Friday afternoon, Sky Hostel, Ben Yehuda 34. 5 minutes from the waterfront. Very much a hostel.
The day was still beautiful and warm, and since the next time I would find myself in Tel Aviv it would probably not be so hospitable, I decided it seemed only fair to go back to the beach, which was likely to be fairly empty and entirely beautiful. My friend I joined me, who came fully prepared for a proper evening on the beach, bringing along some party leftovers (a bottle of wine, chocolate rice krispy treats), and the most necessary, a beach blanket--the beaches in tel aviv have especially soft, and persistantly sticky, sand. I, on the other hand, brought only a towel. Okay, so my intentions are often nice, but sometimes the production leaves something to be desired. After slightly mocking how touristy the whole thing was (going swimming at night), the two of us did so, and then I conceeded that, touristy or not, swimming at night is a great idea. Tel Aviv has something over new york: beach, and stars.
Saturday was an especially exciting day: meeting the long lost and through facebook recovered family!
My cousin picked me up in Tel Aviv, and we drove to Kfar Saba, where we had lunch with the rest of the family at their restaurant. Beautiful atmosphere, largely designed by Roi (oldest of the brothers). Right away it felt like family. Plus, they are tall. Yep, definitely related.
I'll hopefully be seeing them all soon again, as I have been invited to visit their Sukkah. That evening, Roi came back into Tel Aviv, and he and I hung out (also on the beach), and walked through the Marina, before he very sweetly drove me to the airport (thanks, Roi!)
due to the changing of the clocks for daylight savings time, my 1 am flight was technically a 2 am flight and I had an extra hour (but better than it being the other way around, i suppose), and at around 10 am the next morning, I arrived at Claudia's.
Nex to come: Yom Kippur in Berlin
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
additional story: Kappirot
So as many know, the time around and between Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur is generally seen as a time to fix grievances, right wrongs, reevaluate yourself, etc. There is an old minchag (custom) called Kappirot, in which a persons since are absolved in a manner of speaking, through an act of repentence and charity. In specific, the person waves a chicken over their head three times, and then the chicken is sent to the butcher to be delivered to a needy family. Some say you can also do this with a fish. At Mayanot, we had the opportunity to do this if we wanted to (obviously I turned it down. I told them they could give me a nice frozen chicken, and I would throw that around and then give it to a soup kitchen).
Relevence of this story: So while Hayley and I were getting out sandwiches and discussing how we are the worst yeshivah girls ever (whenever we meet new people, and they inevitably ask us what we are doing here, and we tell them we are studying at a Chabad Yeshiva, they give us a once over and often do not believe us) noticed that a man wearing a chicken suit had appearred. Although my original thoughts were that this was some sort of gimmick, up went the Moshiach sign, and I knew it was Chabad outreach, bless them in there arrogantly and unJewish prostyletizing ways. Anyway, they set up this stand, with some stuffed animal chickens and start talking about Kappirot. people get interested, as always--it is hard to ignore a rollerblading chicken-suited Chasid. A few girls start doing the chicken dance, walking up to the chicken, and suddenly another of the preachers thrusts a box into the girls' faces. Inside the box? two actual, rather young looking chickens. The girls screamed, yelled at the Chabadniks, and walked away.
Moral: Chickens have feelings, too. Kappirot can be done with money instead. Free the chickens.
Relevence of this story: So while Hayley and I were getting out sandwiches and discussing how we are the worst yeshivah girls ever (whenever we meet new people, and they inevitably ask us what we are doing here, and we tell them we are studying at a Chabad Yeshiva, they give us a once over and often do not believe us) noticed that a man wearing a chicken suit had appearred. Although my original thoughts were that this was some sort of gimmick, up went the Moshiach sign, and I knew it was Chabad outreach, bless them in there arrogantly and unJewish prostyletizing ways. Anyway, they set up this stand, with some stuffed animal chickens and start talking about Kappirot. people get interested, as always--it is hard to ignore a rollerblading chicken-suited Chasid. A few girls start doing the chicken dance, walking up to the chicken, and suddenly another of the preachers thrusts a box into the girls' faces. Inside the box? two actual, rather young looking chickens. The girls screamed, yelled at the Chabadniks, and walked away.
Moral: Chickens have feelings, too. Kappirot can be done with money instead. Free the chickens.
"we are the worst Yeshiva Girls ever."- hd
Current location: bottom bunk of a girls dorm-style room, Sky Hostel, 34 Ben Yehuda, Tel Aviv. Approximately five minutes walk from the sea. Pretty exciting that I picked up wi-fi.
How did I get here? that is the story...
