This weekend I traveled up north with my friend Ali to go see one of my friends from when I lived in Haifa in 2008- Sierra. She is one of my favorite people in the whole world. We traveled up by bus and taxi to Ein Hashofet, a kibbutz in the north, just below Haifa. Seeing another Kibbutz was interesting in itself. Beautiful, small, and full of greenery, Ein Hashofet has a beautiful view of the mountains on one side, and the sea on the other. We arrived, caught up with life the past two years and then napped to get ready for the night.
After waking up from our nap we lit the Shabbat candles, broke the bread and headed over to the cafeteria to celebrate Shabbat. The differences between my Kibbutz and Ein Hashofet were definitely visible. Much smaller, the cafeteria was full of families, giggling, children running around with little pieces of challah and the elderly shuffling their plates of mashed potatoes and vegetables through the check out line. Unlike my Kibbutz, this one is more privatized. At my Kibbutz and in our grocery store people who do not live on the kibbutz can come and buy things. At Kibbutz Ein Hashofet it is still closed to the public. When I went with Sierra they had to pay for us because we couldn’t pay with shekels. The living situation in Ein Hashofet was smaller, more intimate. My Kibbutz is the second largest in Israel so obviously the intimacy factor may be less intense.
Tomer, a friend from two years ago came to visit with a couple of his friends. We all met up at the pub, with all Sierra’s friends from her Ulpan. The live band was awesome and we all were dancing together for a few hours. Seeing old friends is one of my favorite things. I met some unique people. There were Christian Japanese students there learning Hebrew in order to study the Hebrew versions of the Bible. There were Poles, Russians, Australians, Crotians, etc. So many students who make aliyah (move to Israel to become a citizen- it literally means ‘to go up’) participate in Ulpan programs. The diversity blows my mind. We danced till dawn, just about literally. I think we came home around 4:30 in the morning.
The next day was a challenge. Everyone woke up around noon. Indulging in copious amounts of tea, water, and coffee, we layed out in the sun and relived the last night. I laughed so hard I got a stomach ache; especially when everyone passed around the pictures. We made a huge Israeli salad, courtesy of my gracious friend Sierra of fresh avocado’s from the fields there, onions, tomatoes and cucumbers. Hummus was included of course! Relaxing, enjoying each others company, catching up on flashcards and basking in the suns rays on the grassy area in front of their Ulpan complex- I was enjoying life. Afterwords, me and my new friend Al went on a walk to this tent on the Kibbutz because he wanted to purchase some artwork from this artist who lived there. I was rather confused. Why a tent? Someone lives on a tent here? As in, a camping tent? For their home? Why? Turns out, this amazingly relaxed Israeli couple in their late 20’s built this Mongolian tent house thing. Circular like a Circus Tent, the house had tons of rugs on the floor, artwork decorating the curved canvas walls, incense burning all lit dimly by the wood burning stove. We sat down on a futon, drank tea and caught up on the Kibbutz gossip , though I had no idea whom they were talking about. Then we got down to business, Al purchased some amazing paintings. Ali and I began our journey back to Rehovot, rather uneventful except for the hitching. We are getting really good at it here, and especially from a Kibbutz it is pretty safe. Overall an amazing weekend.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
the Arabs
What is the difference, truly between the way the Israeli’s view the world and the Arab-Israeli’s & Muslim Arabs of the Middle East view the world? I specify because trying to include the broader Jewish or Muslim communities in my explanation of the perspective I have experienced would be impossible and end in useless generalizations.
When I lived in Egypt, I used to get annoyed at the close mindedness I experienced on a daily basis. Looking back, this was unfair. The Arab Muslims I interacted with had huge hearts and welcoming arms, much like the Jews. The difference in my mind is mainly this- the Arab Muslims who come from the Middle East live in nations who are suppressed through governments leading under the guise of true Islam. Political Islam is the government. Its leaders and subsequently, its institutions claim sole legitimacy to true Islam. In this way, its people are raised in an environment where challenging the religion is challenging the state (and can result in serious consequences- ie. imprisonment).
The mindset is refined when Arabs turn on the TV and see images of American’s flying private jets, throwing sweet 16’s worth more than they make in a lifetime, and throwing away precious resources in the name of materialism. No wonder their images of us are what they are. The claims made by their governments, and in some cases religious authorities, are confirmed by the only contact they have with our culture: television, movies and magazines. Liberalism does not exist to the extent it does in America.
More to follow...
When I lived in Egypt, I used to get annoyed at the close mindedness I experienced on a daily basis. Looking back, this was unfair. The Arab Muslims I interacted with had huge hearts and welcoming arms, much like the Jews. The difference in my mind is mainly this- the Arab Muslims who come from the Middle East live in nations who are suppressed through governments leading under the guise of true Islam. Political Islam is the government. Its leaders and subsequently, its institutions claim sole legitimacy to true Islam. In this way, its people are raised in an environment where challenging the religion is challenging the state (and can result in serious consequences- ie. imprisonment).
The mindset is refined when Arabs turn on the TV and see images of American’s flying private jets, throwing sweet 16’s worth more than they make in a lifetime, and throwing away precious resources in the name of materialism. No wonder their images of us are what they are. The claims made by their governments, and in some cases religious authorities, are confirmed by the only contact they have with our culture: television, movies and magazines. Liberalism does not exist to the extent it does in America.
More to follow...
Thursday, March 11, 2010
East Jerusalem
Last week, while on my tour of Israel with EdHill Tours, I ventured out into Jerusalem, in search of Wifi. I led some others to buy vino and other things and then went my own way, ended up at CaféCafe while it poured buckets of water on my head.
A Palestinian friend came to meet me- we learned about each others beliefs: Religions, families and jobs- switching constantly between Arabic, English and Hebrew. I’m coming to a place where it’s really exciting for me to speak because I can have a decent conversation in either language. He took me to East Jerusalem- to a hookah café. It’s funny to note the immediate differences you see when you drive three blocks from Israel to East Jerusalem-signs all in Arabic, men and women in kufeyas, burqa’s and hijabs. The buildings, plants and streets are not as well kempt; crusty paint, crumbled chip bags, fewer lights and an aura of simplicity. There is an absence of aesthetics here- in much of the Arab world- big flashy, bright and new is not their style. Everyone is with families, working, or smoking nargila. Like Cairo, I was once again the only women in the entire café- we smoked and talked politics. I had to mentally change my brain to Arabic. Typical of the Arab cafés-- all men, a soccer game playing in the background, and men mumbling words back and forth between puffs. He explained his views of Israel to me. He says “the Jews took our land, kill our people. We fight with rocks to defend our homes that the settlers take and then shoot will guns.”
He also told me the Holocaust didn’t happen- that the numbers were exaggerated to a ridiculous degree and that Hitler had the right idea. It’s sad- but I have gotten used to hearing this from the other side. I obviously do not agree – if anything, I believe the Holocaust was covered up way more than we know. He later told me he had Jewish friends but absolutely hated the settlers. Not surprising.
A Palestinian friend came to meet me- we learned about each others beliefs: Religions, families and jobs- switching constantly between Arabic, English and Hebrew. I’m coming to a place where it’s really exciting for me to speak because I can have a decent conversation in either language. He took me to East Jerusalem- to a hookah café. It’s funny to note the immediate differences you see when you drive three blocks from Israel to East Jerusalem-signs all in Arabic, men and women in kufeyas, burqa’s and hijabs. The buildings, plants and streets are not as well kempt; crusty paint, crumbled chip bags, fewer lights and an aura of simplicity. There is an absence of aesthetics here- in much of the Arab world- big flashy, bright and new is not their style. Everyone is with families, working, or smoking nargila. Like Cairo, I was once again the only women in the entire café- we smoked and talked politics. I had to mentally change my brain to Arabic. Typical of the Arab cafés-- all men, a soccer game playing in the background, and men mumbling words back and forth between puffs. He explained his views of Israel to me. He says “the Jews took our land, kill our people. We fight with rocks to defend our homes that the settlers take and then shoot will guns.”
He also told me the Holocaust didn’t happen- that the numbers were exaggerated to a ridiculous degree and that Hitler had the right idea. It’s sad- but I have gotten used to hearing this from the other side. I obviously do not agree – if anything, I believe the Holocaust was covered up way more than we know. He later told me he had Jewish friends but absolutely hated the settlers. Not surprising.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Is Religion full of it?
I hope not.
On the Sea of Galilee: We sand Awesome God and the sky began clearing. I looked out over the lake to the mountains with the sun peeking out of the clouds and I felt something. Reaffirmation of the knowledge that a higher power exists.
Today we witnessed a messianic Jew and his wife renew their wedding vows. He did so because he wanted to do it in the eyes of God. I’m not sure how I feel about the beliefs held by Messianic Jews- I really am not judging, especially with my strange view of religion. But, I wonder how the Jewish community views Messianic Jews. Are the beliefs in Jesus' divinity and being Jewish mutually exclusive?
Throughout the tour, these are some of the questions that I had problems answering. Readers, feel free to jump in on these.
Questions about Christianity:
1. Where did the other people of the Earth come from? (When Cane went away to other lands and met other people who were not mentioned in the creation story)
2. Why is Christianity so exclusive?
3. How influential was the politics of the Papal Conferences on the decisions of which books to include in the bible?
4. Why are not all the books included so we can make our own educated conclusions about the Bible?
5. Where are the excluded books and why are they still hidden?
6. Mary Magdalene’s book and several others claim that Mary Magdalene was Jesus’ wife – if this is true, does this affect Jesus’ divinity/perfect-ness.
7. If humans are inherently imperfect where do we get the idea that church and its hierarchical and organizational leadership is legitimate? (Jesus didn’t start the church- it was started for more than 250 years after his death- Paul and other followers of Jesus created ‘the church’ off of their interpretations of what they thought. Jesus was a Jew. Are the idea’s mutually exclusive?)
8. The trinity- history says the Catholic Church added in the concept of “the spirit”- is that true?? If so, why was it added?
9. Is it possible to be a Christian and not believe Jesus rose from the dead?
10. If God really knows our hearts, why is the profession of faith so important?
11. Is structure necessary? What role does the physical church play in my spirituality versus say believing tenants of other religions and trusting in my faith?
I wish everything came easily to me. I just cannot blindly follow. I have to know, you know? I need the history, the facts. I realize faith is not concrete- that is what it is faith but foundations are important as well. Without them, I don't see a point to believing.
On the Sea of Galilee: We sand Awesome God and the sky began clearing. I looked out over the lake to the mountains with the sun peeking out of the clouds and I felt something. Reaffirmation of the knowledge that a higher power exists.
Today we witnessed a messianic Jew and his wife renew their wedding vows. He did so because he wanted to do it in the eyes of God. I’m not sure how I feel about the beliefs held by Messianic Jews- I really am not judging, especially with my strange view of religion. But, I wonder how the Jewish community views Messianic Jews. Are the beliefs in Jesus' divinity and being Jewish mutually exclusive?
Throughout the tour, these are some of the questions that I had problems answering. Readers, feel free to jump in on these.
Questions about Christianity:
1. Where did the other people of the Earth come from? (When Cane went away to other lands and met other people who were not mentioned in the creation story)
2. Why is Christianity so exclusive?
3. How influential was the politics of the Papal Conferences on the decisions of which books to include in the bible?
4. Why are not all the books included so we can make our own educated conclusions about the Bible?
5. Where are the excluded books and why are they still hidden?
6. Mary Magdalene’s book and several others claim that Mary Magdalene was Jesus’ wife – if this is true, does this affect Jesus’ divinity/perfect-ness.
7. If humans are inherently imperfect where do we get the idea that church and its hierarchical and organizational leadership is legitimate? (Jesus didn’t start the church- it was started for more than 250 years after his death- Paul and other followers of Jesus created ‘the church’ off of their interpretations of what they thought. Jesus was a Jew. Are the idea’s mutually exclusive?)
8. The trinity- history says the Catholic Church added in the concept of “the spirit”- is that true?? If so, why was it added?
9. Is it possible to be a Christian and not believe Jesus rose from the dead?
10. If God really knows our hearts, why is the profession of faith so important?
11. Is structure necessary? What role does the physical church play in my spirituality versus say believing tenants of other religions and trusting in my faith?
I wish everything came easily to me. I just cannot blindly follow. I have to know, you know? I need the history, the facts. I realize faith is not concrete- that is what it is faith but foundations are important as well. Without them, I don't see a point to believing.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
To Do in life/ في حياتي / בחיי
I plopped onto my bed the other day and decided to make a to do list. Not a to do today or tomorrow or even this year, but more or less a to do list for my life. However, I refuse to call it a bucket list. It is my list :) (Side note: additions occur on a weekly-ish basis. These are some of my favorites)
1. Go Spelunking
2. Get my Scuba Liscense
3. Discover my faith
4. Live and Work in another country
5. Climb Mt. Kilimanjaro
6. Visit Every Continent
7. Become conversational in 10 Languages (Hebrew, Arabic, Italian, Spanish, Turkish, Farsi, French, Afrikaans, Swahili, Chinese)
8. Fall in love (though obviously not planned)
9. Milk a cow
10. Model for an art class
11. Go Fishing
12. Attend a Bikram Yoga Retreat
13. Ride in a hot air balloon
1. Go Spelunking
2. Get my Scuba Liscense
3. Discover my faith
4. Live and Work in another country
5. Climb Mt. Kilimanjaro
6. Visit Every Continent
7. Become conversational in 10 Languages (Hebrew, Arabic, Italian, Spanish, Turkish, Farsi, French, Afrikaans, Swahili, Chinese)
8. Fall in love (though obviously not planned)
9. Milk a cow
10. Model for an art class
11. Go Fishing
12. Attend a Bikram Yoga Retreat
13. Ride in a hot air balloon
Monday, March 8, 2010
in the Dr's Office
Went into the city for my Dr’s appointment. I officially hate socialized medicine. I stood in line, not understanding the pages over the intercom. Sitting, rather dejectedly in the waiting room, staring to hear my number called, I was stared down by the old couples also waiting huddled together in their crouched over way. Finally got into the office, and of course my doctor and I have a bit of a language barrier. In baby Hebrew- as in “my foot is hurting me. The medicine did not work. I hurt.” I felt like I was in a film, slowly rewound to the first grade where I was sitting in a small chair glancing up at the big adult, unable to communicate what I want with the words I know. At least I am constantly humbled here haha!
After my appointment, I was shuffled to three other offices before I was told the next available appointment I was supposed to have for physical therapy was 6 weeks from that day. I laughed. And left. Fuming, I sat in Aroma, my favorite Israeli café and indulged in a soy Americano. Sitting with my computer I was pouting and this random Israeli woman sat down next to me and starts spitting out Hebrew faster than I could speak English! I said wooah slow down in Hebrew and she responded in English- she said I am a make up artist (just got back from a conference in LA about new products or something) and told me she’d pay me to come to Jerusalem so I could be in her portfolio. Kind of cool. We’ll see if it all plays out.
