, and I didn't know much about the city except that it was full of culture, art, gays, and a beautiful Mediterannean beach. I found a cute hostel in my lonely planet book called Momo's Hostel (fyi: Momo is a Romanian nickname, which is fitting because many Romanians worked there). Promising to meet up with Ilya and his brother later, I departed in a taxi for Momo's.
I got to Momo's, on Ben Yehuda street, and immediately felt at ease. The hostel was filled with funky hippies, wayward souls, people right off of Birthright, musicians, a Norwegian guy who had just hiked Israel from North to South, a 20 year old Australian who just made aaliyah and pronounced everything "amaayyyzing", and nice hostel workers. I went to my room, which was filled with purple-sheeted bunkbeds, rainbow colored curtains, and a balcony that overlooked the busy street below.
I decided to explore the city and get lunch so I headed over to Bogershav street. I sat in the sun and read Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" while drinking the Israeli interpretation of a strawberry smoothie. I watched people walking by: fashionable young couples, families with young children, bewildered tourists in backpacks looking for a quiet place to eat. I saw a clothing store called "Bee Yourself" on the other side of the street, and decided to check it out.
I waited for two minutes at the pedestrian crosswalk as cars kept flying by. In America, typically, when a person is standing in a pedestrian crosswalk, cars STOP for the person so that they can cross. Not in Israel. They appear to be merely white lines painted across the street. The only time a car will stop for you is if you physically start walking yourself across the street. So after two minutes of sweating in the sun, waiting for the cars to stop, I took a big step and started walking.
I took about two more steps and felt an immense pain on the left side of my head. I fell to the ground and realized I had been hit by something. I saw a motorcycle slowing down about 10 yards in front of me and circle back and realized that the driver must've hit me. I got up, shaken, and see two guys gaping at me on the side of the road. They ask me in English, "Are you ok?" and I immediately start crying and shaking uncontrollably. Two women appear. One gives me juice and a hug, and strokes my back saying "It'll be alright". The driver comes over, and they all point to the pedestrian crosswalk and yell at him in Hebrew. One of them calls an ambulance, one leaves, and the two guys remaining (I was getting slight ghey vibes, and it is they ghey capital of the Middle East, but one can never be sure) stayed with me until the ambulance came. THey tried to make me laugh and calm me down until the ambulance got there. THen, they handed me a piece of paper with their numbers on it, and the contact information and license plate of the guy who hit me. They told me to call them if I needed anything and were off. YAY for nice people who help strangers.
The hospital was an experience. I had a very efficient and intelligent male doctor who made me go to the plastic surgeon to get stitches (EIGHT!) to cover up the gash on the left side of my face. I went to an orthopedic surgeon to make sure that the fluid in my left knee and thigh was not permanent damage (it wasn't). The annoying thing was that all the nurses and doctors were talking aroudn me in rapid Hebrew and I didn't understand a thing. WHen I was waiting in line for the orthopedic surgeon, they called out for me in Hebrew, but since I don't speak it, I missed what they said. Then I heard "ekrlaejkejfklj ANDREA fjdkaflj;daklfj;dl" in a loud angry voice on the loudspeaker, and realized they were summoning me. Not knowing what is going around you, what the doctors are saying, is really really hard to deal with. You feel like you are this chess piece they can do anything with. I was lucky to be in Israel though- they have amazing health care.
As I was leaving, I had to fill information out for the financial lady. She wanted contact information in Israel so in case I didn't pay my hospital bill, for 900 sheckels (300 dollars), she would have someone to harass. I tried explaining that I have ONE cousin in Israel but didnt have her number on me and she did not like that very much. I tried explaining to her that my US health insurance covered emergency situations such as this one, AND that the guy who hit me would have to pay my bill with his insurance anyways, but she didnt listen. She regarded me liek this floozy American tourist who was trying to rip Israel's medical system off. She was very annoying but I kept my cool and smiled. Honestly, escaping with some stitches and some bruises means I was very lucky. I didnt have a concussion, I didn't have broken bones or permanent damage. I was very, very lucky, so dealing with her didn't ruffle my feathers too much.