Since I am flying to Berlin this evening, which is Motzei Shabbos, I would have needed to get a cab just as shabbos was ending in Jerusalem in order to make my flight. Probably would take a bit of time, or be very costly, neither of which appealled to me, what with how calmly I handle getting to an airport on time and all. So I figured the logical thing would be to spend the weekend in Tel Aviv, and my two partners in crime, Hayley and Anna, decided to take a mini holiday from the yeshiva and join me thursday and friday (but of course, making it back to Jerusalem for Shabbos.)
We arrived to the central bus station around 7, but couldn't yet go to where we were couchsurfing for the night, and as I had arranged to see a good friend, that was what we did first. He picked us up at the trainstation, we all had a lovely dinner, my friend broke up with a guy for Hayley (because the guy didn't speak English, and often used his elderly uncle as a translator), and then my friend drove us to our abode for the night.
Our hosts were very nice, three pilots in the airforce. We got the chance to talk to them about the actions that they do, the methods they are taught; one spoke of how meticulous they are truly trained to be in avoiding any civilian fatalities when on a mission, but this is a conversation for another post.
The six of us all went out, bar hopping a bit. At one place, I felt a bit of homesickness for the first time--at the bar there were big tvs with artsy images and such showing, and one piece on the loop was a video taken from a car, driving through new york. at one point it drove up 4th avenue, past the Kmart on Astor place, and nearly right past the Palladium.
Lessons from this night: Bar tenders in Tel Aviv make very strong drinks. Israeli men enjoy pretending to do american accents, especially when a bit drunk, and are often not very good at them. Oh, and Tel Aviv is awesome.
Bright and early the next morning (11:20--still AM!) the three yeshiva girls donned our bikinis and trekked to the beach. A while later, Hayley and I- who hadn't yet eaten- decided to go into town and grab some brunch. As we were walking away from the beach, still just carrying our shirts, Hayley realized that 'we are the worst yeshivah girls ever'.
Reasons why:
1) slept at the apartment of guys
2)wearing bikinis on a mixed beach
3)being at a very openly gay beach
4)going to bars
5)walking around in bathing suits
6)getting lunch- one of us had turkey and gouda, the other roast beef and cheese!
The sandwiches were from this little kiosk-thing on Ben Gurion--we had been told they were the best, now I believe it.
Shortly thereafter, Anna and Hayley left to go back to Jerusalem for Shabbos with the Gestetners (which I do regret missing), and as our hosts were all leaving for the remainder of the weekend, I was hostel bound, bringing me to where I am now.
Last night, after checking in and settling in, I decided I wanted to go back to beach and swim in the sea at night. A friend joined me, and came prepared, bringing leftover chocolate rice krispies and wine from a recent party. Swimming and sitting on the beach is fun, especially at night. A big difference between New York and Tel Aviv: TA has stars at night. Lots of them.
Today, I am going to be picked up by my cousin (whom I have never met) and go to a family lunch in kfar saba (to meet the rest of my newly known family).
see you in berlin!
How did I get here? that is the story...
Since I am flying to Berlin this evening, which is Motzei Shabbos, I would have needed to get a cab just as shabbos was ending in Jerusalem in order to make my flight. Probably would take a bit of time, or be very costly, neither of which appealled to me, what with how calmly I handle getting to an airport on time and all. So I figured the logical thing would be to spend the weekend in Tel Aviv, and my two partners in crime, Hayley and Anna, decided to take a mini holiday from the yeshiva and join me thursday and friday (but of course, making it back to Jerusalem for Shabbos.)
We arrived to the central bus station around 7, but couldn't yet go to where we were couchsurfing for the night, and as I had arranged to see a good friend, that was what we did first. He picked us up at the trainstation, we all had a lovely dinner, my friend broke up with a guy for Hayley (because the guy didn't speak English, and often used his elderly uncle as a translator), and then my friend drove us to our abode for the night.
Our hosts were very nice, three pilots in the airforce. We got the chance to talk to them about the actions that they do, the methods they are taught; one spoke of how meticulous they are truly trained to be in avoiding any civilian fatalities when on a mission, but this is a conversation for another post.
The six of us all went out, bar hopping a bit. At one place, I felt a bit of homesickness for the first time--at the bar there were big tvs with artsy images and such showing, and one piece on the loop was a video taken from a car, driving through new york. at one point it drove up 4th avenue, past the Kmart on Astor place, and nearly right past the Palladium.
Lessons from this night: Bar tenders in Tel Aviv make very strong drinks. Israeli men enjoy pretending to do american accents, especially when a bit drunk, and are often not very good at them. Oh, and Tel Aviv is awesome.
Bright and early the next morning (11:20--still AM!) the three yeshiva girls donned our bikinis and trekked to the beach. A while later, Hayley and I- who hadn't yet eaten- decided to go into town and grab some brunch. As we were walking away from the beach, still just carrying our shirts, Hayley realized that 'we are the worst yeshivah girls ever'.