After my appointment, I was shuffled to three other offices before I was told the next available appointment I was supposed to have for physical therapy was 6 weeks from that day. I laughed. And left. Fuming, I sat in Aroma, my favorite Israeli café and indulged in a soy Americano. Sitting with my computer I was pouting and this random Israeli woman sat down next to me and starts spitting out Hebrew faster than I could speak English! I said wooah slow down in Hebrew and she responded in English- she said I am a make up artist (just got back from a conference in LA about new products or something) and told me she’d pay me to come to Jerusalem so I could be in her portfolio. Kind of cool. We’ll see if it all plays out.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
1 Thumb Up
Returned from my tour, my paradise. I felt so spoiled all week, in the very best way. I love love loved the tour and all the people who were part of it. Now back to reality on my Kibbutz. Work, study, relax, contemplate life and all the jazz.
March 3, 2010
I hitch hiked today. I had to get home and as a poor college student, I’d always contemplated the idea. So I took a bus to a major junction and with my bum ankle decided I didn’t want to walk, I hitched. Kind of unthinkable and stupid in America, but it’s pretty common here. This nice soldier picked me up and drove me to the Kibbutz. (I had a key/sharp pen ready just in case!)
March 3, 2010
I hitch hiked today. I had to get home and as a poor college student, I’d always contemplated the idea. So I took a bus to a major junction and with my bum ankle decided I didn’t want to walk, I hitched. Kind of unthinkable and stupid in America, but it’s pretty common here. This nice soldier picked me up and drove me to the Kibbutz. (I had a key/sharp pen ready just in case!)
Thursday, March 4, 2010
what do YOU believe?
I am reading the Faith Club, a very interesting book my mom surprised me with about three women from the Abrahamic faiths having intense interfaith dialogues- confronting stereotypes, misconceptions and perceptions of each other. The Jewish woman in the book was expressing her frustration at a lack of being able to just let go and trust. To have faith and to just know that you believe what you believe, to really trust in the religion and the principles you were raised with.
She said something that resonated with me. We have faith in so many things in our daily lives, with no guarantee of a future, we just blindly trust in the people, or ‘the institution’ and that all will turn out like we want to believe. Why then, do I have so much trouble making the leap of faith with God? I have faith in marriage, that I will marry an amazing man and stay married. I have faith in the love, acceptance and growth of my family. I have faith in my belief of a higher power. I have faith in the ideal of government, in meditation, in love itself, and in people. I have faith good will triumph over evil. So what is my problem with the God part of the equation?
I have issues with Jesus. I feel blasphemous for even saying it, for writing it, especially with how my parents have chosen to live their lives. They believe with every fiber of their being in the saving grace of Jesus. I don’t not believe that he existed, or that he was something amazing. But, frankly I don’t believe that he died and came back. I think that like so many things, people believe what makes them feel better. What they want to believe. The gospels, or at least many of them, were written long after Jesus’ death, with every intention of spreading the new religion of Christianity. If I was a disciple or follower of Christ, I would probably tweak the details a bit too, you know, to increase the awe and splendor of it. That, after all, is what draws so many people to God.: the inexplicable grace, wonder and acts that are beyond human.
I want to believe in Jesus. I want to feel validation for the spiritual/religious tenants I have been taught for the last 21 years of my life. I do believe in God. I believe that God, Allah, Adonai, and Krishna- that they are all one. God creates religions as a tool for his grace and beauty and purpose on earth. Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha, and the future messiah for the Jewish people present unique outlets of faith for ultimately the same end. Not one religion will appeal to everyone. People need different paths, different outlets of expressing their faith. That is why I love celebrating parts of each religion. I am not cherry picking the very best of everything to create some super religion. I just believe that inherently, all these religions have the same core. That there is truth to all of them, and that performing acts of kindness, going to my church, praying in a mosque and celebrating Shabbat all will bring me closer to the God I feel exists.
I find myself closest to my spiritual ‘high’ when I am appreciating nature. It is in nature that I see divinity and something more than what I can physically see. It just has to exist. Of that much I am sure. My trip with Christ Fellowship this week gave me back a piece of faith I have been missing for a long time. I'm still figuring everything out...it was quite a lot to absorb.
She said something that resonated with me. We have faith in so many things in our daily lives, with no guarantee of a future, we just blindly trust in the people, or ‘the institution’ and that all will turn out like we want to believe. Why then, do I have so much trouble making the leap of faith with God? I have faith in marriage, that I will marry an amazing man and stay married. I have faith in the love, acceptance and growth of my family. I have faith in my belief of a higher power. I have faith in the ideal of government, in meditation, in love itself, and in people. I have faith good will triumph over evil. So what is my problem with the God part of the equation?
I have issues with Jesus. I feel blasphemous for even saying it, for writing it, especially with how my parents have chosen to live their lives. They believe with every fiber of their being in the saving grace of Jesus. I don’t not believe that he existed, or that he was something amazing. But, frankly I don’t believe that he died and came back. I think that like so many things, people believe what makes them feel better. What they want to believe. The gospels, or at least many of them, were written long after Jesus’ death, with every intention of spreading the new religion of Christianity. If I was a disciple or follower of Christ, I would probably tweak the details a bit too, you know, to increase the awe and splendor of it. That, after all, is what draws so many people to God.: the inexplicable grace, wonder and acts that are beyond human.
I want to believe in Jesus. I want to feel validation for the spiritual/religious tenants I have been taught for the last 21 years of my life. I do believe in God. I believe that God, Allah, Adonai, and Krishna- that they are all one. God creates religions as a tool for his grace and beauty and purpose on earth. Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha, and the future messiah for the Jewish people present unique outlets of faith for ultimately the same end. Not one religion will appeal to everyone. People need different paths, different outlets of expressing their faith. That is why I love celebrating parts of each religion. I am not cherry picking the very best of everything to create some super religion. I just believe that inherently, all these religions have the same core. That there is truth to all of them, and that performing acts of kindness, going to my church, praying in a mosque and celebrating Shabbat all will bring me closer to the God I feel exists.
I find myself closest to my spiritual ‘high’ when I am appreciating nature. It is in nature that I see divinity and something more than what I can physically see. It just has to exist. Of that much I am sure. My trip with Christ Fellowship this week gave me back a piece of faith I have been missing for a long time. I'm still figuring everything out...it was quite a lot to absorb.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A Whole Lotta Jesus.
Started the morning off with the sermon on the Mt of Beatitudes. The pastor gave a sermon in this little chapel belonging to the Nuns who reside there because it was raining. Another church group was jammed inside the chapel within the chapel. Everything spoken made me think. About witnessing (I personally don’t believe in it), about how I view my life, if there is a will beyond what I can see, if anything at all exists, etc. We traveled onto Capernium and shockingly enough it rained on us. There, a Messianic Jew prayed in Hebrew and explained how his life was changed by Jesus Christ. I honestly had no idea what to think about it. We explored around the miracle triangle where 70% of the miracles in the New Testament happened. Everything beings to blend together, despite the magnificence of the separate sites.
February 27, 2010
This morning we took the boat from a dock near our hotel on the Sea of Galilee. Known as the Knerret in Israel, it literally means ‘a big harp’, which is the shape of the lake. It was pouring down rain all morning. Of course I am confined to wearing my Brikenstocks while I am here because I strained my tendon and can’t have any pressure on the back of my foot. Hence, my feet and Birks become sopping wet as we trudge through the puddles down towards the dock. We finally boarded the boat and started the morning off with a sermon from their preacher about Jesus and Peter walking on water, the storms, and some of the miracles performed around the lake. Hymns were sung, the usual Awesome God. (which the pastor didn’t know the words to which I found hilarious!- but in good way, he had a great sense of humor about it) We got to witness a couple who are Messianic Jews (Jews who believe Jesus is the Messiah) renew their wedding vows. It was a total surprise to his wife and it was a beautiful little ceremony on the lake. As the rains came down blowing through the plastic window-like coverings along the outer-rims of the boat we continued in song. The sun broke through the clouds just in time for the end of the wedding and was stunningly beautiful as it cast light over the surrounding areas of the lake, washed fresh anew with the spring rains. Everything here is in bloom because of the early hot weather we experienced early on. Mustard seeds, violet, thyme, daisies, even almond trees are blooming on the hillsides where the beginnings of Christianity sprouted thousands of years ago. I have really been challenged on this tour. I constantly question my beliefs, what I think is the correct approach to religion (for me) and the historical accuracy of religious texts. I spoke with the Pastor today, asked him if he takes the bible literally, short answer: yes. Long answer: looks at the Book of Revelations with a critical eye, which I thought was an interesting answer. The most amazing thing about this trip; whether or not I declare myself a believer in Jesus, which I still am questioning- experiencing this aspect of Israel from a Christian perspective has added a completely new dimension to my faith and understanding of a book I have read since I was a little girl. The Bible makes so much more sense to me now. The geographic dimensions, climate, pathways, and general influence of the area- it all clicked. I only wish my family had been with me for this. My Dad is such a history buff and I think it would’ve been great to ask him about how everything molds together, historically speaking.
Anyways we went to a Kibbutz afterwards for a look at a boat found from the first century. I was getting a soy Americano, my typical pick me-up. Ever since that darn country of Italy, I have been addicted to coffee. It started with the espresso families served me in the morning, continued with the coffee I drank daily before class at the American University in Cairo, and has been solidified by the free coffee provided by my Kibbutz. I am now addicted. And I love it. I love the smell of coffee, the shape of the beans, the colorful bags.
Ok, just checked myself. Wow. I wrote a paragraph of how much I love coffee. See what all this touring is doing to me? I am delirious in my sleepiness. (But still love coffee) Continuing, we visited ruins of a bathhouse and amphitheater near the Jordanian border. We literally passed the Jordanian flag and a military outpost. I got motion sickness so was more interested in what our tour guide so affectionately refers to as the “Peepee-tourium” than I was in the amphitheater. Thank the lord humans invented medicine- the Bonine returned me to my normal state. Lunch was at another Kibbutz, of fish and salads. Today was baptism day and just about everyone in the church got baptized in the Jordan River. I abstained. If I am ever baptized in the Jordan River I want it to be by my parents. Everyone was so moved by the experience, and I become the camera lad y. I think at one point I had 6 camera’s in my hands- snapping back and forth between the people dressed in their bathing suits draped in white robes. Now, I am absolutely exhausted. I can’t even be reflective about my religious experiences today. Out of all the people (and most are 50 and over) I am the old grandma. It’s my bedtime darn it, and I’m tired! So to bed I go. Tomorrow is Masada, the Dead Sea and Jerusalem at sunset.
February 27, 2010
This morning we took the boat from a dock near our hotel on the Sea of Galilee. Known as the Knerret in Israel, it literally means ‘a big harp’, which is the shape of the lake. It was pouring down rain all morning. Of course I am confined to wearing my Brikenstocks while I am here because I strained my tendon and can’t have any pressure on the back of my foot. Hence, my feet and Birks become sopping wet as we trudge through the puddles down towards the dock. We finally boarded the boat and started the morning off with a sermon from their preacher about Jesus and Peter walking on water, the storms, and some of the miracles performed around the lake. Hymns were sung, the usual Awesome God. (which the pastor didn’t know the words to which I found hilarious!- but in good way, he had a great sense of humor about it) We got to witness a couple who are Messianic Jews (Jews who believe Jesus is the Messiah) renew their wedding vows. It was a total surprise to his wife and it was a beautiful little ceremony on the lake. As the rains came down blowing through the plastic window-like coverings along the outer-rims of the boat we continued in song. The sun broke through the clouds just in time for the end of the wedding and was stunningly beautiful as it cast light over the surrounding areas of the lake, washed fresh anew with the spring rains. Everything here is in bloom because of the early hot weather we experienced early on. Mustard seeds, violet, thyme, daisies, even almond trees are blooming on the hillsides where the beginnings of Christianity sprouted thousands of years ago. I have really been challenged on this tour. I constantly question my beliefs, what I think is the correct approach to religion (for me) and the historical accuracy of religious texts. I spoke with the Pastor today, asked him if he takes the bible literally, short answer: yes. Long answer: looks at the Book of Revelations with a critical eye, which I thought was an interesting answer. The most amazing thing about this trip; whether or not I declare myself a believer in Jesus, which I still am questioning- experiencing this aspect of Israel from a Christian perspective has added a completely new dimension to my faith and understanding of a book I have read since I was a little girl. The Bible makes so much more sense to me now. The geographic dimensions, climate, pathways, and general influence of the area- it all clicked. I only wish my family had been with me for this. My Dad is such a history buff and I think it would’ve been great to ask him about how everything molds together, historically speaking.
Anyways we went to a Kibbutz afterwards for a look at a boat found from the first century. I was getting a soy Americano, my typical pick me-up. Ever since that darn country of Italy, I have been addicted to coffee. It started with the espresso families served me in the morning, continued with the coffee I drank daily before class at the American University in Cairo, and has been solidified by the free coffee provided by my Kibbutz. I am now addicted. And I love it. I love the smell of coffee, the shape of the beans, the colorful bags.
Ok, just checked myself. Wow. I wrote a paragraph of how much I love coffee. See what all this touring is doing to me? I am delirious in my sleepiness. (But still love coffee) Continuing, we visited ruins of a bathhouse and amphitheater near the Jordanian border. We literally passed the Jordanian flag and a military outpost. I got motion sickness so was more interested in what our tour guide so affectionately refers to as the “Peepee-tourium” than I was in the amphitheater. Thank the lord humans invented medicine- the Bonine returned me to my normal state. Lunch was at another Kibbutz, of fish and salads. Today was baptism day and just about everyone in the church got baptized in the Jordan River. I abstained. If I am ever baptized in the Jordan River I want it to be by my parents. Everyone was so moved by the experience, and I become the camera lad y. I think at one point I had 6 camera’s in my hands- snapping back and forth between the people dressed in their bathing suits draped in white robes. Now, I am absolutely exhausted. I can’t even be reflective about my religious experiences today. Out of all the people (and most are 50 and over) I am the old grandma. It’s my bedtime darn it, and I’m tired! So to bed I go. Tomorrow is Masada, the Dead Sea and Jerusalem at sunset.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Christian Tour
On the Christian tour now….we are singing a Christian song as I type. Feeling way out of place, but will figure it out. I’m just not used to the Christian stuff. The outward, tangible expressions of Christianity. Not that there aren’t any present at my church. But, where I come from, personal expression of religion is expressed in a more conservative manner. Maybe I have boxed myself into my creative interpretation of what I believe is Christianity. Anything outside of the comfort zone of Christianity I have created makes me highly uncomfortable.
Last night I met my roommate Debra Waldman who is friends with Peggy Knockman- an amaingly kind woman who used to babysit me when I was a little girl… such a small world. I immediately met three of the pastors of Christ Fellowship, his wife and the circle of people surrounding him. They were very welcoming as I waited for Meredith and Richard to arrive on the last bus. I met great people, whom were all exhausted from their flight from Florida. I dropped of my outrageous bright orange backpacking backpack in my amazingly large, spacious room across from the beach at the Dan Panorama hotel. I met my roommate who was surprised that I was there, funnily enough. (Apparently she wasn’t expecting me until next week) She is the sweetest lady, and introduced me to all her friends. We ate dinner together, chatted about what journeys in their lives brought them here, why they are taking this trip. One of the ladies was a Québécois and quite well traveled. Another was this tall blonde woman who reminded me of me a little. She loves traveling, adventure and was all about going for a walk, seeing the neighborhoods and going into the sketchy places where tourists really shouldn’t go. After a HUGE buffet dinner (as in ridiculously huge- extensive-aromatic- delicious-did I say huge?!?) I took everyone for a walk down the pier- showed them the main sights, pointed out the port and city of Yaffa and ended up explaining a lot of history that I knew about the area. For example, there are so many cats in Israel because when the British came to occupy Palestine they brought cats with them because there was such a large problem with rats. Ever since they brought them over after WW1 the cats have been breeding like rats (how ironic!) and overwhelm the streets.