I hailed a taxi, went back to Momo's, called Ilya and met him, his brother, and some friends a few streets away. We went to a SPANISH bar that had LEGS OF JAMON on the wall. I felt like I was back in Sevilla. We bought champagne and took the plastic glasses out on the streets, where we talked. A drunk guy came up to us and asked if he could hang out with us for five minutes because the cops were chasing him and he wanted to hide so we said sure. He was gone in about two minutes. I met tons of AMericans who were in Israel working, interning, or volunteering. I can see why an American would like TEl Aviv- there are palm trees everywhere, it is warm for most of the year, even in their "winter," there is art and liberal people anda great bar scene. It's a completely different feel than religious Jerusalem. I did see a Hasidic Jew on roller skates pushing a carriage and then saw two gay guys holding hands. That combination would NOT happen in Jerusalem!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The rest of Birthright was a blur. One sad thing that happened was that I ended up getting really sick from all of the exhausting traveling we were doing. Congested and tired, I lugged myself from place to place with the rest of the group. We saw some cool stuff on the last few days: we went to a military cemetary in Jerusalem, where we saw the graves of people who died from the first Lebanon war, the independence war, and the more recent conflicts. Seeeing the soldiers' graves from the second Lebanon War in 2006 was really sad. They were really decorated- some had freshly picked flowers, some were adorned with pictures and keepsakes, and they were generally well-looked after. Those kids were 18 or 19 or 20- and it's clear that 4 years after the conflict, the parents are still incredibly affected by the conflict. I can't imagine losing a friend or a sister that early on. It really hit home, knowing how young they were and how much they had left to offer.
The trip ended pretty briskly. I didn't realize until the actual airport that most of the people on the trip were leaving, permanently. The people I became friends with on the trip were so diverse and different from me- Midwesterners, law students, grad students, poets, dreamers and realists- and I hope we all stay in touch. Talking to the grad students made me want to go back to grad school. Being in contact with people two and three years older- people with rent and real person jobs and even spouses made me a little more ready for growing up. There is a difference between the 22 and the 25 year olds. The 22 year olds- Hillary, Jessi, and myself- all graduated in a really tough economic year and have spent the time since graduation perpetually seeking meaning, employment, and to find the elusive Nest Step. The older kids told us that it will all work out, and I believe them- the first year out is the most shocking and the hardest to get used to. I can't wait to live with friends and teach English in another country and go back to grad school and ride a bike around the city and get moving on life. At the same time I feel this great reluctance to grow up- this tug between the desire to be a kdi and the desire to be a big important Real Person. Maybe life is about wrestling a balance between the kid and the adult.
The day after the program, my Russian biochemist friend Ilya and I went to Jerusalem. We stayed at the Jaffa Gate Hostel, which is in an amazing location but is an incredibly crappy hostel. Our room was in absolute darnkness, the toilet made this loud draining noise for 20 minutes after it was flushed, and we were given one measly thin blanket for the wintry night. The people in the hostel were fun though- I met Sevillanos taking shots of whiskey the first night Typical!
Ilya and I tried to sleep in but both wound up wide awake at 8am- Birthright conditioned us well to rise early. We wandered around the Old City, walking through the Christian quarter of the market. We went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and saw where Jesus was crucified. I felt a great sadness and reverence for this gentle man who only wanted peace and love. My relationship to Jesus is constantly changing- I know he was special, but is he divine? That I don't know. But it was a very beautiful and sad church, and to see the actual crucifiction spot was astounding. We reverse walked the Via Dolorosa- Jesus' march from where Pontius Pilate sentenced him to death to the spot of his crucifiction. It was an uphill walk, and to think that he did it after being tortured and beaten, and with a giant wooden cross on his back, is insane.
For lunch, we went to the Arabic quarter and sat down for two hours, drinking mint tea and talking about life. Birthright wouldn't let us go into the Arabic quarter but I really liked it- especially the tea. Everywhere in the Arabic quarter, there are posters from 1929 that say "PALESTINE: A paradise." I guess the Brits used the posters for tourism back in the day. They are everywhere, and it's clear that to the Arabs, Palestine was rightfully theirs, a beautiful paradise that was stolen in the 40s when Israel became a nation. There really is no easy solution to the problem- do we give Jersualem back to the Arabs? No way! They would want the entire country before they are happy. I think the Jews need a homeland- we've been pushed around and killed and persecuted for thousands of years. But what can we do to bring lasting peace? And would each sides recognize it? I'm glad that Arabs, Christians, and Jews can all live in Jerusalem in relative peace. Jews can't go up to Temple Mount though which is sad because it's beautiful. Apparently the second intifada in 2000 started because Ariel Sharon, the Jewish prime minister of Israel, went up to Temple Mount. Just by entering the Mount he ignited a war. It's crazy how delicate the peace is between the three groups in Jersualem, the holiest city in the world to Jews and Christians and the third holiest to Muslims.
I will write more later. I've tried Skyping people, but I just realized that while it's 2:42 here, it's 7:42 am there. OOoooooopsss.