Reasons why:
1) slept at the apartment of guys
2)wearing bikinis on a mixed beach
3)being at a very openly gay beach
4)going to bars
5)walking around in bathing suits
6)getting lunch- one of us had turkey and gouda, the other roast beef and cheese!
The sandwiches were from this little kiosk-thing on Ben Gurion--we had been told they were the best, now I believe it.
Shortly thereafter, Anna and Hayley left to go back to Jerusalem for Shabbos with the Gestetners (which I do regret missing), and as our hosts were all leaving for the remainder of the weekend, I was hostel bound, bringing me to where I am now.
Last night, after checking in and settling in, I decided I wanted to go back to beach and swim in the sea at night. A friend joined me, and came prepared, bringing leftover chocolate rice krispies and wine from a recent party. Swimming and sitting on the beach is fun, especially at night. A big difference between New York and Tel Aviv: TA has stars at night. Lots of them.
Today, I am going to be picked up by my cousin (whom I have never met) and go to a family lunch in kfar saba (to meet the rest of my newly known family).
see you in berlin!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
things I did not pack...
Unfortunately, I always manage to forget to pack something. Luckily, unlike the time when I went to DC for a long weekend and managed to forget to bring ANY shirts, this time it wasn't such an important thing, but seeing as I am going to be spending this coming weekend in Tel Aviv, my absent bathing suit was a bit of a dilemma...after a bit of fruitless searching so late in the after season, I passed by a fabric store, and, returning to my old ways, solved the problem that way. In the end, making my swimsuit instead of buying one resulted in a much better fit, and a much lower price.
Another thing that I did not bring with me? A regular suit. Of course, when packing I saw no likelihood of needing one, but since I am interview in Berlin next Tuesday, I do. Unfortunate new piece of knowledge: imported stores in Israel are very overpriced. Sorry Israelis. I have managed to borrow a black pencil skirt from a friend, and think I have scrounged together an acceptable outfit from the closet I did bring with me. Since my interview is the day after Yom Kippur, and has been moved from 2:30 pm to 10 am, and since the only HM that once was open on sudays in Berlin no longer is, my plans to buy something quick and easy have fallen through.
On that note, I will be spending Yom Kippur in Berlin. Yes, Mom, I found someone to go to services and breakfast with. And to add to the fun, like I said before, leading up to my week long stint in my favorite european locale, I am spending the weekend in Tel Aviv, going to the beach Friday with a couple of friends, and finally meeting my new found extended family at some point. I'll probably look for something to make my interview outfit abit more conservative, too.
In other exciting news, Chelsea and Caroline have booked their tickets and are coming to Israel!!
Need to finish packing now, and Chasidus class is in six hours...
l'hitraot
Another thing that I did not bring with me? A regular suit. Of course, when packing I saw no likelihood of needing one, but since I am interview in Berlin next Tuesday, I do. Unfortunate new piece of knowledge: imported stores in Israel are very overpriced. Sorry Israelis. I have managed to borrow a black pencil skirt from a friend, and think I have scrounged together an acceptable outfit from the closet I did bring with me. Since my interview is the day after Yom Kippur, and has been moved from 2:30 pm to 10 am, and since the only HM that once was open on sudays in Berlin no longer is, my plans to buy something quick and easy have fallen through.
On that note, I will be spending Yom Kippur in Berlin. Yes, Mom, I found someone to go to services and breakfast with. And to add to the fun, like I said before, leading up to my week long stint in my favorite european locale, I am spending the weekend in Tel Aviv, going to the beach Friday with a couple of friends, and finally meeting my new found extended family at some point. I'll probably look for something to make my interview outfit abit more conservative, too.
In other exciting news, Chelsea and Caroline have booked their tickets and are coming to Israel!!
Need to finish packing now, and Chasidus class is in six hours...
l'hitraot
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Rosh HaShannah reflected
As of last Friday evening, it is officially 5770. Apparently this means that we are in the 1,770 year of the time of Moshiach, and that the Moshiach has to come sometime in the next 230 years. That it is, presuming we accept that the entire earth is only 5770 years old. (by the way, did you see that they discovered modern human footprints in tanzania, preserved in volcanic ash, dated to 120,000 years ago? currently the oldest human footprints known.)
Anyway, overview of the weekend...I spent the first night the guest of the Levingers, the Rabbi and his wife, Chaya, as well as their five adorable children, Yehuda, Yossi, Tzipi, Chani, and Mendel. It was the first chasidic chag of my life, and I still can't understand how Chaya manages to manage five children and make such a multi course meal. Miracle of the evening: I deseeded a pomegranate in a nice dress, and managed to not get a single stain!
Instead of going to some shul the next day, I decided to spend my first Rosh HaShannah in Jerusalem (and realistically, likely my last) at the Kotel. I was a bit nervous at first, convinced that with the double whammy of Rosh HaShannah and Shabbat, the wall would be a mosh pit, completely packed without a stone left to stand on.