I slept so well and boarded the bus after an overwhelming breakfast. We are now on our way to Caesarea. Here are some of the questions asked on the tour bus this morning: Is the name Jew derogatory? How long is the school day? What is Zionism? Are you Christian? What are main industries in Israel? How much is gas? (Answer $8.50/gallon) Everyone on my tour was genuinely sweet, one of my favorite characteristics of Christians in general; they tend to be such kind-hearted people, emanating an inner joy. We were divided into 5 buses and were off. Caesarea was beautiful, with seaside beaches which reminded me of Prince Edward Island. Gently jagged rocks with slow waves and bits of beach, the Roman amphitheater was beautifully positioned, conveniently located next to the ancient palace of King Herod. This king was manic-depressive and basically killed everyone who was close to him including his wife, children and advisors. The story of Paul was told about him witnessing. To be honest, I was confused with the Christian connection they were making except for the fact that a disciple Paul was put on trial here. The Pastor gave a great sermon that focused on sharing your faith, which I don’t necessarily agree with unless someone asks you about your personal beliefs, but I listened with an open mind and an attempt at an open heart. I am trying so passionately to figure out what I believe, why I am here and how the heck I have gotten here. How is it that, the girl who wanted to become a senator has lived abroad basically now for 4 semesters and wants to move abroad to work with NGO’s become me?
At lunch I sat with a sweet elderly lady who spoke with me about her life (literally the whole thing) over an hour of a falafel lunch. Another woman asked me if I spoke Jewish. I giggled. (But of course I said, yes I am learning to speak Hebrew.)
I want to believe what I believe because I believe it. While that may seem obvious, so many are Jewish, Christian or Muslim, Zoroastrian, or whatever, simply because that is the religion they were born into. Not me. My faith is just that, mine. To discover, to cradle, to hold, to honor, I want a faith to be confident in. I want to know why I believe something. But most importantly I want to know why I believe in this and not in all the other religions.
On the tour we saw Mt. Carmel, the valley of the Armageddon, the supposed sight of Earth’s final battle, the hill where Jesus was chased up because he read the wrong section of the Torah (and the Jews were not happy about him claiming to be a messiah- this Jesus boy they knew growing up with) and parts of Nazareth. Our bus almost fell off of this hill, which was a high point. We all had to disembark unload luggage out of the back of the bus so it wouldn’t fall over the side of the mountain, and get locals to assist us with tying ropes to the bottom of the van and all the men pulling it up. I’m waiting for some kind of feeling. I’m not expecting a burning bush God like appearance but I want a feeling, I want to be able to take that leap of faith into whatever I believe. It is starting to come together, to make sense. I’ll explain soon I suppose. (When it all becomes able to be expressed concisely)
Last night I met my roommate Debra Waldman who is friends with Peggy Knockman- an amaingly kind woman who used to babysit me when I was a little girl… such a small world. I immediately met three of the pastors of Christ Fellowship, his wife and the circle of people surrounding him. They were very welcoming as I waited for Meredith and Richard to arrive on the last bus. I met great people, whom were all exhausted from their flight from Florida. I dropped of my outrageous bright orange backpacking backpack in my amazingly large, spacious room across from the beach at the Dan Panorama hotel. I met my roommate who was surprised that I was there, funnily enough. (Apparently she wasn’t expecting me until next week) She is the sweetest lady, and introduced me to all her friends. We ate dinner together, chatted about what journeys in their lives brought them here, why they are taking this trip. One of the ladies was a Québécois and quite well traveled. Another was this tall blonde woman who reminded me of me a little. She loves traveling, adventure and was all about going for a walk, seeing the neighborhoods and going into the sketchy places where tourists really shouldn’t go. After a HUGE buffet dinner (as in ridiculously huge- extensive-aromatic- delicious-did I say huge?!?) I took everyone for a walk down the pier- showed them the main sights, pointed out the port and city of Yaffa and ended up explaining a lot of history that I knew about the area. For example, there are so many cats in Israel because when the British came to occupy Palestine they brought cats with them because there was such a large problem with rats. Ever since they brought them over after WW1 the cats have been breeding like rats (how ironic!) and overwhelm the streets.
I slept so well and boarded the bus after an overwhelming breakfast. We are now on our way to Caesarea. Here are some of the questions asked on the tour bus this morning: Is the name Jew derogatory? How long is the school day? What is Zionism? Are you Christian? What are main industries in Israel? How much is gas? (Answer $8.50/gallon) Everyone on my tour was genuinely sweet, one of my favorite characteristics of Christians in general; they tend to be such kind-hearted people, emanating an inner joy. We were divided into 5 buses and were off. Caesarea was beautiful, with seaside beaches which reminded me of Prince Edward Island. Gently jagged rocks with slow waves and bits of beach, the Roman amphitheater was beautifully positioned, conveniently located next to the ancient palace of King Herod. This king was manic-depressive and basically killed everyone who was close to him including his wife, children and advisors. The story of Paul was told about him witnessing. To be honest, I was confused with the Christian connection they were making except for the fact that a disciple Paul was put on trial here. The Pastor gave a great sermon that focused on sharing your faith, which I don’t necessarily agree with unless someone asks you about your personal beliefs, but I listened with an open mind and an attempt at an open heart. I am trying so passionately to figure out what I believe, why I am here and how the heck I have gotten here. How is it that, the girl who wanted to become a senator has lived abroad basically now for 4 semesters and wants to move abroad to work with NGO’s become me?
At lunch I sat with a sweet elderly lady who spoke with me about her life (literally the whole thing) over an hour of a falafel lunch. Another woman asked me if I spoke Jewish. I giggled. (But of course I said, yes I am learning to speak Hebrew.)
I want to believe what I believe because I believe it. While that may seem obvious, so many are Jewish, Christian or Muslim, Zoroastrian, or whatever, simply because that is the religion they were born into. Not me. My faith is just that, mine. To discover, to cradle, to hold, to honor, I want a faith to be confident in. I want to know why I believe something. But most importantly I want to know why I believe in this and not in all the other religions.
On the tour we saw Mt. Carmel, the valley of the Armageddon, the supposed sight of Earth’s final battle, the hill where Jesus was chased up because he read the wrong section of the Torah (and the Jews were not happy about him claiming to be a messiah- this Jesus boy they knew growing up with) and parts of Nazareth. Our bus almost fell off of this hill, which was a high point. We all had to disembark unload luggage out of the back of the bus so it wouldn’t fall over the side of the mountain, and get locals to assist us with tying ropes to the bottom of the van and all the men pulling it up. I’m waiting for some kind of feeling. I’m not expecting a burning bush God like appearance but I want a feeling, I want to be able to take that leap of faith into whatever I believe. It is starting to come together, to make sense. I’ll explain soon I suppose. (When it all becomes able to be expressed concisely)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Fieldtrip with the Jewish Agency
February 22 & 23, 2010
(I am) “in love with life... Intoxicated by its beauty, its potential, its thrill. “ Beautifully stated by Ranya Idlby, in The Faith Club- this may be the exact description of my outlook on life right now. Today was a rough day for me, a bit under the weather, I had to go to the orthopedic Doctor to get my foot checked out (turn’s out I sprained my Achilles’ tendon) and was rather lethargic throughout the day, in both mood and manor. I still tried to find the beauty in the place I’m living. Even today with my sniffles, it was easy to do. I snapped pictures of the rolling fields seemingly breathing life into the desert, blossoming with new fruits, lush green leaves and flowers bursting from the ground, yellow, cheerful, brightening the day with their vibrant colors. I love yellow roses, definitely my favorite flower, but alas I could not see any today. Parts of Israel remind me of bits of Italy. When I lived north of Rome, in Lavinio, there were fields upon fields of sunflowers turned towards the sun day after day. Here, I witness the same effect but the sunflowers of the Roman hills are replaced by the petite, springy daisies of Israel.
I reflected on two things today. The first, my trip to Jerusalem, and second, on the differences I believe are most prevalent between the Israeli’s and Arab Muslim’s of the region. This topic will not be covered in one, two or even three blogs. But I will do my best to give a concise snippet of the first topic today.
(NOTE: I have had some questions about my view on the issue of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, on my right to speak about events and perspectives which I was not born into, religiously speaking. I believe, as a true American I suppose, that it is my right to relay my perspective of my experiences in the Middle East. They are just that, my thoughts, reflections and perspective. I am not asking any readers to agree. I hope that by reading my blog (whoever may be doing so in this virtual world) is entertained, informed and maybe even at times, provoked to be thoughtful on issues of the region. That is all I can ask for. Any suggestions for topics you all are curious about, would like me to speak about- please feel free to email me at sarahkc@ufl.edu)
First, Jerusalem.
My class went on a field trip to Jerusalem today. Sponsored by the Jewish Agency, we are taken to the main sights of historical/religious importance in the Jewish faith. We began our trip to the Herzl Museum, which I had never visited before. Quaint and modern, the museum takes you through Herzl’s life in an interesting format- through a movie of them making a play of his life. Kind of confusing, but all in all quite informative. I made a comment to my friend about Herzl which left her open mouthed and gaping. I said, you know I’m not a huge fan of Herzl. My friend Judy looked at me like I was an alien. I said, “am I not allowed to say that?” And she replied simply, “umm...no. I don’t think so.” Partially joking I had stated this just to get a rise out of her, but in all actuality, I am a much bigger fan of Ben Gurion and his methods, especially the revival of Hebrew than I am of Herzl. Though, I must admit Herzl's book on the Jewish State is quite beautifully written. I learned about his life and impact, and at the end of the tour the message was Israeli’s development since its creation; the technological, agricultural and political achievements- which are astonishingly immense. Did you know Israeli technology invented much of the technology we use in cell phones, and even Intel processing chips? We journeyed afterwards towards YadVaShem, (in Hebrew yad=hand and vashem= and name) the Holocaust memorial museum in Jerusalem. This was my second visit there, but was probably doubly moving. As we walked through the entrance hall, the atmosphere held a tangible somberness. The museum is designed in a pyramid/triangular shape but is made so you must wind through all the halls, unable to go in a straight line—which parallels the inability of the Jewish people to reach the end they wanted so badly, forced to move back and forth, stopping and starting in different directions.
The museum hits on every sense; full of visual stimuli like the propaganda, shoes of children and actual train cars they used to transport people to the concentration camps. It is full of auditory stimuli, with survivors relaying stories of their accounts. The most moving for me, unable to be expressed in words, was a man recalling his story…he was told to line up at the edge of the ditches along with other men. The shots went off and he fell into the pit, shockingly unharmed. Laying there for hours, with bodies below and on top of him, he waited for silence, and crawled his way out of the pit along with one other survivor. Tears pouring down my face, I could not help but feel guilty for the atrocity of the Holocaust. Clearly an irrational feeling...but not being a Jew, or even one of the persecuted minorities, I wish I could’ve played a part in preventing these atrocities, and felt that somehow someone maybe I am related to had played some kind of part. Actually, my dad’s biological family were Polish Jews way back when, but still… though my own parents hadn’t even been born yet, I felt this sense of fish out of water-ness in the museum. While empathetic, I can never wholly understand these atrocities because they did not personally affect me or anyone I know. I was not born Jewish. The Holocaust plays such a major role in shaping the foreign policy and rationale of the Jewish State, and also in the minds of Jews all over the world.
Speaking with my friends here, in Eretz Israel, abroad, and back in the states, every time I have asked the question, do you think the Holocaust can happen again- I have been given the same answer. “Of course, that’s why we have Israel.” Fundamentally, the Jewish State acts as a refuge and safe haven for thousands who have been persecuted over the centuries. This is the place they are safe. This is the place where the Jews (technically) are the majority, and this is the place where the Jewish world is the norm- the Jewish calendar, holidays, culture, customs and religion- it all ties back to the ability to have a physical place of significant geographic magnitude to protect the people from the recurrence of an event like the Holocaust.
I was contemplative, thoughtful and significantly more somber all day- reflecting on the museum, the Holocaust and the events of the day. Dining in one of the national park on the well trimmed grass we enjoyed an al fresco lunch of typical Israeli foods.
We journeyed afterwards to the Old City to visit the Kotel (Christians know it as the Wailing wall) where we went behind the wall, visited the site of the Last Supper, the tomb of St. Peter and of course, the actual Kotel. All very moving. I had done most of these before on my tour when I was a student at the University of Haifa.
(I am) “in love with life... Intoxicated by its beauty, its potential, its thrill. “ Beautifully stated by Ranya Idlby, in The Faith Club- this may be the exact description of my outlook on life right now. Today was a rough day for me, a bit under the weather, I had to go to the orthopedic Doctor to get my foot checked out (turn’s out I sprained my Achilles’ tendon) and was rather lethargic throughout the day, in both mood and manor. I still tried to find the beauty in the place I’m living. Even today with my sniffles, it was easy to do. I snapped pictures of the rolling fields seemingly breathing life into the desert, blossoming with new fruits, lush green leaves and flowers bursting from the ground, yellow, cheerful, brightening the day with their vibrant colors. I love yellow roses, definitely my favorite flower, but alas I could not see any today. Parts of Israel remind me of bits of Italy. When I lived north of Rome, in Lavinio, there were fields upon fields of sunflowers turned towards the sun day after day. Here, I witness the same effect but the sunflowers of the Roman hills are replaced by the petite, springy daisies of Israel.
I reflected on two things today. The first, my trip to Jerusalem, and second, on the differences I believe are most prevalent between the Israeli’s and Arab Muslim’s of the region. This topic will not be covered in one, two or even three blogs. But I will do my best to give a concise snippet of the first topic today.
(NOTE: I have had some questions about my view on the issue of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, on my right to speak about events and perspectives which I was not born into, religiously speaking. I believe, as a true American I suppose, that it is my right to relay my perspective of my experiences in the Middle East. They are just that, my thoughts, reflections and perspective. I am not asking any readers to agree. I hope that by reading my blog (whoever may be doing so in this virtual world) is entertained, informed and maybe even at times, provoked to be thoughtful on issues of the region. That is all I can ask for. Any suggestions for topics you all are curious about, would like me to speak about- please feel free to email me at sarahkc@ufl.edu)
First, Jerusalem.
My class went on a field trip to Jerusalem today. Sponsored by the Jewish Agency, we are taken to the main sights of historical/religious importance in the Jewish faith. We began our trip to the Herzl Museum, which I had never visited before. Quaint and modern, the museum takes you through Herzl’s life in an interesting format- through a movie of them making a play of his life. Kind of confusing, but all in all quite informative. I made a comment to my friend about Herzl which left her open mouthed and gaping. I said, you know I’m not a huge fan of Herzl. My friend Judy looked at me like I was an alien. I said, “am I not allowed to say that?” And she replied simply, “umm...no. I don’t think so.” Partially joking I had stated this just to get a rise out of her, but in all actuality, I am a much bigger fan of Ben Gurion and his methods, especially the revival of Hebrew than I am of Herzl. Though, I must admit Herzl's book on the Jewish State is quite beautifully written. I learned about his life and impact, and at the end of the tour the message was Israeli’s development since its creation; the technological, agricultural and political achievements- which are astonishingly immense. Did you know Israeli technology invented much of the technology we use in cell phones, and even Intel processing chips? We journeyed afterwards towards YadVaShem, (in Hebrew yad=hand and vashem= and name) the Holocaust memorial museum in Jerusalem. This was my second visit there, but was probably doubly moving. As we walked through the entrance hall, the atmosphere held a tangible somberness. The museum is designed in a pyramid/triangular shape but is made so you must wind through all the halls, unable to go in a straight line—which parallels the inability of the Jewish people to reach the end they wanted so badly, forced to move back and forth, stopping and starting in different directions.