Love love,
A
The trip ended pretty briskly. I didn't realize until the actual airport that most of the people on the trip were leaving, permanently. The people I became friends with on the trip were so diverse and different from me- Midwesterners, law students, grad students, poets, dreamers and realists- and I hope we all stay in touch. Talking to the grad students made me want to go back to grad school. Being in contact with people two and three years older- people with rent and real person jobs and even spouses made me a little more ready for growing up. There is a difference between the 22 and the 25 year olds. The 22 year olds- Hillary, Jessi, and myself- all graduated in a really tough economic year and have spent the time since graduation perpetually seeking meaning, employment, and to find the elusive Nest Step. The older kids told us that it will all work out, and I believe them- the first year out is the most shocking and the hardest to get used to. I can't wait to live with friends and teach English in another country and go back to grad school and ride a bike around the city and get moving on life. At the same time I feel this great reluctance to grow up- this tug between the desire to be a kdi and the desire to be a big important Real Person. Maybe life is about wrestling a balance between the kid and the adult.
The day after the program, my Russian biochemist friend Ilya and I went to Jerusalem. We stayed at the Jaffa Gate Hostel, which is in an amazing location but is an incredibly crappy hostel. Our room was in absolute darnkness, the toilet made this loud draining noise for 20 minutes after it was flushed, and we were given one measly thin blanket for the wintry night. The people in the hostel were fun though- I met Sevillanos taking shots of whiskey the first night Typical!
Ilya and I tried to sleep in but both wound up wide awake at 8am- Birthright conditioned us well to rise early. We wandered around the Old City, walking through the Christian quarter of the market. We went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and saw where Jesus was crucified. I felt a great sadness and reverence for this gentle man who only wanted peace and love. My relationship to Jesus is constantly changing- I know he was special, but is he divine? That I don't know. But it was a very beautiful and sad church, and to see the actual crucifiction spot was astounding. We reverse walked the Via Dolorosa- Jesus' march from where Pontius Pilate sentenced him to death to the spot of his crucifiction. It was an uphill walk, and to think that he did it after being tortured and beaten, and with a giant wooden cross on his back, is insane.
For lunch, we went to the Arabic quarter and sat down for two hours, drinking mint tea and talking about life. Birthright wouldn't let us go into the Arabic quarter but I really liked it- especially the tea. Everywhere in the Arabic quarter, there are posters from 1929 that say "PALESTINE: A paradise." I guess the Brits used the posters for tourism back in the day. They are everywhere, and it's clear that to the Arabs, Palestine was rightfully theirs, a beautiful paradise that was stolen in the 40s when Israel became a nation. There really is no easy solution to the problem- do we give Jersualem back to the Arabs? No way! They would want the entire country before they are happy. I think the Jews need a homeland- we've been pushed around and killed and persecuted for thousands of years. But what can we do to bring lasting peace? And would each sides recognize it? I'm glad that Arabs, Christians, and Jews can all live in Jerusalem in relative peace. Jews can't go up to Temple Mount though which is sad because it's beautiful. Apparently the second intifada in 2000 started because Ariel Sharon, the Jewish prime minister of Israel, went up to Temple Mount. Just by entering the Mount he ignited a war. It's crazy how delicate the peace is between the three groups in Jersualem, the holiest city in the world to Jews and Christians and the third holiest to Muslims.
I will write more later. I've tried Skyping people, but I just realized that while it's 2:42 here, it's 7:42 am there. OOoooooopsss.
Love love,
A
Sunday, January 24, 2010
So much has happened since my last post. The last four days of Birthright were a blur. Birthright in general felt like a fast current, one you couldn't escape from. Wake up calls at 7am. Nights that lasted til 2 or 3am. No sleep, one bus that you spent hours on a day, the same 46 faces who you see every day. People become unveiled to you, and I was really surprised by how quickly I got to know- really know- people. I also ended up very sick at the end of the program- my body was aching and tired and I had a bad cough, but still had to get up early every morning and do what the group was doing. In the last four days of Birthright we:
-went to the desert, the Negev. The Jews became a people in the desert, and I was awestruck by how beautiful the area was. It was very rocky, unlike the Morocco desert, which is full of finely grained sand. We rode camels (and some of us rode donkeys) into the sunset. Halley and I had a camel that Zach dubbed "the belle of the ball." She really was very pretty- she had long coquettish camel eyelashes and light skin. Cammy, as I called her, was very calm. All the camels followed eachother in a line, and when the leader stopped the camel line, the camel behind us came about an inch from my face! I couldnt help thinking about his big camel teeth and how easily they could sink into my leg. But camels are very chill- as long as you don't get up in their face and bother them, they won't hurt you. One of the funniest moments of the camel riding experience was when I looked up and saw Jason, sitting contentedly on his camel while lighting up a cigarette. That boy never stops smoking.