Instead, it was quite the opposite. There were so few people, I was able to take a chair of the stack (which was still stacked!) and bring it right up to the wall, sitting just a foot or two from the stones, and sit for a couple of hours, reading, resting, thinking. I have managed to come so far, to where so many generations only dreamed to speak of, and my only regret is that I know I will never be able to where my Tallis at the wall.
Walking through the old city, seeing the ruins, the new "old" walls blending nearly seamlessly with the actual old walls, on a day that was meant to be spent in this city, was a slightly surreal experience, which was increased by the hordes of Russian tourists thoughtlessly snapping photos and speaking on their cell phones in the plaza of the Western wall, and all over the old city (note to potential tourists: on Shabbat and holidays, not the most considerate thing to do.)
This night, I went with four other girls back to the Lymans' for dinner, where I was confronted with the biggest symbolic fish head ever. It was from a salmon. And had teeth.
On the second day, since we had yet to hear the sounding of the Shofar, I went to the Great Synagogue, where the service was austere and the famous choir neogospel. Beautiful, yes, but disconnected.
The evening's Tashlich brought us to the Jerusalem Botanical Gardens, where the hungry fish and turtles eagerly gobbled up the challah-fied sins. Later that night (much later), on a whim, Hayley and I went to Tel Aviv, where we met up with a couple of her friends for a negilah night on the beach of the mediterranean sea before coming home at dawn to start the Fast of Gedaliah, really an easy fast as far as fasts go.
In other news, I am going to be going to Berlin on Sunday morning in order to have a job interview, which was supposed to be at 2:30 on Tuesday (the day after Yom Kippur and another fast), and will now be at 10 am. Yup.
so, ich muss jetzt nur Deutsch sprechen, ob ich fuer mein Interview bereit sein will...
Tschuss!
Anyway, overview of the weekend...I spent the first night the guest of the Levingers, the Rabbi and his wife, Chaya, as well as their five adorable children, Yehuda, Yossi, Tzipi, Chani, and Mendel. It was the first chasidic chag of my life, and I still can't understand how Chaya manages to manage five children and make such a multi course meal. Miracle of the evening: I deseeded a pomegranate in a nice dress, and managed to not get a single stain!
Instead of going to some shul the next day, I decided to spend my first Rosh HaShannah in Jerusalem (and realistically, likely my last) at the Kotel. I was a bit nervous at first, convinced that with the double whammy of Rosh HaShannah and Shabbat, the wall would be a mosh pit, completely packed without a stone left to stand on.
Instead, it was quite the opposite. There were so few people, I was able to take a chair of the stack (which was still stacked!) and bring it right up to the wall, sitting just a foot or two from the stones, and sit for a couple of hours, reading, resting, thinking. I have managed to come so far, to where so many generations only dreamed to speak of, and my only regret is that I know I will never be able to where my Tallis at the wall.
Walking through the old city, seeing the ruins, the new "old" walls blending nearly seamlessly with the actual old walls, on a day that was meant to be spent in this city, was a slightly surreal experience, which was increased by the hordes of Russian tourists thoughtlessly snapping photos and speaking on their cell phones in the plaza of the Western wall, and all over the old city (note to potential tourists: on Shabbat and holidays, not the most considerate thing to do.)
This night, I went with four other girls back to the Lymans' for dinner, where I was confronted with the biggest symbolic fish head ever. It was from a salmon. And had teeth.
On the second day, since we had yet to hear the sounding of the Shofar, I went to the Great Synagogue, where the service was austere and the famous choir neogospel. Beautiful, yes, but disconnected.
The evening's Tashlich brought us to the Jerusalem Botanical Gardens, where the hungry fish and turtles eagerly gobbled up the challah-fied sins. Later that night (much later), on a whim, Hayley and I went to Tel Aviv, where we met up with a couple of her friends for a negilah night on the beach of the mediterranean sea before coming home at dawn to start the Fast of Gedaliah, really an easy fast as far as fasts go.
In other news, I am going to be going to Berlin on Sunday morning in order to have a job interview, which was supposed to be at 2:30 on Tuesday (the day after Yom Kippur and another fast), and will now be at 10 am. Yup.
so, ich muss jetzt nur Deutsch sprechen, ob ich fuer mein Interview bereit sein will...