The museum hits on every sense; full of visual stimuli like the propaganda, shoes of children and actual train cars they used to transport people to the concentration camps. It is full of auditory stimuli, with survivors relaying stories of their accounts. The most moving for me, unable to be expressed in words, was a man recalling his story…he was told to line up at the edge of the ditches along with other men. The shots went off and he fell into the pit, shockingly unharmed. Laying there for hours, with bodies below and on top of him, he waited for silence, and crawled his way out of the pit along with one other survivor. Tears pouring down my face, I could not help but feel guilty for the atrocity of the Holocaust. Clearly an irrational feeling...but not being a Jew, or even one of the persecuted minorities, I wish I could’ve played a part in preventing these atrocities, and felt that somehow someone maybe I am related to had played some kind of part. Actually, my dad’s biological family were Polish Jews way back when, but still… though my own parents hadn’t even been born yet, I felt this sense of fish out of water-ness in the museum. While empathetic, I can never wholly understand these atrocities because they did not personally affect me or anyone I know. I was not born Jewish. The Holocaust plays such a major role in shaping the foreign policy and rationale of the Jewish State, and also in the minds of Jews all over the world.
Speaking with my friends here, in Eretz Israel, abroad, and back in the states, every time I have asked the question, do you think the Holocaust can happen again- I have been given the same answer. “Of course, that’s why we have Israel.” Fundamentally, the Jewish State acts as a refuge and safe haven for thousands who have been persecuted over the centuries. This is the place they are safe. This is the place where the Jews (technically) are the majority, and this is the place where the Jewish world is the norm- the Jewish calendar, holidays, culture, customs and religion- it all ties back to the ability to have a physical place of significant geographic magnitude to protect the people from the recurrence of an event like the Holocaust.
I was contemplative, thoughtful and significantly more somber all day- reflecting on the museum, the Holocaust and the events of the day. Dining in one of the national park on the well trimmed grass we enjoyed an al fresco lunch of typical Israeli foods.
We journeyed afterwards to the Old City to visit the Kotel (Christians know it as the Wailing wall) where we went behind the wall, visited the site of the Last Supper, the tomb of St. Peter and of course, the actual Kotel. All very moving. I had done most of these before on my tour when I was a student at the University of Haifa.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Uneventful Days
February 20, 2010
We woke up at 3pm. Basically there was no moving all day. We got coffee. Ate yogurt. Got more coffee. Watched Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 1 &2 and studied. That’s about it. Literally. The weather got cooler. That’s it.
February 21, 2010
Worked this morning, made the sandwiches for our class trip to Jerusalem tomorrow. Made like 70 sandwiches, washed apples, and chopped veggies. Didn’t feel so hot, but I don’t know why. I’m relaxing now after lunch and have class for 2 ½ hours in the afternoon. Getting ready to absorb hundreds more words into my brain. I think my brain very well may be turning into oatmeal.
We woke up at 3pm. Basically there was no moving all day. We got coffee. Ate yogurt. Got more coffee. Watched Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 1 &2 and studied. That’s about it. Literally. The weather got cooler. That’s it.
February 21, 2010
Worked this morning, made the sandwiches for our class trip to Jerusalem tomorrow. Made like 70 sandwiches, washed apples, and chopped veggies. Didn’t feel so hot, but I don’t know why. I’m relaxing now after lunch and have class for 2 ½ hours in the afternoon. Getting ready to absorb hundreds more words into my brain. I think my brain very well may be turning into oatmeal.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Shabbat in Ramle
I have known Reut since I lived in Haifa during the summer of 2008. She came and picked me up from my Kibbutz and we drove to her house which is situated in the heart of Ramle. Made of Jerusalem stone, her house spacious and lit became my home in Israel. Her family was excited to have me there- and I got to meet her whole family. Mom, Dad, two sisters a brother (who is 12 ½ ) and her grandmother who was visiting. Practicing my Hebrew, I greeted their grandmother. We relaxed for a bit, watched the Hills, which is apparently quite fascinating. My friend asked me, “does everyone in America live like this? I saw an episode when they flew a private jet to Mexico.” Of course immediately, my instinct was to defend Americans in general and promised her that our entire country was not completely comprised of girls like that.
We prepared the different appetizers- so many salads! Reut’s family is half Moroccan, so literally I think her mother had prepared 12 or so dishes (before Shabbat) of tapas for us to eat. The chetziliim was the best I had EVER had. Eggplant, mayo, garlic and spices- I don’t even eat mayonnaise and I could not help myself! We broke the challah and her father led the prayers. Murmuring the responses, the family all followed suit. Passing around the wine (guests sip first) and then by descending age order we all drank the wine. Then her father broke the challah and dipped it in salt. The reason: Our table is considered an altar (Ezekiel 41:22), and in the Holy Temple salt was offered together with every sacrifice (Leviticus 2:13). We dug into the food with her brothers and sisters all relaying the events of the day in quick Hebrew. I understood most of it. Dinner was full of giggling, lost in translation moments, and people unbuttoning the top button of their pants because her mother would not rest until we couldn’t get up from the table! I haven’t been that full since Italy, and honestly hate being that full. But, it was an experience. After dinner we all watched a movie together, her mother brought out MORE food- fresh nuts and strawberries- apparently to cleanse the palate for desert. (WHAT?!! More food??) We later had tea and lemon cake. Yeah, I know. I was invited to her brothers Bar Mitzvah in April and was told I was required to come back often. Her mother was so welcoming, gave me hugs all night and told me even when Reut is not there she expects me to come visit. I am officially obsessed with her family lol.
Her and her sister took us out to this club in Ramle- 24 and up. It was so nice to be surrounded by people who were our own ages, and a bit older. Relaxed in atmosphere, the club was chill, full of interesting people and great music. We danced all night, drank champagne and enjoyed the company of each other. It was definitely a girls night. The vibes in Israeli clubs are definitely different than in the US and Egypt as well. In Israel and Egypt actually, there is no grinding- that is strictly an American phenomenon. People sway, and dance face to face, like out of the movies instead of rubbing on each other which is the custom in the states. Quite refreshing actually. In Egypt, everyone who goes to the clubs are very wealthy, but smoking sheesha, getting VIP tables and talking is more the norm. In Israel, smoking cigarettes (Ew), dancing, talking loudly and shouting the lyrics is more the norm. It’s difficult to explain, but it is less of a pick up scene and more a setting where groups of friends and colleagues congregate and let loose. Came home late, and stayed up tucking the other girls in.
We prepared the different appetizers- so many salads! Reut’s family is half Moroccan, so literally I think her mother had prepared 12 or so dishes (before Shabbat) of tapas for us to eat. The chetziliim was the best I had EVER had. Eggplant, mayo, garlic and spices- I don’t even eat mayonnaise and I could not help myself! We broke the challah and her father led the prayers. Murmuring the responses, the family all followed suit. Passing around the wine (guests sip first) and then by descending age order we all drank the wine. Then her father broke the challah and dipped it in salt. The reason: Our table is considered an altar (Ezekiel 41:22), and in the Holy Temple salt was offered together with every sacrifice (Leviticus 2:13). We dug into the food with her brothers and sisters all relaying the events of the day in quick Hebrew. I understood most of it. Dinner was full of giggling, lost in translation moments, and people unbuttoning the top button of their pants because her mother would not rest until we couldn’t get up from the table! I haven’t been that full since Italy, and honestly hate being that full. But, it was an experience. After dinner we all watched a movie together, her mother brought out MORE food- fresh nuts and strawberries- apparently to cleanse the palate for desert. (WHAT?!! More food??) We later had tea and lemon cake. Yeah, I know. I was invited to her brothers Bar Mitzvah in April and was told I was required to come back often. Her mother was so welcoming, gave me hugs all night and told me even when Reut is not there she expects me to come visit. I am officially obsessed with her family lol.
Her and her sister took us out to this club in Ramle- 24 and up. It was so nice to be surrounded by people who were our own ages, and a bit older. Relaxed in atmosphere, the club was chill, full of interesting people and great music. We danced all night, drank champagne and enjoyed the company of each other. It was definitely a girls night. The vibes in Israeli clubs are definitely different than in the US and Egypt as well. In Israel and Egypt actually, there is no grinding- that is strictly an American phenomenon. People sway, and dance face to face, like out of the movies instead of rubbing on each other which is the custom in the states. Quite refreshing actually. In Egypt, everyone who goes to the clubs are very wealthy, but smoking sheesha, getting VIP tables and talking is more the norm. In Israel, smoking cigarettes (Ew), dancing, talking loudly and shouting the lyrics is more the norm. It’s difficult to explain, but it is less of a pick up scene and more a setting where groups of friends and colleagues congregate and let loose. Came home late, and stayed up tucking the other girls in.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Life and Death
Last night was Karaoke- oh boy. Never have I ever sung Karaoke! Until last night. I sang Bitch my Meredith Brooks- not even on purpose. I was considering it, going out of my box in an attempt to check something off of “the never have I ever” done list. The DJ thrust the microphone in my face and said sing when the song came on. It was a wireless microphone so she brought it to our table and we really had no choice. I had so much fun- got a little crazy and even sang another song, though I don’t remember which one. Ended up having an amazing time, bonding with some people I didn’t talk to before.
The next morning was Friday- I had to work. Right now, because my foot is hurt I am in charge of cleaning our area- the kitchen, bathrooms, etc. It took me forever to actually do it, slow from the night before. We laid around all day, ate lunch and then I went to this amazingly gorgeous field in the middle of the Kibbutz. I decided to take some me time and read, relax and nap. I am reading the book the Faith Club and I can’t even explain the extent to which that book has challenged me and forced me to examine my views of faith and religion; their importance and whether or not they are mutually exclusive. I had this amazingly deep conversation in my head. I was contemplating death, and reading about the Jewish perspective of it. My thought process was basically this: I do not think I believe in a heaven or in a hell per se. I read this thing about a Rabbi asking what happens when people die, where the matter goes and what happens to the soul. This spurred a whole thought process- when we die, our bodies disintegrate. BUT- if abiding by the law of conservation of energy {matter is neither created nor destroyed- but only transferred} then we do not cease to exist. The energy, the pulsating force and atoms of what was once our bodies lives on. Our energy is merely passed on to create magnificence in this world in another form. Whether it be through a rain drop, slowly falling to the ground or in a strong breeze rushing across the plains. Peoples’ energy forces are transferred into the bits of nature that emanate their same intensity and spirit. Quiet people are reflected in the calming properties of nature and the fierce, intense people of the world, their energy so great, must be transferred to things like waterfalls and thunderstorms.
I fell asleep after having this strange revelation and dreamt about the energies of the world and how they are intertwined. This dream was all in colors and energies- impossible to explain. I woke up, went back to the room, did some homework and had a conversation with this guy who is from Hungary. I asked him about his heritage, his background, and if he was Jewish. His family is Jewish, at least in the historical sense of the word. His family doesn’t associate with the Jews, or the fact that their family has always been Jewish. After the Holocaust he explained, their family changed their name and have not associated with it since! I found that so interesting.
I went back to the room, contemplative of the extent of the atrocities committed in the Holocaust , did some homework and then got ready to go celebrate Shabbat at my friend Reut’s home in Ramle.
The next morning was Friday- I had to work. Right now, because my foot is hurt I am in charge of cleaning our area- the kitchen, bathrooms, etc. It took me forever to actually do it, slow from the night before. We laid around all day, ate lunch and then I went to this amazingly gorgeous field in the middle of the Kibbutz. I decided to take some me time and read, relax and nap. I am reading the book the Faith Club and I can’t even explain the extent to which that book has challenged me and forced me to examine my views of faith and religion; their importance and whether or not they are mutually exclusive. I had this amazingly deep conversation in my head. I was contemplating death, and reading about the Jewish perspective of it. My thought process was basically this: I do not think I believe in a heaven or in a hell per se. I read this thing about a Rabbi asking what happens when people die, where the matter goes and what happens to the soul. This spurred a whole thought process- when we die, our bodies disintegrate. BUT- if abiding by the law of conservation of energy {matter is neither created nor destroyed- but only transferred} then we do not cease to exist. The energy, the pulsating force and atoms of what was once our bodies lives on. Our energy is merely passed on to create magnificence in this world in another form. Whether it be through a rain drop, slowly falling to the ground or in a strong breeze rushing across the plains. Peoples’ energy forces are transferred into the bits of nature that emanate their same intensity and spirit. Quiet people are reflected in the calming properties of nature and the fierce, intense people of the world, their energy so great, must be transferred to things like waterfalls and thunderstorms.
I fell asleep after having this strange revelation and dreamt about the energies of the world and how they are intertwined. This dream was all in colors and energies- impossible to explain. I woke up, went back to the room, did some homework and had a conversation with this guy who is from Hungary. I asked him about his heritage, his background, and if he was Jewish. His family is Jewish, at least in the historical sense of the word. His family doesn’t associate with the Jews, or the fact that their family has always been Jewish. After the Holocaust he explained, their family changed their name and have not associated with it since! I found that so interesting.
I went back to the room, contemplative of the extent of the atrocities committed in the Holocaust , did some homework and then got ready to go celebrate Shabbat at my friend Reut’s home in Ramle.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Khedva, the teacher.
Hebrew class begins at 8am. My teacher, Khedva, is a little scatterbrained and quite typically Israeli. Her classes are a little scattered, but you can tell she is passionate about what she does, which is nice. I am in this awkward phase because the class is moving slower than my level, but my two girlfriends have a much higher database of vocabulary than I have. So I am in this weird middle level too high for one class and too low for the other. Meh. Anyways so I ended up buying the easier book and reviewing it all myself. Today, I did 70 pages, which is a little bit hard to believe.
Today was really interesting because my Arab friends from next door (who are building the new houses on the kibbutz, near our dorms) brought me a whole plate of kunefa! Unfortunately, it was so delicious I had way too much! Kunefa is my weak point, definitely. I shared it with everyone and they loved it too. My friend, Avrahim wants to take us around Nablus and be our tour guide. Haven’t decided if that is a good idea yet or not, but an interesting proposition nonetheless. The men over there speak Arabic, Hebrew and even a little English, so when I speak to them we simultaneously switch between the languages. Often times, my brain hurts afterwards. It was one of the first times I have been able to speak to people who understand all the languages that are popping out of my mouth. We talked about where I lived in Cairo, why I am here, why I am studying Arabic and Hebrew, etc. They were such nice people and are forever on my good list because they brought me such delicious kunefa!
I speak with some of my friends here, and they constantly warn me about interacting with ‘Arabs.’ They claim there is a different mindset, a different outlook. I actually agree; from what I experienced in the Arab World (and the Muslim parts of the Middle East) there is definitely a different perspective of the world that is more prevalent in Arab eyes than in Israeli/Western eyes. Funny thing is, I really don’t care. I love the differences. I love feeling a little awkward trying to explain something in Arabic. I love being an anomaly in the Middle East. I love that people are really confused when they discover that I am not Jewish, nor Muslim and am here simply to learn about the languages and religions of the region. I look at the differences as something to be learned about, to attempt to understand: not as a fence or an excuse for social separation.