We stayed in a Bedouin tent and met local Bedouins. The Bedouins are the people of the desert. They live anywhere there is a desert in the Middle East region- I met some in Morocco and they were very similar to the ones I met in Israel. The Bedouins in Israel used to be a nomadic people who wandered the desert and moved their homes from place to place, but the Israeli government encourages them to settle down in one place permanently. So, although we stayed in a tent, many of the Bedouins had actual houses nearby. Our host sat our group down, served us the most addictive tea of my life, and played us traditional Bedouin music on his guitar-like instrument. He was fantastic. Apparently he traveled throughout the world playing his Bedouin music. His strumming and his rythym were awesome and the combination of the tea and the music put me in a nice trance. Then, Bedouin dinner. Under tents, we sat in groups of 5 on cushions and were served a feast- beef, chicken, pita, vegetables, rice. We ate everything with our hands and were served seconds, thirds, and fourths- Bedouin hospitality is something they take very seriously.
After dinner it started to pour, and right as it started to pour Jessi asked me if I'd go with her to the bathroom, which was about 400 yards away from our tent. There were about three tents of Birthright groups staying at the camp that night, and the bathroom was the farthest from our tent. It started to POUR as we reached the bathroom. When we left the bathroom, it was so cold and raining so hard I could barely see her running in front of me. We got rapidly disoriented and ran in circles for a while, until we found the camel den, which was right next to our tent. Completely soaked, we walked in to the tent. Five minutes later, all the power in the camp went out, so we played a game with flashlights until it came back on. Exhausted, I fell asleep at 9pm, passed out on the sleeping back in the heated tent.
The next day, we woke up to sad news. Masada, one of the most important monuments in Judaism, (here thousands of Jews committed suicide to avoid being captured by the Romans in 70 AD after the temple was destroyed) was completely impossible to get to because all of the roads were flooded. Apparently, the Negev had not gotten that much rain in five years. There was so much rain that flash floods had formed in the desert. There were newly formed temporary waterfalls and streams that the past night's rain had created, which completely shifted the sand formations. Six of our students got Bar and Bat Mitvahed in the desert, and afterwards we threw candy at them and sang songs and danced to celebrate their emergence to adulthood. Dring breakfast, George, Lee, Brandon, Josh and I could drank four cups (!!) of the Bedouin tea, which was incredibly addictive. We had a drink-off- even though we weren't thirsty, the tea was so good we kept having to get up and drink more.
We went to the Dead Sea- luckily, the road to the Dead Sea was still open. The Dead Sea is the lowest point on Earth- and the salinity in the Dead Sea is 10 times saltier than regular ocean water. We ended up being the only people at the Dead Sea, because all of the roads, except the one we took, were blocked. We got in to the Dead Sea, which is aquamarine, and the second you get on your back you float! And once you start floating, getting upright on your feet is very, very hard. I plopped down on my stomach and without doing anything, I was floating above water. Swimming freestyle in the Dead Sea was really fun- you feel almost as if you are flying. Then, we got out, smeared mud all over our bodies, let it dry in the sun. Once we were caked in mud, we got back in, and reached down to the Dead Sea bottom to get the salt rocks out. We smeared sea salt all over our bodies to get the mud off and my skin was as smooth as silk afterwards. I felt like I had just left a fancy spa, I felt so smooth. It was a great end to a sad opening day.
The rest of the trip is a little more hazy. We went to a kibbutz that functioned as a secret factory during the war of independence. A group of people who were quite young- about 18-21 years old, formed a plan to make a bullet factory under the laundry room of their kibbutz, in an area streaming with Brits, who controlled the country before the independence war. Many people on their kibbutz didn't even know about the secret bullet-making operation that was going on. The bullets they made (and they were never found out) helped the Jews win the war of independence in 1948. Those kids risked their lives for this pipe dream of Jewish independence. It was a cool factory.
I am quite quite tired but will write more tomorrow. Birthright is over but there is much more to say.