Tschuss!
virtuality
last sunday, an Israeli soldier in the air force, during a training session, fell from the sky and lost his life. this soldier happened to be not just any soldier, one of the countless members of the IDF, but the son of the first Israeli astronaut to go into space, who also tragically died when the NASA shuttle failed to safely reenter the earth's atmosphere.
this soldier also happened to be the friend of a good friend of mine. he was 20 years old, had a mother, three younger siblings, and a country, all of whom loved him.
apparently when the plane crash was cleared, they were not able to recover his body, and so buried an empty casket next to his father's grave, where his mother, in his eulogy, said ought to have been the place reserved for her, not used for him.
what are the marks of our lives? when there isn't even a body left from us, when the concept of a soul is so abstract and unrecognizable, especially in such a tragedy, how do we see the proof of existence, the proof that a life actually happened, and was not just a dream?
his facebook page is still up. His handsome face still smiles out of his profile, and his friends still make posts on his wall, but what does this mean? is a profile still a profile when it is just a shadow, an imprint? and now, who are the posts meant for? him, his family, his friends, or the one who makes the post?
when our virtual selves are still accessible, are we truly lost?
this soldier also happened to be the friend of a good friend of mine. he was 20 years old, had a mother, three younger siblings, and a country, all of whom loved him.
apparently when the plane crash was cleared, they were not able to recover his body, and so buried an empty casket next to his father's grave, where his mother, in his eulogy, said ought to have been the place reserved for her, not used for him.
what are the marks of our lives? when there isn't even a body left from us, when the concept of a soul is so abstract and unrecognizable, especially in such a tragedy, how do we see the proof of existence, the proof that a life actually happened, and was not just a dream?
his facebook page is still up. His handsome face still smiles out of his profile, and his friends still make posts on his wall, but what does this mean? is a profile still a profile when it is just a shadow, an imprint? and now, who are the posts meant for? him, his family, his friends, or the one who makes the post?
when our virtual selves are still accessible, are we truly lost?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
rivka marga, the mayanot magnet
In every setting you find yourself in, generally there is one special person that just draws you in like a magnet.
At the Mayanot Women's Yeshiva in Jerusalem, for me that person is called Rivka Marga.
I first met RM on my very first day in Jerusalem-- After class, three of us went to her house to make challah for Shabbat. Right away, I knew I was in the presence of something special. Even though this meeting also was the site of one of my expected, unreasonable falls.
During this afternoon, like a good Jewish mother, the first thing she did with all these new, strange girls in her house was feed us. In addition to four of her eight children. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, she explained various spiritual aspects of baking challah, as well as indulging us with experimental braiding methods, etc.
Beyond this, RM teaches at the moment three or four classes of mine, two that are actually her, and two that she is covering for women on maternity leave. No matter how tired I am, her presence wakes me up, makes me feel so much more comfortable, and even through her sneehus (sp?) clothes and constant sheitl, I feel that I could ask her about anything. She is the perfect balance of spirituality and groundedness, with a great sense of efficiency. If I ever entered the Chabad/Frum world, I would want to emulate RM.
At the Mayanot Women's Yeshiva in Jerusalem, for me that person is called Rivka Marga.
I first met RM on my very first day in Jerusalem-- After class, three of us went to her house to make challah for Shabbat. Right away, I knew I was in the presence of something special. Even though this meeting also was the site of one of my expected, unreasonable falls.
During this afternoon, like a good Jewish mother, the first thing she did with all these new, strange girls in her house was feed us. In addition to four of her eight children. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, she explained various spiritual aspects of baking challah, as well as indulging us with experimental braiding methods, etc.
Beyond this, RM teaches at the moment three or four classes of mine, two that are actually her, and two that she is covering for women on maternity leave. No matter how tired I am, her presence wakes me up, makes me feel so much more comfortable, and even through her sneehus (sp?) clothes and constant sheitl, I feel that I could ask her about anything. She is the perfect balance of spirituality and groundedness, with a great sense of efficiency. If I ever entered the Chabad/Frum world, I would want to emulate RM.
getting up to speed
so. I said I would get a lot worse with the frequency of my posts, and I was right. Lets catch things up then.
In the past couple of weeks, I have had had classes at 7:45-8:30, then again from 9:30 to 4 pm. definitely a bit more intense then expected by the general public. The classes cover a very wide range of topics from chasidus, parsha, and talmud, to love dating and marriage, and 'my jewish family'. Apparently, the dating to marriage courtship process ought to be no more than three months.
The teachers are all interesting, and range from former stoner hippies, to FFB women, to varying levels of chabad rabbi, who sometimes speak with various levels of condecension. Some of the teachers aren't my style, but a couple are especially amazing.
I spent my first shabbos at the Kotel, with the first shabbos meals had with the yeshiva and the girls here. The second shabbat was at a carlebach schul nearby, with dinner at a local couples' home.
pieces of excitement: the area is very nice and a bit chic, apparently. I live just off of a main road in Moshav Germania, so there are a lot of cafes and restaurants nearby.
I have been walking a lot recently, to and from downtown Jerusalem nearly everyday. While I thought about doing a lot of walking and packed comfy shoes, I did not think about the fact that the stones and sidewalks here are very slippery. Not surprisingly, most of my shoes don't have the best traction. I fell once. Yesterday I bought a new pair of Naots, so hopefully that problem will be solved.