Lastly, I accomplished something pretty amazing. Something I never thought I would ever be able to do in my whole life. It may not seem like much to the rest of the world, but for me, today was a personal triumph. Today, I climbed a 10 foot rope (4 times!!!) that we have in the workout area. There were no knots in the rope on the way up, just straight rope. Who knew I had that much upper body strength?!?! I did it twice using my right leg dominantly and twice with my left. Sadly, I have serious rope burn because I wasn’t wearing shoes—but it was definitely worth it. Goal: By the end of these 5 months- do it using only my arms- no legs at all!
Tonight is Karaoke night at the pub.
Today was really interesting because my Arab friends from next door (who are building the new houses on the kibbutz, near our dorms) brought me a whole plate of kunefa! Unfortunately, it was so delicious I had way too much! Kunefa is my weak point, definitely. I shared it with everyone and they loved it too. My friend, Avrahim wants to take us around Nablus and be our tour guide. Haven’t decided if that is a good idea yet or not, but an interesting proposition nonetheless. The men over there speak Arabic, Hebrew and even a little English, so when I speak to them we simultaneously switch between the languages. Often times, my brain hurts afterwards. It was one of the first times I have been able to speak to people who understand all the languages that are popping out of my mouth. We talked about where I lived in Cairo, why I am here, why I am studying Arabic and Hebrew, etc. They were such nice people and are forever on my good list because they brought me such delicious kunefa!
I speak with some of my friends here, and they constantly warn me about interacting with ‘Arabs.’ They claim there is a different mindset, a different outlook. I actually agree; from what I experienced in the Arab World (and the Muslim parts of the Middle East) there is definitely a different perspective of the world that is more prevalent in Arab eyes than in Israeli/Western eyes. Funny thing is, I really don’t care. I love the differences. I love feeling a little awkward trying to explain something in Arabic. I love being an anomaly in the Middle East. I love that people are really confused when they discover that I am not Jewish, nor Muslim and am here simply to learn about the languages and religions of the region. I look at the differences as something to be learned about, to attempt to understand: not as a fence or an excuse for social separation.
Lastly, I accomplished something pretty amazing. Something I never thought I would ever be able to do in my whole life. It may not seem like much to the rest of the world, but for me, today was a personal triumph. Today, I climbed a 10 foot rope (4 times!!!) that we have in the workout area. There were no knots in the rope on the way up, just straight rope. Who knew I had that much upper body strength?!?! I did it twice using my right leg dominantly and twice with my left. Sadly, I have serious rope burn because I wasn’t wearing shoes—but it was definitely worth it. Goal: By the end of these 5 months- do it using only my arms- no legs at all!
Tonight is Karaoke night at the pub.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Day to Day
Today class was really interesting. Though, I was partially distracted by skyping with someone while I was in class. Oops. It was worth it. Anyways, learned a lot today- we had a huge review session and I’m learning so many new words. I came back after walking around the Kibbutz with Ali and the water to our building was shut off. Great. There were Arab workers working on the buildings next door and of course everyone was thinking we should go talk to them to fix the problem. So I volunteered my Arabic skills, in an attempt to practice some more Arabic- since I have been completely deprived. We solved the problem- yay! I communicated that our building needed water so they turned it back on AND I really really have been craving Kunefa (an Arabic dessert) here and its not good here. These guys are bringing me some tomorrow- thank God! I have been craving it ever since I left Egypt!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
HaYom Yom Revee-ee.
Last night, for Valentines Day the girls decided to indulge in a girls night and buy 4 different kinds of chocolate. We LOVED it. ☺ It was Ash’s birthday last night so we Nate built a bonfire and we all gathered around, listened to music, relaxed and got a little crazy.
I hurt my foot when I was running and now I must get x-rays. Which kind of stinks. They switched my job with Judy so I cleaned the general dorm area today; the bathrooms, kitchen and our living area (המואדון ). It was so exhilarated to clean. I can’t explain it- but it was almost theraputic,to clean our communal living area, to erase the grime and make it pristine for the rest of the people here. I was jamming with my headphones in, dancing with the mops and swishing the window wipers to my music. People would randomly walk in on me and laugh, but it made it so much more fun. I listened to Don’t Rain on My Parade and think that has officially become my theme song this week. Just saying. Right now I am listening to Christmas music! Random I suppose for February, but it makes me nostalgic of home and Jupiter First.
At the lunch hall today, the girls ate by ourselves and the huge boys table chowed into their food. {We are not separated by gender, it just so happens that is the way it is because of the amount of chairs.} I watched the people interact- (my favorite hobby) and witnessed budding relationships. There was an old couple sitting next to each other, and there was this moment when then locked us, squeezed hands and then continued talking with friends. It made me realize that that is the kind of love I want when I’m too old to wipe my own bottom. I saw workers exhausted but managing to keep a smile on their faces and relay the current events and politics of the Kibbutz. Then there are the little kids, cute as ever, who get their trays, line up with their little bowl of soup and crackers or little pile of food and sit down with their families.
Tonight everyone went to the bar and I am staying home. It was such a long day and I have so much catching up to do on my Hebrew/Arabic. Relaxing is so nice when you are alone. Its taken me 21 years to finally figure that. Relaxing is not being unproductive. It is relaxing.
Ali and I are officially invited to this family’s house for Shabbat dinner which I am really excited about- don’t know when yet, but I am looking forward to another Shabbat dinner.
Ali and I discussed today how excited we are to get off the Kibbutz on the weekends. It is definitely not that I don’t appreciate where I am, what I am learning and the seclusion it offers but getting outside to practice my Hebrew and absorb more of the cultural nuances is what I am truly interested in. Also, out program director doesn’t go out of his way to tell us about opportunities at the Kibbutz. We learned there are basketball games among the Kibbutzim that we can go watch, tennis lessons, horseback riding lessons and so much more! So we are going to jump into all of those exciting little lessons.
I hurt my foot when I was running and now I must get x-rays. Which kind of stinks. They switched my job with Judy so I cleaned the general dorm area today; the bathrooms, kitchen and our living area (המואדון ). It was so exhilarated to clean. I can’t explain it- but it was almost theraputic,to clean our communal living area, to erase the grime and make it pristine for the rest of the people here. I was jamming with my headphones in, dancing with the mops and swishing the window wipers to my music. People would randomly walk in on me and laugh, but it made it so much more fun. I listened to Don’t Rain on My Parade and think that has officially become my theme song this week. Just saying. Right now I am listening to Christmas music! Random I suppose for February, but it makes me nostalgic of home and Jupiter First.
At the lunch hall today, the girls ate by ourselves and the huge boys table chowed into their food. {We are not separated by gender, it just so happens that is the way it is because of the amount of chairs.} I watched the people interact- (my favorite hobby) and witnessed budding relationships. There was an old couple sitting next to each other, and there was this moment when then locked us, squeezed hands and then continued talking with friends. It made me realize that that is the kind of love I want when I’m too old to wipe my own bottom. I saw workers exhausted but managing to keep a smile on their faces and relay the current events and politics of the Kibbutz. Then there are the little kids, cute as ever, who get their trays, line up with their little bowl of soup and crackers or little pile of food and sit down with their families.
Tonight everyone went to the bar and I am staying home. It was such a long day and I have so much catching up to do on my Hebrew/Arabic. Relaxing is so nice when you are alone. Its taken me 21 years to finally figure that. Relaxing is not being unproductive. It is relaxing.
Ali and I are officially invited to this family’s house for Shabbat dinner which I am really excited about- don’t know when yet, but I am looking forward to another Shabbat dinner.
Ali and I discussed today how excited we are to get off the Kibbutz on the weekends. It is definitely not that I don’t appreciate where I am, what I am learning and the seclusion it offers but getting outside to practice my Hebrew and absorb more of the cultural nuances is what I am truly interested in. Also, out program director doesn’t go out of his way to tell us about opportunities at the Kibbutz. We learned there are basketball games among the Kibbutzim that we can go watch, tennis lessons, horseback riding lessons and so much more! So we are going to jump into all of those exciting little lessons.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Shabbat, the War, and John Lennon
So, the weekend continued, we had Shabbat dinner- I left with a protruding belly and a new family of amazing people. The boys then took us out to a bar and a Russian club, both interesting experiences in the heart of Jerusalem. Russian immigrants here (Olim Hadashim=New Immigrants) are everywhere, and throughout the city you can see the effects of each homeland of the Jews and the richiness it weaves into the tapestry of the Jewish Homeland. Ethiopoian Jews, Russian Jews, American, Australian and French Jews. They all come with the same passion, wanting to share the dream of a unified Jewish people- a land where the Jews are safe.
Interestingly enough, I often talk to my friends here about contentious Jewish issues. The question that intrigues me most is ‘Do you think the Holocaust can/will happen again.’ Every time the answer surprises me- a resounding ‘yes.’ “It happened once, it can happen again. “ Or “it only happened 60-some years ago.” Maybe because I didn’t experiene this horrific event in the same way my friends here had, I still am in shock that a thing like this could happen again. I see Rwanda, Darfur, Armenia- all these devastating instances of humanity at its lowest and I wonder. If the world could let something as atrocious as the holocaust happen once, Darfur happen again, when will we learn to stand up and say no? At what point is intervention necessary to avoid things like this? At what point in history will this ever stop?
It makes me thing of Imagine- by John Lennon.
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
“Never forget, always remember.” As I sat in the bus station in Jerusalem, a sweet elderly Israeli Lady leaned over my shoulder looking at my flashcards. I was learning the word forget. She looked at me and said “Never forget, always remember,” (referencing the holocaust) She said, “honey now do you understand the phrase? Remember your past. Never forget the tragedies of the world. This is what the Jews mean. This is what we mean.”
Interestingly enough, I often talk to my friends here about contentious Jewish issues. The question that intrigues me most is ‘Do you think the Holocaust can/will happen again.’ Every time the answer surprises me- a resounding ‘yes.’ “It happened once, it can happen again. “ Or “it only happened 60-some years ago.” Maybe because I didn’t experiene this horrific event in the same way my friends here had, I still am in shock that a thing like this could happen again. I see Rwanda, Darfur, Armenia- all these devastating instances of humanity at its lowest and I wonder. If the world could let something as atrocious as the holocaust happen once, Darfur happen again, when will we learn to stand up and say no? At what point is intervention necessary to avoid things like this? At what point in history will this ever stop?
It makes me thing of Imagine- by John Lennon.
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
“Never forget, always remember.” As I sat in the bus station in Jerusalem, a sweet elderly Israeli Lady leaned over my shoulder looking at my flashcards. I was learning the word forget. She looked at me and said “Never forget, always remember,” (referencing the holocaust) She said, “honey now do you understand the phrase? Remember your past. Never forget the tragedies of the world. This is what the Jews mean. This is what we mean.”
Monday, February 15, 2010
Shabbas in the Holy City
Today is Valentines Day! Happy Love, I say. I’m on my work break and catching up on my blog. This morning I am working in the shrubs. We are digging out these fern looking things, plucking out root by root, getting down with mother Earth. God, I am such a nerd. Anyways, last night we got back from this crazy weekend in Jerusalem.
We left on Friday after class, gathered our stuff, ate some decent cafeteria food and hopped in a cab to the train station. We were supposed to stay with my friend at his friends place but as we were on our way to the train station, he called and apparently his friends got in trouble in the army and had to stay on base. Which meant for us at least, that we were S.o.l. Of course we start freaking out…but decide to be spontaneous and still go. We figure it’ll be an adventure. We start calling all the people we know in Jerusalem- and end up staying with Emily’s friend Arik. We took the train, which has the most scenic beautiful route from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. The tracks wind through the rocky hills full of pine trees. At the bottom of the hills is a river (maybe the Jordan?) which snakes through the valley with lambs munching on the blossoming pastures.
Upon arrival in Jerusalem, right before Shabbat, we disembarked and found a cab and drove over to Arik’s house. It was so nice- in the suburbs of the Holy City. Driving into Jerusalem was deja-vu for me. The looming white Jerusalem stone is one of those striking visuals that your mind never forgets. I could see the wall separating the Palestinians from the Israeli’s, so depressing.
The boys had cleaned the whole apartment for us, gave us three beds and made us feel right at home! We ended up passing out for a few hours and then the boys woke us up for Shabbat. We split up, I went to Mayor’s house for dinner with him and Yosi and Emily went to Arik’s while Ali slept. Going to Shabbat at his house was entertaining- of course I understood about 50% of what they were talking about- generally I understand the topic- but miss the nuances/small details. His family was so welcoming, open arms, big hugs and huge smiles welcoming me for Shabbas. (Shabbas is the Ashkenazi reference to Shabbat- where as Shabbat comes from the Sephardic Jews) We ate this amazing meat with potatoes and fresh vegetables. They all said the prayer, which I didn’t know…It was a little awkward. Then he blessed the wine and challah and we all ate. I loved speaking with his two younger sisters, who were so eager to practice their English. We drank, laughed, indulged and shared stories for hours. For desert, we ate Pomella, an Israeli fruit. It is a genetic combination of grapefruit and oranges and is extremely delicious. We watched the evening news and listened to the stories (in Hebrew of course) about the children who’s legs were either shot off/blown up as a result of the Intifada’s. Hearing their reaction, seeing the families and hearing the other side again snapped me back to the full reality of the situation. There is no right side. It is so difficult trying to explain to people what I am passionate about and why I want to work here, with Palestinians and Israeli’s. Seeing children like this (on both sides) probably best explains why. The pain, the conflict, the struggles that are experienced here on a daily basis have the potential to change. I hope one day we can learn how to achieve this end. Mayor’s family was tearing up, clearly distraught at the trauma this brings into all Israeli’s daily lives.
Before I arrived to Arik’s, the girls and I had discussed my ‘religion.’ Which is, I suppose, up in the air- religious background I can talk about. My beliefs, I’m still working on. Anyways, it is such a pain when everyone and their mother asks me if I am Jewish to explain why I am here, why I like Israle, what I’m studying, what I belive, etc. sometimes when people ask me if I’m Jewish in the grocery store or whatever I just kind of nod and go along with it. Explaining in depth every time gets a bit tiring. So anyways, this weekend, at the end of Shabbat dinner, their family asked me if I was Jewish. I awkwardly did a side nod- like a yes/no thing. I lied. I know, it’s awful. I hate lying; I have officially decided, even for convenience, I just can’t not say what and who I am. I may not know exactly who I am, but I know what I am not. I do not like lying, and I am proud of where I come from and my reasons for being here. From now on, no more side-winding around the question.
We left on Friday after class, gathered our stuff, ate some decent cafeteria food and hopped in a cab to the train station. We were supposed to stay with my friend at his friends place but as we were on our way to the train station, he called and apparently his friends got in trouble in the army and had to stay on base. Which meant for us at least, that we were S.o.l. Of course we start freaking out…but decide to be spontaneous and still go. We figure it’ll be an adventure. We start calling all the people we know in Jerusalem- and end up staying with Emily’s friend Arik. We took the train, which has the most scenic beautiful route from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. The tracks wind through the rocky hills full of pine trees. At the bottom of the hills is a river (maybe the Jordan?) which snakes through the valley with lambs munching on the blossoming pastures.