Love love,
A
-went to the desert, the Negev. The Jews became a people in the desert, and I was awestruck by how beautiful the area was. It was very rocky, unlike the Morocco desert, which is full of finely grained sand. We rode camels (and some of us rode donkeys) into the sunset. Halley and I had a camel that Zach dubbed "the belle of the ball." She really was very pretty- she had long coquettish camel eyelashes and light skin. Cammy, as I called her, was very calm. All the camels followed eachother in a line, and when the leader stopped the camel line, the camel behind us came about an inch from my face! I couldnt help thinking about his big camel teeth and how easily they could sink into my leg. But camels are very chill- as long as you don't get up in their face and bother them, they won't hurt you. One of the funniest moments of the camel riding experience was when I looked up and saw Jason, sitting contentedly on his camel while lighting up a cigarette. That boy never stops smoking.
We stayed in a Bedouin tent and met local Bedouins. The Bedouins are the people of the desert. They live anywhere there is a desert in the Middle East region- I met some in Morocco and they were very similar to the ones I met in Israel. The Bedouins in Israel used to be a nomadic people who wandered the desert and moved their homes from place to place, but the Israeli government encourages them to settle down in one place permanently. So, although we stayed in a tent, many of the Bedouins had actual houses nearby. Our host sat our group down, served us the most addictive tea of my life, and played us traditional Bedouin music on his guitar-like instrument. He was fantastic. Apparently he traveled throughout the world playing his Bedouin music. His strumming and his rythym were awesome and the combination of the tea and the music put me in a nice trance. Then, Bedouin dinner. Under tents, we sat in groups of 5 on cushions and were served a feast- beef, chicken, pita, vegetables, rice. We ate everything with our hands and were served seconds, thirds, and fourths- Bedouin hospitality is something they take very seriously.
After dinner it started to pour, and right as it started to pour Jessi asked me if I'd go with her to the bathroom, which was about 400 yards away from our tent. There were about three tents of Birthright groups staying at the camp that night, and the bathroom was the farthest from our tent. It started to POUR as we reached the bathroom. When we left the bathroom, it was so cold and raining so hard I could barely see her running in front of me. We got rapidly disoriented and ran in circles for a while, until we found the camel den, which was right next to our tent. Completely soaked, we walked in to the tent. Five minutes later, all the power in the camp went out, so we played a game with flashlights until it came back on. Exhausted, I fell asleep at 9pm, passed out on the sleeping back in the heated tent.
The next day, we woke up to sad news. Masada, one of the most important monuments in Judaism, (here thousands of Jews committed suicide to avoid being captured by the Romans in 70 AD after the temple was destroyed) was completely impossible to get to because all of the roads were flooded. Apparently, the Negev had not gotten that much rain in five years. There was so much rain that flash floods had formed in the desert. There were newly formed temporary waterfalls and streams that the past night's rain had created, which completely shifted the sand formations. Six of our students got Bar and Bat Mitvahed in the desert, and afterwards we threw candy at them and sang songs and danced to celebrate their emergence to adulthood. Dring breakfast, George, Lee, Brandon, Josh and I could drank four cups (!!) of the Bedouin tea, which was incredibly addictive. We had a drink-off- even though we weren't thirsty, the tea was so good we kept having to get up and drink more.
We went to the Dead Sea- luckily, the road to the Dead Sea was still open. The Dead Sea is the lowest point on Earth- and the salinity in the Dead Sea is 10 times saltier than regular ocean water. We ended up being the only people at the Dead Sea, because all of the roads, except the one we took, were blocked. We got in to the Dead Sea, which is aquamarine, and the second you get on your back you float! And once you start floating, getting upright on your feet is very, very hard. I plopped down on my stomach and without doing anything, I was floating above water. Swimming freestyle in the Dead Sea was really fun- you feel almost as if you are flying. Then, we got out, smeared mud all over our bodies, let it dry in the sun. Once we were caked in mud, we got back in, and reached down to the Dead Sea bottom to get the salt rocks out. We smeared sea salt all over our bodies to get the mud off and my skin was as smooth as silk afterwards. I felt like I had just left a fancy spa, I felt so smooth. It was a great end to a sad opening day.
The rest of the trip is a little more hazy. We went to a kibbutz that functioned as a secret factory during the war of independence. A group of people who were quite young- about 18-21 years old, formed a plan to make a bullet factory under the laundry room of their kibbutz, in an area streaming with Brits, who controlled the country before the independence war. Many people on their kibbutz didn't even know about the secret bullet-making operation that was going on. The bullets they made (and they were never found out) helped the Jews win the war of independence in 1948. Those kids risked their lives for this pipe dream of Jewish independence. It was a cool factory.
I am quite quite tired but will write more tomorrow. Birthright is over but there is much more to say.
Love love,
A
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