I am beginning to know my way around, largely through going out walking by myself, getting myself lost, and then figuring out how to be unlost. It may seem like the hard way, but it works. Also, I have found a favorite spot, not too far away, in a nice little nook near the menachim begin heritage center, and the montifiore windmill. Its the type of thing that wouldn't necessarily be noticed if you didn't know it was there.
The head rabbi of the program is very nice. He and his wife have currently five kids, and their first language is Yiddish, which is fun for me, since I can generally communicate with them in my German.
Okay, I think I am going to end this post, and post a couple others, so things can be a bit more topic specific.
In the past couple of weeks, I have had had classes at 7:45-8:30, then again from 9:30 to 4 pm. definitely a bit more intense then expected by the general public. The classes cover a very wide range of topics from chasidus, parsha, and talmud, to love dating and marriage, and 'my jewish family'. Apparently, the dating to marriage courtship process ought to be no more than three months.
The teachers are all interesting, and range from former stoner hippies, to FFB women, to varying levels of chabad rabbi, who sometimes speak with various levels of condecension. Some of the teachers aren't my style, but a couple are especially amazing.
I spent my first shabbos at the Kotel, with the first shabbos meals had with the yeshiva and the girls here. The second shabbat was at a carlebach schul nearby, with dinner at a local couples' home.
pieces of excitement: the area is very nice and a bit chic, apparently. I live just off of a main road in Moshav Germania, so there are a lot of cafes and restaurants nearby.
I have been walking a lot recently, to and from downtown Jerusalem nearly everyday. While I thought about doing a lot of walking and packed comfy shoes, I did not think about the fact that the stones and sidewalks here are very slippery. Not surprisingly, most of my shoes don't have the best traction. I fell once. Yesterday I bought a new pair of Naots, so hopefully that problem will be solved.
I am beginning to know my way around, largely through going out walking by myself, getting myself lost, and then figuring out how to be unlost. It may seem like the hard way, but it works. Also, I have found a favorite spot, not too far away, in a nice little nook near the menachim begin heritage center, and the montifiore windmill. Its the type of thing that wouldn't necessarily be noticed if you didn't know it was there.
The head rabbi of the program is very nice. He and his wife have currently five kids, and their first language is Yiddish, which is fun for me, since I can generally communicate with them in my German.
Okay, I think I am going to end this post, and post a couple others, so things can be a bit more topic specific.
Friday, September 4, 2009
day 1.Riding buses.
So, leading off from my last post to you all from the lovely Ben Gurion International Airport, I managed to find the nesher cab, and started on my way to Jerusalem. The cab driver was actually very nice, if not a bit unprofessional (he stopped on the way to get himself a soda). When we finally reached my address after dropping nearly everyone else off, he helped me with my luggage, and used his phone to call the contact person, since I have yet to get my new sim card for Israel.
I was let in by a very tired but very nice girl, who is also in the program, and we managed to find which room I was in, and wake my roommate up. sorry, caitlin.
I didn't sleep persay, but i did lay down for a few hours, and in the morning quickly unpacked my suitcases and settled in, ready to join the rest of the girls for breakfast at 9, and then head down to class at 9:30. Classes were okay, on first impression, some of the teachers seem to appeal to me more than others.
during break, which starts at 1:30 0n thursdays, along with two other girls I went to the house of one of the rabbi's to bake challah with the rebbitsen (rabbi's wife). I learned how to do a six braid, and succeeded in a very well down 5 braid. summary: baking challah is fun, and little children are cute. Exciting parts of this tale: I fell down for no reason (and it had been more than I year since my last tumble!) and, I rode a public bus, six or so full stops, for a full ten minutes. and lived to tell the tale.
the sun has just risen, and this evening begins my first shabbat of this experience.
appropriately, when in the cab here from the airport, I heard on the radio a pop version of Boi Kallah.
Shabbat Shalom!
I was let in by a very tired but very nice girl, who is also in the program, and we managed to find which room I was in, and wake my roommate up. sorry, caitlin.
I didn't sleep persay, but i did lay down for a few hours, and in the morning quickly unpacked my suitcases and settled in, ready to join the rest of the girls for breakfast at 9, and then head down to class at 9:30. Classes were okay, on first impression, some of the teachers seem to appeal to me more than others.
during break, which starts at 1:30 0n thursdays, along with two other girls I went to the house of one of the rabbi's to bake challah with the rebbitsen (rabbi's wife). I learned how to do a six braid, and succeeded in a very well down 5 braid. summary: baking challah is fun, and little children are cute. Exciting parts of this tale: I fell down for no reason (and it had been more than I year since my last tumble!) and, I rode a public bus, six or so full stops, for a full ten minutes. and lived to tell the tale.
the sun has just risen, and this evening begins my first shabbat of this experience.
appropriately, when in the cab here from the airport, I heard on the radio a pop version of Boi Kallah.