Upon arrival in Jerusalem, right before Shabbat, we disembarked and found a cab and drove over to Arik’s house. It was so nice- in the suburbs of the Holy City. Driving into Jerusalem was deja-vu for me. The looming white Jerusalem stone is one of those striking visuals that your mind never forgets. I could see the wall separating the Palestinians from the Israeli’s, so depressing.
The boys had cleaned the whole apartment for us, gave us three beds and made us feel right at home! We ended up passing out for a few hours and then the boys woke us up for Shabbat. We split up, I went to Mayor’s house for dinner with him and Yosi and Emily went to Arik’s while Ali slept. Going to Shabbat at his house was entertaining- of course I understood about 50% of what they were talking about- generally I understand the topic- but miss the nuances/small details. His family was so welcoming, open arms, big hugs and huge smiles welcoming me for Shabbas. (Shabbas is the Ashkenazi reference to Shabbat- where as Shabbat comes from the Sephardic Jews) We ate this amazing meat with potatoes and fresh vegetables. They all said the prayer, which I didn’t know…It was a little awkward. Then he blessed the wine and challah and we all ate. I loved speaking with his two younger sisters, who were so eager to practice their English. We drank, laughed, indulged and shared stories for hours. For desert, we ate Pomella, an Israeli fruit. It is a genetic combination of grapefruit and oranges and is extremely delicious. We watched the evening news and listened to the stories (in Hebrew of course) about the children who’s legs were either shot off/blown up as a result of the Intifada’s. Hearing their reaction, seeing the families and hearing the other side again snapped me back to the full reality of the situation. There is no right side. It is so difficult trying to explain to people what I am passionate about and why I want to work here, with Palestinians and Israeli’s. Seeing children like this (on both sides) probably best explains why. The pain, the conflict, the struggles that are experienced here on a daily basis have the potential to change. I hope one day we can learn how to achieve this end. Mayor’s family was tearing up, clearly distraught at the trauma this brings into all Israeli’s daily lives.
Before I arrived to Arik’s, the girls and I had discussed my ‘religion.’ Which is, I suppose, up in the air- religious background I can talk about. My beliefs, I’m still working on. Anyways, it is such a pain when everyone and their mother asks me if I am Jewish to explain why I am here, why I like Israle, what I’m studying, what I belive, etc. sometimes when people ask me if I’m Jewish in the grocery store or whatever I just kind of nod and go along with it. Explaining in depth every time gets a bit tiring. So anyways, this weekend, at the end of Shabbat dinner, their family asked me if I was Jewish. I awkwardly did a side nod- like a yes/no thing. I lied. I know, it’s awful. I hate lying; I have officially decided, even for convenience, I just can’t not say what and who I am. I may not know exactly who I am, but I know what I am not. I do not like lying, and I am proud of where I come from and my reasons for being here. From now on, no more side-winding around the question.
Feb 11. 2010
I went out to the city with the girls into the market after my classes today. bought some fresh figs and nuts :) and tried all these fresh cheeses and strawberries! All these men of course offered us free tastings and Emily, adorable as ever, would sneak all these little snippits of food from all the stalls. The best thing about the Middle East is by far the fresh out door markets; and of course, the languages.
I translated all of my Hebrew notes into Arabic last night (6 pages of vocabulary!!) which is really great. I am hoping I can keep it up to maintain my proficiency in both languages. Its basically double the work load.
I translated all of my Hebrew notes into Arabic last night (6 pages of vocabulary!!) which is really great. I am hoping I can keep it up to maintain my proficiency in both languages. Its basically double the work load.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Graveyards and Rakes and Trees Oh My!
Today I worked in the graveyard. I was unhappy, to say the least. I found out that I was going to be working there, and immediately my mind wandered to decomposition. Gross, I know, but what would you think of if you were to work among the graves? I don’t know why I started freaking out, but as I walked toward the graveyard, I started crying, which is quite unusual for me. Seriously, fah-reak-ing out.
I suppose the only cemetery I have ever visited was when my amazing friend Scott passed away when I was seventeen. Hence, the association is depressing. We walked to just outside of the gates of the Kibbutz into a graveyard which has been in place since the beginning of the Kibbutz.
I was responsible for weeding around the graves, as in right up around the big cement box sticking out of the ground. I am extremely uncomfortable with this, but decided to force myself, teary or not, to go out of my comfort zone and figure out why I was so uncomfortable. Cleaning a cemetery, or tending to the graves is supposed to be a mitzvah. My friends kept trying to qualm my nerves by claiming the goodness of my actions, but at that point I wasn’t caring as much about that as the dead bodies surrounding me. I ended up surviving the day by plugging in my ipod and completely zoning out. I finally calmed down about two hours into work and decided to keep my stress level down by jamming out. I jammed my way through two Glee CD’s and finally started to appreciate the mitzvah I was taking part in. It really is a beautiful thing to cherish and tidy graves. Respecting ones we love and holding up their memories is something beautiful.
This year marks the 80th anniversary of the creation of Kibbutz Na’an. I am excited because our director told us about a variety of events that will be taking place this year because of the year long celebration. We get to have concerts, religious celebrations and our Kibbutz has the largest celebration of Passover in Israel.
I suppose the only cemetery I have ever visited was when my amazing friend Scott passed away when I was seventeen. Hence, the association is depressing. We walked to just outside of the gates of the Kibbutz into a graveyard which has been in place since the beginning of the Kibbutz.
I was responsible for weeding around the graves, as in right up around the big cement box sticking out of the ground. I am extremely uncomfortable with this, but decided to force myself, teary or not, to go out of my comfort zone and figure out why I was so uncomfortable. Cleaning a cemetery, or tending to the graves is supposed to be a mitzvah. My friends kept trying to qualm my nerves by claiming the goodness of my actions, but at that point I wasn’t caring as much about that as the dead bodies surrounding me. I ended up surviving the day by plugging in my ipod and completely zoning out. I finally calmed down about two hours into work and decided to keep my stress level down by jamming out. I jammed my way through two Glee CD’s and finally started to appreciate the mitzvah I was taking part in. It really is a beautiful thing to cherish and tidy graves. Respecting ones we love and holding up their memories is something beautiful.
This year marks the 80th anniversary of the creation of Kibbutz Na’an. I am excited because our director told us about a variety of events that will be taking place this year because of the year long celebration. We get to have concerts, religious celebrations and our Kibbutz has the largest celebration of Passover in Israel.
Monday, February 8, 2010
What We Do
So this morning we had quite an early start to our day. We woke up at 8 for our testing into classes. We stood outside waiting for our teachers to be called in and tested for the correct Hebrew class. I tested into advanced Hebrew. I got my job as well…what I will be doing for my “work” part of the work study program here; I am a gardener. I woke up this morning- because I have to be at work at 6 am. 6, flipping, am. I almost died when I found out. I woke up, am working with 3 other boys. Yes, I am the only girl. We met the other Kibbutzniks who assigned us our jobs. Two of the boys went and chopped down a tree. This guy form Argentina, named Mattie, and I, were assigned to the gardens. I weeded and tilled the soil for 5 hours this morning. It was 45 degrees this morning and still dark when we woke up. The sun rose about 5 past 6 in the morning and was beautiful rose colored, slowly rising over the mountains. The hours went by pretty quickly. Once you get into the work funk, digging, shoveling, turning the soil, it becomes a rhythm, a way of relaxing into your mind. I am very rarely reflective, and I’ve found this time really requires me to focus on my thoughts. Lunch is good, always decent. The vegetables (hot and cold) are pretty good – fresh from the Kibbutz. There are always varities of meat, mousaka, schnitzel (the favorite Israeli chicken dish) and vegan stuff. The families and coworkers all sit together in the dining hall, animatedly talking about the days work, gossip among the families and daily life. I love watching the dynamics between people here- the old ladies sitting together, pushing around vegetables, clearly the best of friends. The old men who eat in silence, teeth absent, and reading the newspaper. There is such a communal feeling in this place. For example, this morning, I was working with one of the guys in the garden. I asked him about the rotation schedule on the Kibbutz. I was curious whether people switched jobs often. What if you hated cooking and you were stuck in the kitchen? Apparently, the people on the Kibbutz pretty much stay permanently in their jobs. They don’t switch around unless absolutely necessary. The guy I was speaking with had been working in the garden for 13 years. But in the last few years, lots of people have been utilizing their specializations and are working off of the Kibbutz. Na’an is the second richest Kibbutz in Israel and one of the largest in terms of size. It isn’t religious though, very few people attend services regularly, and the only services are on Shabbat and the holy days.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Kibbutz Na'an
So Kibbutz Na’an is a beautiful chunk of landscape located next to the city of Rehovot south of Tel Aviv. Driving up, I had no clue what to expect. I was instantly blown away by the never ending rows of lush green fields, flowers and lines of houses in this quaint Kibbutz, Also noticing industrial equipment, my mind wandered to my eventual job placement here on the Kibbutz. Was I to be working in a factory?
My taxi dropped me off at the entrance to the Ulpan center where I immediately met some nice Ulpan kids. 3 Australians and a Brit. They are all 19. Anyways they were really nice guys, all attractive. They were witty, charming and of course have great accents. They made me feel right at home. I checked in with the director, Ilan, whose office is decorated with paintings from past Ulpan classes. There is everything to beautifully done artistic landscapes to class portraits drawn in South Park theme. He was really sweet, welcoming and organized. I loved that bit- the organization part; a beautiful change from Egyptian run things. Anyways the boys helped me bring my bags to my room and we almost immediately went into Rehovot to get some things. It was pretty cold so I bought a jacket, but we walked around this town, quite family oriented. The mall is that way too. Kids surrounding tables getting taught how to make pancakes, families playing in kids jungle gyms, etc.
Meeting people was interesting, as I suppose most first impression situations are. There are people here from all over the world: Mexico, Britain, Australia, Hungary, France, the US, Germany, Russia, and more. There are only 30 of us and the guy to girl ratio is quite off. I think there are only 10 girls. We hung out, smoked sheesha, and talked with each other, regaling our different adventures. Most of us are very well traveled, and were exchanging trips and stories about where we’ve been/where we are dying to go.
I woke up this morning, after homey-ing my room and went for a run. 2 other guys were supposed to come so they slept through it. The run was nice, and the kibbutz is so big, I ran for 30 minutes and hadn’t seen hardly any of it. There are fields upon fields of eggplant, corn and some other unidentifiable vegetable. Gorgeous rows of flowers and even stables with horses, peacocks, pigs and goats surround our Ulpan dorm area. The boys built a fire pit, clearly a crucial need for a five month program. My roommate’s name is Emily, she’s from California and really cool- very chill, nice and clean thank god.
The general way of life here is just drastically different. The communal feeling is evident. People greet everyone as they walk by, the locals are happy to meet us and show us around. Even the dining halls, where everyone eats, felt like one big camp atmosphere- everyone here knows and loves each other. Women walk around with stroller like objects- or at least purposefully so, but actually are cribs with wheels on them with a baby in it. I find it kind of cute, they stroll their baby’s crib along to the grocery store. When you grow up in a kibbutz, at age 16, you get your own apartment, separate from your family. Also, they have a communal grocery store, swimming pool, playgrounds, gardens, and even 2 pubs. I think I could get used to living this way. Everything is so calm and peaceful. Might be trouble though, I am already getting restless. Not in a bad way necessarily, I just have to learn to quiet my mind.
My taxi dropped me off at the entrance to the Ulpan center where I immediately met some nice Ulpan kids. 3 Australians and a Brit. They are all 19. Anyways they were really nice guys, all attractive. They were witty, charming and of course have great accents. They made me feel right at home. I checked in with the director, Ilan, whose office is decorated with paintings from past Ulpan classes. There is everything to beautifully done artistic landscapes to class portraits drawn in South Park theme. He was really sweet, welcoming and organized. I loved that bit- the organization part; a beautiful change from Egyptian run things. Anyways the boys helped me bring my bags to my room and we almost immediately went into Rehovot to get some things. It was pretty cold so I bought a jacket, but we walked around this town, quite family oriented. The mall is that way too. Kids surrounding tables getting taught how to make pancakes, families playing in kids jungle gyms, etc.
Meeting people was interesting, as I suppose most first impression situations are. There are people here from all over the world: Mexico, Britain, Australia, Hungary, France, the US, Germany, Russia, and more. There are only 30 of us and the guy to girl ratio is quite off. I think there are only 10 girls. We hung out, smoked sheesha, and talked with each other, regaling our different adventures. Most of us are very well traveled, and were exchanging trips and stories about where we’ve been/where we are dying to go.
I woke up this morning, after homey-ing my room and went for a run. 2 other guys were supposed to come so they slept through it. The run was nice, and the kibbutz is so big, I ran for 30 minutes and hadn’t seen hardly any of it. There are fields upon fields of eggplant, corn and some other unidentifiable vegetable. Gorgeous rows of flowers and even stables with horses, peacocks, pigs and goats surround our Ulpan dorm area. The boys built a fire pit, clearly a crucial need for a five month program. My roommate’s name is Emily, she’s from California and really cool- very chill, nice and clean thank god.
The general way of life here is just drastically different. The communal feeling is evident. People greet everyone as they walk by, the locals are happy to meet us and show us around. Even the dining halls, where everyone eats, felt like one big camp atmosphere- everyone here knows and loves each other. Women walk around with stroller like objects- or at least purposefully so, but actually are cribs with wheels on them with a baby in it. I find it kind of cute, they stroll their baby’s crib along to the grocery store. When you grow up in a kibbutz, at age 16, you get your own apartment, separate from your family. Also, they have a communal grocery store, swimming pool, playgrounds, gardens, and even 2 pubs. I think I could get used to living this way. Everything is so calm and peaceful. Might be trouble though, I am already getting restless. Not in a bad way necessarily, I just have to learn to quiet my mind.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Sheiken Street, Tel Aviv
I am supposed to get my bags back this morning. Its about 10am here and I couldn't sleep because there is a new building going up next to my friends apartment and they are jack hammering at 9am. So now I am wide awake. I'm having an amazing time. I went to the market yesterday, practiced my Hebrew, and got all these fresh vegetables and fish to cook for my friend who is hosting me. It was great walking through the streets of Tel Aviv and remembering all these old places and restaurants from two years ago. I cooked a big dinner last night and some of his friends came over and we watched a movie, just hung out.
I relaxed all morning, mushing around the apartment waiting for the dang bags to come. I made myself fresh eggs from the market with oozing cheese and fresh Israeli salad. I am reading, reflecting, and journaling about past experiences in an attempt to critically juxtapose my Arab and Israeli experiences.
I waited until 1pm when the Russian immigrant Jewish man brought my bags up four flights of stairs. I was ecstatic, thank the dear lord. I just wanted my bags. Anyways, I unpacked a ton of stuff, stoked to finally have the basic necessities with me! I got ready for yoga, Yam was nice enough to lend me his mat and then I was on my way to Yoga. I google mapped it and decided to walk to the Bikram studio. It ended up being about a 35-minute walk, give or take. I walked up the beach road to the Opera Tower and turned to Allenby and followed it up to one of the side roads I was supposed to take. Allenby is not the most beautiful of streets in Tel Aviv. As you pass by the stripper joints, the putrid smell of urine passes through your nose, leaving a scowl on your face. But continuing on there were random stores full of fashion from the 90’s, old camera’s, hippy-chic boutiques and people rushing on their way to some place or the other.
I found a new favorite street in Tel Aviv, and don’t even remember the name of it. Anyways, it is right across from the HaCarmel Market. It is a street of such high intensity. Full of shops, sounds and people bustling around. I sat in this coffee shop called Aroma, relaxed after my morning of Bikram yoga (which was really cool to take the class in Hebrew). I watched families come and go, shop owners receiving deliveries. All and all, my eyes were reopened to the city of Tel Aviv. So full of life and laughter.
We went out for sushi with my old friends from two years ago, who are really amazing people. We journeyed on to this club- it was a mob getting in. And, like all clubs they handpicked girls to let in out of the masses lol. Its kind of funny to watch. Anyways we get into this club and the lights were way trippy. Blinking, flashing and being highered and lowered above your heads, I felt like I was on acid or something. The DJ was ok, but I wasn't that into going out and getting wasted. Times change I guess. But I was also adjusting to the city, meeting people and was a little out of my comfort zone. I left for Kibbutz Naan- Yam's friend helped me with my bags down four flights of stairs and over to catch my sherut to the bus station. This creepy guy from Manhatten, who apparently is now an Israeli postal worker was following me- offering me a job and made me promise I would write him. Clearly, not happening. He was the definition of senile, creepy old man. Anyways, arrived to Kibbutz Naan safely. Met everyone here. More updates on Kibbutz life to come.
I relaxed all morning, mushing around the apartment waiting for the dang bags to come. I made myself fresh eggs from the market with oozing cheese and fresh Israeli salad. I am reading, reflecting, and journaling about past experiences in an attempt to critically juxtapose my Arab and Israeli experiences.
I waited until 1pm when the Russian immigrant Jewish man brought my bags up four flights of stairs. I was ecstatic, thank the dear lord. I just wanted my bags. Anyways, I unpacked a ton of stuff, stoked to finally have the basic necessities with me! I got ready for yoga, Yam was nice enough to lend me his mat and then I was on my way to Yoga. I google mapped it and decided to walk to the Bikram studio. It ended up being about a 35-minute walk, give or take. I walked up the beach road to the Opera Tower and turned to Allenby and followed it up to one of the side roads I was supposed to take. Allenby is not the most beautiful of streets in Tel Aviv. As you pass by the stripper joints, the putrid smell of urine passes through your nose, leaving a scowl on your face. But continuing on there were random stores full of fashion from the 90’s, old camera’s, hippy-chic boutiques and people rushing on their way to some place or the other.
I found a new favorite street in Tel Aviv, and don’t even remember the name of it. Anyways, it is right across from the HaCarmel Market. It is a street of such high intensity. Full of shops, sounds and people bustling around. I sat in this coffee shop called Aroma, relaxed after my morning of Bikram yoga (which was really cool to take the class in Hebrew). I watched families come and go, shop owners receiving deliveries. All and all, my eyes were reopened to the city of Tel Aviv. So full of life and laughter.
We went out for sushi with my old friends from two years ago, who are really amazing people. We journeyed on to this club- it was a mob getting in. And, like all clubs they handpicked girls to let in out of the masses lol. Its kind of funny to watch. Anyways we get into this club and the lights were way trippy. Blinking, flashing and being highered and lowered above your heads, I felt like I was on acid or something. The DJ was ok, but I wasn't that into going out and getting wasted. Times change I guess. But I was also adjusting to the city, meeting people and was a little out of my comfort zone. I left for Kibbutz Naan- Yam's friend helped me with my bags down four flights of stairs and over to catch my sherut to the bus station. This creepy guy from Manhatten, who apparently is now an Israeli postal worker was following me- offering me a job and made me promise I would write him. Clearly, not happening. He was the definition of senile, creepy old man. Anyways, arrived to Kibbutz Naan safely. Met everyone here. More updates on Kibbutz life to come.
Monday, February 1, 2010
A Taste of TelAviv
February 1, 2010
So today is my first real day in Israel. I got in yesterday, after Delta lost both of my bags. So now I am everything-less. Clothes-less, shoeless, shampooless! Just about everything is missing. I got in, remembered way more than I thought I would, in terms of restaurants, street names and places in general. So I passed out on the couch when I arrived at my friend Yam’s apartment, which is exactly one block away from the beach. I woke up from knocks, door bell rings and calls from Yam. We talked about old friends, Israel, and other frivolities you discuss when you haven’t seen someone in two years. We met his neighbor and they were speaking in Hebrew, I understood most of it but I don’t know if they realized that I can understand that much. Anyways they asked me about what I was studying and I mentioned Arabic. So his neighbor decided to tell me a joke. He looks at me and asks, what do you call it when there are three Arabs in the ocean? I answered, quite awkwardly (not wanting to be in this position), I don’t know. He says, pollution. Continuing, he says what do you call three million Arabs in the ocean? Again, this time with obvious discomfort, I answered I don’t know. He says pollution. I am flabbergasted. But, then, I remember where I am. And where I just came from. Regardless of the issues I have with the Arab world, I love and care for the people in it every bit as much as my Israeli friends. Awkward.
I actually just woke up today, at 1:00pm. I slept for a good twelve hours and needed every bit of it. Now, I am venturing out to find a cell phone, sip some coffee and relax.
Just got back from the shook (market) and am ready to cook fresh Israeli Salmon from the Mediterranean! I literally could just sit and watch interactions all day. I walked through the market streets taking in the sights, aromatic scents and atmosphere of the Israeli nation. The weather is a beautiful 65 degrees Fahrenheit with a slight wind and beautiful bright sun. Crossing streets being wary of sheruts (large publict taxi’s) and bumbling, smoking buses, I walk back and forth across the streets- just because. I enter the HaCarmel Market, about a 15 minute walk away from my friends’ apartment and enter, ready to experience again the craziness of the markets. Typical things include shouting daily prices, juices of unknown sources dripping into the walkways, old women pushing their way through with rolling carts, haggling for lower prices and more. I examine the “way” to do it before I jump back in. Hesitant, but still acutely confident, I stride up to the first stand to buy some vegetables. Always, and I mean always, go to the stand with the most locals. You know it’s the best. Success! So vegetables in hand (thank god I remembered my Hebrew numbers!) I decided to purchase some fresh fish. Called dag (sounds like dog) in Hebrew, I always find it funny asking for dag instead of fish.. Now, I am cooking in my friend Yam’s apartment. I am attempting to make fresh cream and strawberries. The crème is not setting, dang it.
So today is my first real day in Israel. I got in yesterday, after Delta lost both of my bags. So now I am everything-less. Clothes-less, shoeless, shampooless! Just about everything is missing. I got in, remembered way more than I thought I would, in terms of restaurants, street names and places in general. So I passed out on the couch when I arrived at my friend Yam’s apartment, which is exactly one block away from the beach. I woke up from knocks, door bell rings and calls from Yam. We talked about old friends, Israel, and other frivolities you discuss when you haven’t seen someone in two years. We met his neighbor and they were speaking in Hebrew, I understood most of it but I don’t know if they realized that I can understand that much. Anyways they asked me about what I was studying and I mentioned Arabic. So his neighbor decided to tell me a joke. He looks at me and asks, what do you call it when there are three Arabs in the ocean? I answered, quite awkwardly (not wanting to be in this position), I don’t know. He says, pollution. Continuing, he says what do you call three million Arabs in the ocean? Again, this time with obvious discomfort, I answered I don’t know. He says pollution. I am flabbergasted. But, then, I remember where I am. And where I just came from. Regardless of the issues I have with the Arab world, I love and care for the people in it every bit as much as my Israeli friends. Awkward.
I actually just woke up today, at 1:00pm. I slept for a good twelve hours and needed every bit of it. Now, I am venturing out to find a cell phone, sip some coffee and relax.
Just got back from the shook (market) and am ready to cook fresh Israeli Salmon from the Mediterranean! I literally could just sit and watch interactions all day. I walked through the market streets taking in the sights, aromatic scents and atmosphere of the Israeli nation. The weather is a beautiful 65 degrees Fahrenheit with a slight wind and beautiful bright sun. Crossing streets being wary of sheruts (large publict taxi’s) and bumbling, smoking buses, I walk back and forth across the streets- just because. I enter the HaCarmel Market, about a 15 minute walk away from my friends’ apartment and enter, ready to experience again the craziness of the markets. Typical things include shouting daily prices, juices of unknown sources dripping into the walkways, old women pushing their way through with rolling carts, haggling for lower prices and more. I examine the “way” to do it before I jump back in. Hesitant, but still acutely confident, I stride up to the first stand to buy some vegetables. Always, and I mean always, go to the stand with the most locals. You know it’s the best. Success! So vegetables in hand (thank god I remembered my Hebrew numbers!) I decided to purchase some fresh fish. Called dag (sounds like dog) in Hebrew, I always find it funny asking for dag instead of fish.. Now, I am cooking in my friend Yam’s apartment. I am attempting to make fresh cream and strawberries. The crème is not setting, dang it.
Friday, January 29, 2010
To the Holy Land
Well, I am packing my bags. Procrastinating as usual. But almost kind of sort of ready to depart on my trip to Israel. 5 Months on Kibbutz Naan await me. I'm meeting my friend Yam, who's letting me stay at his place in TelAviv and am quite excited to begin my adventure! Still working out my summer plans...Wish me a safe flight. Post next in Israel
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Update over Christmas Break
Okay, so I know I haven't been the worlds best blogger. I will really try to update more regularly to keep all of you up to date on my life/experiences/views of my life.
Anyways, it is now Christmas break and I am home in beautiful Jupiter, FL for about 5 more weeks for the Holidays. The Christmas Eve service at my church was spectacular, as always and year after year makes me feel genuinely blessed.
I'll be visiting Gainesville to see all my friends before I leave again for Israel on January 30th. Keep you updated as things develop.
Happy Holidays.
Anyways, it is now Christmas break and I am home in beautiful Jupiter, FL for about 5 more weeks for the Holidays. The Christmas Eve service at my church was spectacular, as always and year after year makes me feel genuinely blessed.
I'll be visiting Gainesville to see all my friends before I leave again for Israel on January 30th. Keep you updated as things develop.
Happy Holidays.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Turkey Part 2
It was a Halloween party waiting to happen. Anyways we walked around, saw all the fish swimming around the barely full water levels around the cisterns, water dripped on our heads- we finally made it to the back of the cistern and saw the Medusa’s heads- one on its side, one upside down. Scientists claim it was supposed to be like this- placed intentionally there in these positions.
Afterwards, we decided to go to the spice bazaar and indulge in a mini-Thanksgiving feast. As we walked through the spice market, we were overwhelmed with the fragrant tea’s and spices like cinnamon, cumin and black pepper mixed with the scent of the famous aphrodisiac from Istanbul, supposedly once used by the king. Fruit stands, juice sellers, sandwich makers (who walk around with a holding table, fresh bread, cheese and hard boiled eggs), cheese sellers, all letting you taste all the amazing highlights of their booth, and on a larger note, of Turkish cuisine. We sampled fruits and fresh cheese while walking by the lines literally filing out the door of the butchers shops; all the people waiting in line for their lamb. (it was the afternoon before the morning of the sacrifice for Eid Al Adha). There was lots of pushing and prodding through this district…Oh and their were Turks being interviewed about Swine Flu, wearing swine flu masks of course. {There are people all of Turkey, everywhere really, still wearing Swine flu masks. I find it quite humorous.} After we cruised out of the edge of the market where we met this guy working at a café. He recommended this Donor Kebab place so we went to find it- got donors and this yoghurt drink which was kind of chunky and gross. We returned to the café with the guy we met and ordered fresh juice. That was my thanksgiving dinner lol. Slightly sub-standard considered American expectations, but th rest of the amazing day more than made up for it. Besides, our wallets would’ve been hurting had we splurged. We ended up strolling through the side alleys of the market and saw gun shops, which effectively freaked me out, stores selling weird Christmas things, key stores, fountain stores, etc. It was basically like an outdoors, balady Home Depot. We continued along the main road to the Galata bridge, which we crossed but not without taking in an excellent amount of people watching. Vendors everywhere, fisherman stringing their poles, couples walking hand in hand, people bustling home from work and elderly men shuffling across, seemingly just trying to make it to the other side. We walked through the side streets of Galata, we really like doing that by the way, and took photos, observed daily life and admired the absolutely beautiful architecture. We made it up the massive hill to Galata Tower. I thought we were going to have to walk upstairs in this old school castle/tower thingy but much to our surprise it was seriously posh. A jewelry shop at the bottom, men who are paid only to push the elevator buttons, elevators with information videos in them and a gorgeous restaurant and night club when you reach the top, with of course, the viewing area outside. We stayed outside for probably an 1 ½ watching the sun slowly set over Istanbul. From the tower we could see all of Istanbul, both the European and Asian continents- if I didn’t already say it, Istanbul is the only city in the world to straddle two continents. All the minarets, palaces, the Bosphorous…we were blessed with this breathtaking view of the city, of two continents, on Thanksgiving. We waited until the sun set, talking to random people from all over the world, snapping photos and making jokes. We walked around Galata for a bit, indulged in some local sweets like this donut thing quadruple fried and dipped in honey and sugar. We came back over the bridge and saw the restaurants on the bottom of the bridge- super touristy but the fish looked so yummy! We grabbed the tram back because we had to get back to the hostel to catch our bus to Cappadocia. Got packed up and went to the bus station. Normally all bus stations are gross, but I officially hate Turkish bathrooms. It was one of the few things in this beautiful country. It is literally a hole in the floor with a bucket of water to wash away the urine. So basically you are just standing in urine water. So gross.
We boarded the twelve hour bus to Cappadoccia/Kapadokya in Turkish. It was long, difficult and seriously uncomfortable, but well worth it. The bus companies here serve snacks, coffee, tea and water thoughout the entire trip. They actually have an employee on the bus specifically to serve people food. We stopped at all these little towns throughout the trip, randomly picking up people and dropping them off. Oh and on the way to Urgup we had to transfer buses. Men and women who aren’t married aren’t allowed to sit together on Turkish buses. So Maggie and I sat together and Wills sat with this random guy. We finally arrived and it was absolutey freezing. Our hotel, the Dedeli Konak picked us up where we ewer given out toasty little cave room. Literally our hotel was carved out of the cave, very cool. I passed out for an hour before the tour started ad devoured the Turkish breakfast before we had to pile in the van. Turkish breakfasts consist of lots of mezze with toast and Turkish tea and coffee.
Our tour started at 9:30am ad boy was it packed with tons of stuff to do. We started off at a panorama view of this beautiful valley called the Deverent Valley and fantasized the entire time about climbing all these volcanically shaped rocks, called different names all over the region depending on the shape they take. I kept asking the guide when do we have free time to climb?!? He got a bit annoyed. We got back in the van and went down to the lower level or the valley known as Monks Valley where there were all these cool rock formations, shaped by lava 8-10 million years ago. Wills and I decided we had to climb one, so he scooted up this huge rock like a dang monkey. And, of course, I think if he can do it, so can I so I follow him up. It was a beautiful view and tons of fun until I decided to get down because all of the rocks were extremely dusty and crumbly, hence no footholds. There was a group of Eastern Orthodox Christian Armenians who started to pray for me, and my safe descent, treacherous as it was. I slid down halfway, the easy way. Then my new Eastern Orthodox friend decided to step in and help me so I wouldn’t seriously injure myself; which was good because I totally would’ve eaten it. I completely fell into him and made it down with minor scratches and bruises. Everyone started clapping and of course, I was mortified.