Shabbat Shalom!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
business first, then Shalom, Tel Aviv!
Okay, so let start out by promising that within a week, the frequency of these posts will almost certainly decrease. That settled...
The flight. due to a series of lucky circumstances, I flew first class, or business first as continental calls it.
good things about first class: three bags checked allowed, even though I only brought two. bags can be 70 lbs. i could nearly fully extend MY legs while seated. the seat moves into a lying down position. my tray table was given a linen table cloth. no one sat next to me on this flight. i had a dinner menu. and ordered steak. with a glass of red wine. then a cheese plate. then ice cream and baileys. borded the plane first.
bad things about first class: it is not like in the wedding singer. there is no red carpet, and passengers cannot actually serenade the plane. shucks.
currently, i am sitting outside a coffee bar in tel aviv (still in Ben Gurion airport). collecting my luggage, going through customs, all relatively painless. probably because its nearly 2 am. I am soon going to leave the airport and attempt to get into my apartment in Jerusalem. we'll see how that goes.
on a slightly more thoughtful note, as the plane started to get lower, preparing to land, i looked out the window as we flew over the mediterranean sea. I instinctively said a whispered schehechiyanu (a blessing for a new thing, a first time, or a first time of the year) as I saw the sea meet a sea of lights, the twinkling, hundred year old Tel Aviv. In the middle of my prayer, a moment of 'WTF' swept my mind, and for a second, I had no idea what I was doing, why I was here, what had possessed me to want to take this trip. That thought hasnt really vanished...perhaps been calmed, but it is still there. Here's to seeing what comes!
Shalom!
The flight. due to a series of lucky circumstances, I flew first class, or business first as continental calls it.
good things about first class: three bags checked allowed, even though I only brought two. bags can be 70 lbs. i could nearly fully extend MY legs while seated. the seat moves into a lying down position. my tray table was given a linen table cloth. no one sat next to me on this flight. i had a dinner menu. and ordered steak. with a glass of red wine. then a cheese plate. then ice cream and baileys. borded the plane first.
bad things about first class: it is not like in the wedding singer. there is no red carpet, and passengers cannot actually serenade the plane. shucks.
currently, i am sitting outside a coffee bar in tel aviv (still in Ben Gurion airport). collecting my luggage, going through customs, all relatively painless. probably because its nearly 2 am. I am soon going to leave the airport and attempt to get into my apartment in Jerusalem. we'll see how that goes.
on a slightly more thoughtful note, as the plane started to get lower, preparing to land, i looked out the window as we flew over the mediterranean sea. I instinctively said a whispered schehechiyanu (a blessing for a new thing, a first time, or a first time of the year) as I saw the sea meet a sea of lights, the twinkling, hundred year old Tel Aviv. In the middle of my prayer, a moment of 'WTF' swept my mind, and for a second, I had no idea what I was doing, why I was here, what had possessed me to want to take this trip. That thought hasnt really vanished...perhaps been calmed, but it is still there. Here's to seeing what comes!
Shalom!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
13 minutes, 12 seconds on the computer, not on an airplane
13:12. That is all the time I have, before the computert automatically signs me out again. I am in the 'business center' of the crowne plaza hotel in Newark, which, naturally, implies that I am not in fact on an airplane winging toward Tel Aviv. While standing in line to check in, an announcement came on over the loud speaker. "Continental flight 90 has been delayed to 6:30 am". (reminder: the flight was supposed to be at 10:50 pm).
So, the options were to stay at the airport all night, go home for around 4 hours, making my parents get up early again to drive back to the airport, or go to the comped hotel room.
It hasn't been too bad so far, to be honest. The airline also gave me food vouchers, so when I got here, another woman from my flight asked me if I would like to join her for dinner in the restaurant. The food was tasty, and her company interesting (she works for the consulate in New York), and now I will have a friend for the daytime flight that I will likely not sleep through in the morning.
Another funny aspect of this, now instead of arriving to Jerusalem around 6pm to go into the building I will be staying in, I may not get there until around 3 am...doubt someone will be there to let me in at 3 am. Looks like I may get very familiar with Ben Gurion airport. at least it has been recently redone.\
benefits of being at the hotel: really big bed. and a decent bath tub. to myself. (the five months ahead of me are shadowed by the communal bathroom awaiting me).
downsides: time of the flight, and needing to head back to the airport at 4:30 am.
So, I have 6:11 on the clock before I get signed off the computer again, and a wake up call in 4 hours, 20 minutes. I am going to leave this here for now, and may I say that I have so far handled this upset with (relatively) remarkable calmness. Chelsea, I hope you are proud.
hopefully, the next post will come from Jerusalem
Shalom!