Afterwards, we decided to go to the spice bazaar and indulge in a mini-Thanksgiving feast. As we walked through the spice market, we were overwhelmed with the fragrant tea’s and spices like cinnamon, cumin and black pepper mixed with the scent of the famous aphrodisiac from Istanbul, supposedly once used by the king. Fruit stands, juice sellers, sandwich makers (who walk around with a holding table, fresh bread, cheese and hard boiled eggs), cheese sellers, all letting you taste all the amazing highlights of their booth, and on a larger note, of Turkish cuisine. We sampled fruits and fresh cheese while walking by the lines literally filing out the door of the butchers shops; all the people waiting in line for their lamb. (it was the afternoon before the morning of the sacrifice for Eid Al Adha). There was lots of pushing and prodding through this district…Oh and their were Turks being interviewed about Swine Flu, wearing swine flu masks of course. {There are people all of Turkey, everywhere really, still wearing Swine flu masks. I find it quite humorous.} After we cruised out of the edge of the market where we met this guy working at a café. He recommended this Donor Kebab place so we went to find it- got donors and this yoghurt drink which was kind of chunky and gross. We returned to the café with the guy we met and ordered fresh juice. That was my thanksgiving dinner lol. Slightly sub-standard considered American expectations, but th rest of the amazing day more than made up for it. Besides, our wallets would’ve been hurting had we splurged. We ended up strolling through the side alleys of the market and saw gun shops, which effectively freaked me out, stores selling weird Christmas things, key stores, fountain stores, etc. It was basically like an outdoors, balady Home Depot. We continued along the main road to the Galata bridge, which we crossed but not without taking in an excellent amount of people watching. Vendors everywhere, fisherman stringing their poles, couples walking hand in hand, people bustling home from work and elderly men shuffling across, seemingly just trying to make it to the other side. We walked through the side streets of Galata, we really like doing that by the way, and took photos, observed daily life and admired the absolutely beautiful architecture. We made it up the massive hill to Galata Tower. I thought we were going to have to walk upstairs in this old school castle/tower thingy but much to our surprise it was seriously posh. A jewelry shop at the bottom, men who are paid only to push the elevator buttons, elevators with information videos in them and a gorgeous restaurant and night club when you reach the top, with of course, the viewing area outside. We stayed outside for probably an 1 ½ watching the sun slowly set over Istanbul. From the tower we could see all of Istanbul, both the European and Asian continents- if I didn’t already say it, Istanbul is the only city in the world to straddle two continents. All the minarets, palaces, the Bosphorous…we were blessed with this breathtaking view of the city, of two continents, on Thanksgiving. We waited until the sun set, talking to random people from all over the world, snapping photos and making jokes. We walked around Galata for a bit, indulged in some local sweets like this donut thing quadruple fried and dipped in honey and sugar. We came back over the bridge and saw the restaurants on the bottom of the bridge- super touristy but the fish looked so yummy! We grabbed the tram back because we had to get back to the hostel to catch our bus to Cappadocia. Got packed up and went to the bus station. Normally all bus stations are gross, but I officially hate Turkish bathrooms. It was one of the few things in this beautiful country. It is literally a hole in the floor with a bucket of water to wash away the urine. So basically you are just standing in urine water. So gross.
We boarded the twelve hour bus to Cappadoccia/Kapadokya in Turkish. It was long, difficult and seriously uncomfortable, but well worth it. The bus companies here serve snacks, coffee, tea and water thoughout the entire trip. They actually have an employee on the bus specifically to serve people food. We stopped at all these little towns throughout the trip, randomly picking up people and dropping them off. Oh and on the way to Urgup we had to transfer buses. Men and women who aren’t married aren’t allowed to sit together on Turkish buses. So Maggie and I sat together and Wills sat with this random guy. We finally arrived and it was absolutey freezing. Our hotel, the Dedeli Konak picked us up where we ewer given out toasty little cave room. Literally our hotel was carved out of the cave, very cool. I passed out for an hour before the tour started ad devoured the Turkish breakfast before we had to pile in the van. Turkish breakfasts consist of lots of mezze with toast and Turkish tea and coffee.
Our tour started at 9:30am ad boy was it packed with tons of stuff to do. We started off at a panorama view of this beautiful valley called the Deverent Valley and fantasized the entire time about climbing all these volcanically shaped rocks, called different names all over the region depending on the shape they take. I kept asking the guide when do we have free time to climb?!? He got a bit annoyed. We got back in the van and went down to the lower level or the valley known as Monks Valley where there were all these cool rock formations, shaped by lava 8-10 million years ago. Wills and I decided we had to climb one, so he scooted up this huge rock like a dang monkey. And, of course, I think if he can do it, so can I so I follow him up. It was a beautiful view and tons of fun until I decided to get down because all of the rocks were extremely dusty and crumbly, hence no footholds. There was a group of Eastern Orthodox Christian Armenians who started to pray for me, and my safe descent, treacherous as it was. I slid down halfway, the easy way. Then my new Eastern Orthodox friend decided to step in and help me so I wouldn’t seriously injure myself; which was good because I totally would’ve eaten it. I completely fell into him and made it down with minor scratches and bruises. Everyone started clapping and of course, I was mortified.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Thanksgiving in Turkey Part 1
So after our two hour delay because of the fog hovering over Istanbul. We landed and had our hostel pick us up from the airport. The city is a thousand times cleaner than Cairo, and the aura completely different. Much more relaxed, quiet, even peaceful. This is the low point for the tourist season- but even disregarding the lack of honking, the pateience and genuine hosptiality was so refreshing! The minute we got to our hosetl, we were welcomed by name. We decided to take it easy the first day, since it was already late afternoon, so we walked around Sultanhamet. We ate donor kebabs after strolling through the Bazaar- the oldest Bazaar in the world! There are so many street vendors, selling fresh chestnuts, helping us ring in the Christmas season, and fresh corn coming out of steaming vats of water. Prices aren't bad at all, but I have been spoiled with the cheapness of Cairo and am now officially a price snob. (2 dollars for a soda:?!? In Cairo I pay 40 cents! haha- see what I mean?) We talked to lots of people, all of whom were extremely helpful, and such a huge contrast to the lack of social awareness so prevalent in Cairo. Here, smiling at people is not an invitation for a butt grab, nor is making eye contact a sign of flirtation. Don't get me wrong, I love the vibe of Cairo, the constant bustling, honking, calls to prayer, and the unique interactions I get to experience on a daily basis, but having a break is nice too.
After our stroll through quiet neighborhoods and side street markets we sat at this nice restaurant, smoked a sheesha and had this great apple tea for two hours. We sat with some of the waiters who told us where to go, their favorite places, really cool guys. We went to bed pretty early that night to get in a full day of sightseeing.
Today was Thanksgiving. I was so tickled at the prospect of spending Turkey day in Istanbul, Turkey- once in a lifetime, definitely! Well our makeshift Thanksgiving was quite spectacular. We decided to treat ourselves to the ever over-priced Starbucks, something nonexistent in Cairo. I had a peppermint soy hot chocolate with a shot of espresso- pure heaven. We wanted to see the major sights that day but not without a bite to eat. We strolled along the streets of Istanbul, slowly waking up with our coffee. I found this great pastry shop, wo we indulged in these flaky freshly baked pastries lightly filled with cheese or potatoes and meat with fresh onions. As we devoured our tasty breakfast treats we walked to the Sultanhamet center: the plaza where the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia are located. Basically all the tourist sites are generally located in this area, which by the way is quite aesthetically pleasing. Green, crisp lawns centered between the two monuments, a huge fountain and undeniably inspiring architecture.
We first visited the tomb of the guy who built the Blue Mosque. It was very interesting. We obviously removed our shoes to enter the tomb, and entered this building like a chapel- there were all these tombs in huge coffins each covered with one big draped sheet. I remember thinking about the decorations in the building- my Mom would’ve loved it! Gorgeous tiling in different shades of blues and tans, just like our house. We went to the Blue Mosque next and were cordially directed to the visitors entrance, because only Muslims are allowed in the main entrance. The Mosque itself was beautiful with high domed ceilings, stain glass windows and lush green carpets. Men and women were separated for prayers. It was beautiful, but for some spiritual reason I wasn’t, you know, moved. I appreciated the significance, historically and religiously- but I just wasn’t spiritually moved. Anyways, we were fortunate enough to get some amazing photos, we actually took so many pictures this trip, at times it was a bit embarrassing. We met an American family outside of the Mosque and wished them a Happy Thanksgiving ☺ It was pretty darn cute. So we were out in the courtyard next to the Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, a vast expanse of greenery and gorgeous Panorama views, and the vultures came. “Are you Australian?”, “do you want to buy a hat” “do you need a map?” Actually, it felt a bit like home, Cairo home, that is.
We entered the courtyard of the Hagia Sophia, an entrance fee of 20 Turkish Lira, but worth every lira. Even with the dome being under construction, little could take away from the brilliance in every corner of this magnificent building. The archways, doors, tiered levels, paintings, mosaics, and even circular nickel shaped tributes to Allah could bring an person to gape at the majesty before them. Once a church, converted to a Mosque, its splendor is truly the epitome of Turkey/Istanbul- the city where the east meets the west. The fusion is evident throughout the city, both culturally and religiously. We took so many pictures; I even got on Wills’ shoulders to get a great shot of the Blue Mosque from this view. (Wills has officially become a huge photo whore. We turned him to the dark side- now obsessed with angles, and doors, and great lighting, it made the trip so much more fun!) There was this little fresco mosaic in the preserved upper level of the church. My first thought was that my Dad would’ve LOVED this. Because the Muslims painted over the Christian paintings, many remained preserved under the paint for hundreds of years. It was Christ along with other saints- but in these Mosaic’s there were the tiniest pieces of painted stone, brilliant golds and blues. The history in this region boggles my mind. So many important peoples, cultures and discoveries were all made here, in this region: Ephesus, Noah’s Ark, and all 7 churches of Revelation, to name a few. Long story short, the Hagia Sophia was amazing, beautiful and well worth its title as a Wonder of the World. Oh and at the end, there’s this place where you put your finger in where a saint supposedly cured an illness- you twist your thumb all the way around and if you feel water, you are supposed to be cured. I couldn’t twist my finger that far. ☹ WE left and walked to this little café right beside it, drank the famous apple tea and discussed our plans for the rest of the day. We took photos, again, shocking, I know. I did a backbend on this wall and all these guys started taking photos. It was awkward. We decided to do the Cisterns next, so we walked over, followed the signs and somehow stupidly missed the entrance and got lost- ended up running into this cool Asian couple who were interested in going to Cairo, so naturally we got all excited and gave them advice on where to go. They pointed us in the direction of the Cisterns and we descended into this dimly lit cavernous area.
More to come...
After our stroll through quiet neighborhoods and side street markets we sat at this nice restaurant, smoked a sheesha and had this great apple tea for two hours. We sat with some of the waiters who told us where to go, their favorite places, really cool guys. We went to bed pretty early that night to get in a full day of sightseeing.
Today was Thanksgiving. I was so tickled at the prospect of spending Turkey day in Istanbul, Turkey- once in a lifetime, definitely! Well our makeshift Thanksgiving was quite spectacular. We decided to treat ourselves to the ever over-priced Starbucks, something nonexistent in Cairo. I had a peppermint soy hot chocolate with a shot of espresso- pure heaven. We wanted to see the major sights that day but not without a bite to eat. We strolled along the streets of Istanbul, slowly waking up with our coffee. I found this great pastry shop, wo we indulged in these flaky freshly baked pastries lightly filled with cheese or potatoes and meat with fresh onions. As we devoured our tasty breakfast treats we walked to the Sultanhamet center: the plaza where the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia are located. Basically all the tourist sites are generally located in this area, which by the way is quite aesthetically pleasing. Green, crisp lawns centered between the two monuments, a huge fountain and undeniably inspiring architecture.
We first visited the tomb of the guy who built the Blue Mosque. It was very interesting. We obviously removed our shoes to enter the tomb, and entered this building like a chapel- there were all these tombs in huge coffins each covered with one big draped sheet. I remember thinking about the decorations in the building- my Mom would’ve loved it! Gorgeous tiling in different shades of blues and tans, just like our house. We went to the Blue Mosque next and were cordially directed to the visitors entrance, because only Muslims are allowed in the main entrance. The Mosque itself was beautiful with high domed ceilings, stain glass windows and lush green carpets. Men and women were separated for prayers. It was beautiful, but for some spiritual reason I wasn’t, you know, moved. I appreciated the significance, historically and religiously- but I just wasn’t spiritually moved. Anyways, we were fortunate enough to get some amazing photos, we actually took so many pictures this trip, at times it was a bit embarrassing. We met an American family outside of the Mosque and wished them a Happy Thanksgiving ☺ It was pretty darn cute. So we were out in the courtyard next to the Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, a vast expanse of greenery and gorgeous Panorama views, and the vultures came. “Are you Australian?”, “do you want to buy a hat” “do you need a map?” Actually, it felt a bit like home, Cairo home, that is.
We entered the courtyard of the Hagia Sophia, an entrance fee of 20 Turkish Lira, but worth every lira. Even with the dome being under construction, little could take away from the brilliance in every corner of this magnificent building. The archways, doors, tiered levels, paintings, mosaics, and even circular nickel shaped tributes to Allah could bring an person to gape at the majesty before them. Once a church, converted to a Mosque, its splendor is truly the epitome of Turkey/Istanbul- the city where the east meets the west. The fusion is evident throughout the city, both culturally and religiously. We took so many pictures; I even got on Wills’ shoulders to get a great shot of the Blue Mosque from this view. (Wills has officially become a huge photo whore. We turned him to the dark side- now obsessed with angles, and doors, and great lighting, it made the trip so much more fun!) There was this little fresco mosaic in the preserved upper level of the church. My first thought was that my Dad would’ve LOVED this. Because the Muslims painted over the Christian paintings, many remained preserved under the paint for hundreds of years. It was Christ along with other saints- but in these Mosaic’s there were the tiniest pieces of painted stone, brilliant golds and blues. The history in this region boggles my mind. So many important peoples, cultures and discoveries were all made here, in this region: Ephesus, Noah’s Ark, and all 7 churches of Revelation, to name a few. Long story short, the Hagia Sophia was amazing, beautiful and well worth its title as a Wonder of the World. Oh and at the end, there’s this place where you put your finger in where a saint supposedly cured an illness- you twist your thumb all the way around and if you feel water, you are supposed to be cured. I couldn’t twist my finger that far. ☹ WE left and walked to this little café right beside it, drank the famous apple tea and discussed our plans for the rest of the day. We took photos, again, shocking, I know. I did a backbend on this wall and all these guys started taking photos. It was awkward. We decided to do the Cisterns next, so we walked over, followed the signs and somehow stupidly missed the entrance and got lost- ended up running into this cool Asian couple who were interested in going to Cairo, so naturally we got all excited and gave them advice on where to go. They pointed us in the direction of the Cisterns and we descended into this dimly lit cavernous area.
More to come...
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