So, the options were to stay at the airport all night, go home for around 4 hours, making my parents get up early again to drive back to the airport, or go to the comped hotel room.
It hasn't been too bad so far, to be honest. The airline also gave me food vouchers, so when I got here, another woman from my flight asked me if I would like to join her for dinner in the restaurant. The food was tasty, and her company interesting (she works for the consulate in New York), and now I will have a friend for the daytime flight that I will likely not sleep through in the morning.
Another funny aspect of this, now instead of arriving to Jerusalem around 6pm to go into the building I will be staying in, I may not get there until around 3 am...doubt someone will be there to let me in at 3 am. Looks like I may get very familiar with Ben Gurion airport. at least it has been recently redone.\
benefits of being at the hotel: really big bed. and a decent bath tub. to myself. (the five months ahead of me are shadowed by the communal bathroom awaiting me).
downsides: time of the flight, and needing to head back to the airport at 4:30 am.
So, I have 6:11 on the clock before I get signed off the computer again, and a wake up call in 4 hours, 20 minutes. I am going to leave this here for now, and may I say that I have so far handled this upset with (relatively) remarkable calmness. Chelsea, I hope you are proud.
hopefully, the next post will come from Jerusalem
Shalom!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
september 1st, 2009
Flight CO90, leaving Newark Liberty International Airport in New Jersey at 10:50 pm, arriving Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv, 4:15 pm on September 2nd
still to be packed: anything that would be kept in a bathroom, anything that could be considered an outfit accessory, anything that could be plugged in, and the laundry, that is still in the drier. Good news, though! I did not mistake the date of this flight, unlike the last international one I was on...thanks again to those who helped me through that one (batman).
so, approximately three and a half months ago, I commenced from NYU, ending my undergraduate career of studying abroad, writing a thesis, working for ResEd, and being a happy student. Naturally, I have moved on now to the next step in life, leaving behind the safe world of Washington Square Park for the real world...or maybe for the world that I can simply run away to.
And so, that is what I am going to do. As of today, or 20 hours and 35 minutes later today, I will be moving temporarily to Israel, experiencing living in the Holy Land, eating hummus with every meal, learning Hebrew, and oh yeah, living at a Yeshivah.
So, even though right now I should be packing, sorting through the laundry, cleaning up what I have decided not to pack, etc, before I have to go to the eye doctor tomorrow to get a contact prescription, buy some contacts, and get shekels, because, lets face it, the dollar doesn't have the same international appeal it once did, I would like to make some goals.
Goals for my time in Israel
1. Ride a camel in the Negev. My birthright didn't do this.
2. Learn Hebrew.
3. Learn to make shakshuka.
4. Post at least twice a week (on average).
5. Go to Egypt *
6. Connect to long lost family.
7. Establish new ties.
8. Take the GRE
9. Apply to graduate school.
10. Stay healthy.
*assuming that it is safe to do so at the time
In the meantime, a few more short term goals:
finish packing
clean the fish bowl
stay calm.
So, to finish this post, bathtubs will be missed, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is the saddest movie ever, suitcases can be cozy, and baby wipes are a travel necessity.
Shalom!
~liz
still to be packed: anything that would be kept in a bathroom, anything that could be considered an outfit accessory, anything that could be plugged in, and the laundry, that is still in the drier. Good news, though! I did not mistake the date of this flight, unlike the last international one I was on...thanks again to those who helped me through that one (batman).
so, approximately three and a half months ago, I commenced from NYU, ending my undergraduate career of studying abroad, writing a thesis, working for ResEd, and being a happy student. Naturally, I have moved on now to the next step in life, leaving behind the safe world of Washington Square Park for the real world...or maybe for the world that I can simply run away to.
And so, that is what I am going to do. As of today, or 20 hours and 35 minutes later today, I will be moving temporarily to Israel, experiencing living in the Holy Land, eating hummus with every meal, learning Hebrew, and oh yeah, living at a Yeshivah.
So, even though right now I should be packing, sorting through the laundry, cleaning up what I have decided not to pack, etc, before I have to go to the eye doctor tomorrow to get a contact prescription, buy some contacts, and get shekels, because, lets face it, the dollar doesn't have the same international appeal it once did, I would like to make some goals.
Goals for my time in Israel
1. Ride a camel in the Negev. My birthright didn't do this.
2. Learn Hebrew.
3. Learn to make shakshuka.
4. Post at least twice a week (on average).
5. Go to Egypt *
6. Connect to long lost family.
7. Establish new ties.
8. Take the GRE
9. Apply to graduate school.
10. Stay healthy.
*assuming that it is safe to do so at the time
In the meantime, a few more short term goals:
finish packing
clean the fish bowl
stay calm.
So, to finish this post, bathtubs will be missed, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is the saddest movie ever, suitcases can be cozy, and baby wipes are a travel necessity.
Shalom!
~liz
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
