יש לה נוכחות

"Yesh la nochechut." That is what my teacher said about me. I then had to ask the girl next to me what "nochechut" was, and found out my teacher was saying that I had presence. Which made me really happy.

In most of my classes I feel sort of like a tiny little fish in a sea of Hebrew occasionally squeaking out a "help" that no one really hears. I have class two days a week. On Mondays I start with "Creativity and Mental Illness". The professor is mostly understandable and since we are talking about history right now I am pretty much following what is going on. Plus it is fascinating, so that makes it easier to pay attention to the Hebrew. Next I have "Psychotherapy" where we are learning all about... therapy. The teacher, in an attempt to make it easier for all the students but me, has assigned only Hebrew articles this semester. It took me over a week to read 10 pages. She also believes that all therapists should have a very high vocabulary- which she uses in class. I am still having to have a normal vocabulary, so I get lost a little more easily in this class. Then the fun starts (I am dripping sarcasm right now). I have 3 hours of qualitative research methods with a woman who talks like she is stoned. She really loves research methods but I basically have no idea what is going on, because I cant pay attention to her for more than 6 minutes at a time. Then I have 3 hours of quantitative research methods with a woman who talks faster than any human being or cartoon character I have ever heard. Its like getting hit by a tsunami of Hebrew. Luckily the program she is teaching us is in English, so I can actually keep up with the class. Plus, she is entertaining, which is much appreciated at the end of the day.

These classes are all 60+ people lectures for the whole creative therapies program. (There are 4 tracks, music, drama, movement/dance, and visual art. Art is the biggest, with 60 people starting this year). I am generally too embarrassed to ever speak out in class and reveal my grammar mistakes and American accent, plus I am afraid that someone might have already said what I wanted to say and I just didn't realize it. This is a little hard for me because I am one of those kids that speaks up in class (not the annoying Hermione-hand kind of kid, but still, I am a talker). So the only chance I really get to do this is on my second day of classes, which in my head I call "art day". On art day, I start with a 4 hour class on art therapy. There are 20 women in my class (there is one man in the entire program) and we alternate learning art therapy theory and drawing/painting/sculpting. The women in my program all seem to know who I am from the few occasions where everyone had to introduce themselves (Apparently my Americanness and strange name make me rather memorable), and are all very nice to me. So I can speak up a little in this class, but I frequently lack a word or feel like I am not properly expressing myself which gets a little frustrating. After this class I have a second art class. This one is my smallest- there are only 10 of us- and is focused on giving us a support group through the program, a place where we can really connect with other students and talk about any issues or questions we might have. Nava, our professor, is wonderful, and two of the other religious women that I have befriended are in the same group. We tend to start class with some sort of individual project and then come together to create something as a group. And then we sit around and talk about it.

This class is my favorite because I feel like I can express myself without necessarily talking. For example, this week we started class with everyone drawing a tree for themselves. We then put each one on one large poster paper and Nava told us to create a forest. This is always the awkward point, where no one really knows where to start. Some people put out an idea or two but no one will make a decision. Since this drives me crazy in almost all situations, I ended up just getting up, picking up a paintbrush, and saying, I am going to paint a "______" now. Which is how I earned the lovely compliment from my teacher.

So school is hard but wonderful. I am generally excited and interested in what I am learning (even research methods has its moments) and though there are days when I feel like Im drowning in Hebrew, I think I am going to be okay.

I have been told there is a song about Haifa but I do not know it yet

And were done! With holidays that is. Tonight is actually the beginning of a new month, the much underrated "no-chag-Cheshvan" and even us one-day Israelis are ready for it. I spent the last of the holidays, Simchat Torah (Literally Joy of the Torah), in Jerusalem in my old roommate's new apartment. Unfortunately, I couldn't really participate in the best part of the holiday- the dancing- because my knee was still protesting my 9 hour hike (You know, my right knee went on the same hike and she hasn't complained at all!). But I did get to celebrate with friends in Jerusalem so I can't really complain.

I spent Shabbat on a hilltop in the Gush with David and Davida and had wonderful long talks about starting a farm on an isolated hilltop. My dreams of moving to a hilltop and building a house have recently expanded to include a small farm. And neighbors, as David wants to come live there too.

Unfortunately this dream is a long way off, as seen by the rude awakening I received this morning. Literally. I was awoken by someone with an overactive airhorn complex followed by some guy trying to sell something by screaming into his megaphone. This is of course on top of the constant noise of traffic passing by my building. Last night the Technion had a dance party. Which I could sing along to in my room. I hate living in a city. I thought Jerusalem was bad sometimes, but apparently I was spoiled by a nice quiet neighborhood with everything from the doctor to the grocery store a 5 min. walk from my apartment. Rude awakening indeed.

The noise is the worst of it though. I could complain about my shirtless hairy neighbor who insists on smoking right outside our door, or how the bakery only sells challah for 2 hours on Friday morning, but... oh wait, I just did :) Stam, Haifa is not that bad, it is just taking some adjusting. I am getting to know more and more people, thanks to the fact that the one friend I had when I moved here is apparently the social life source of Haifa. She actually knows everybody and does everything. The other night I joined her for a Capoiera class at the Technion, which taught me I have a whole slew of muscles I do not regularly use.

Anyway, Shabbat is approaching so I must go, but I start school on Monday (!!!) so next week I can tell you all about it :)

A hike, a reunion, and a soldier come home

First things first, this past Wednesday the Jewish holiday of Sukkot started. It is a seasonal festival where we build huts like the Israelites lived in when they left Egypt and spend the week, eating, sleeping, and generally living in these huts outside. I came to Efrat, like I do every year, and enjoyed their large and homey Sukkah. We bring the couches outside and hang out there all night playing cards or watching movies. My friend Mickie and Shoshana both joined me for part of the holiday and it has just been lovely and fun.

To make a good weekend even better, I turned on my phone after Shabbat and got a text message from my friend Marnina with two words- "Night Hike". There is a very popular hike from Tekoa to the Dead Sea (here's a map) that is generally done at night since it is through the desert. I have been wanting to do this hike for about 6 years, so I was really excited when the opportunity arose. Unfortunately, it was very last minute, and I had not really packed for a 9 hour hike, so I ended up doing the whole thing in converse and jeans. It was a fantastic 8.5 hours of sometimes getting lost and mostly being awed by these vast ravines and mountains and gorgeous views. It was a night hike, but the moon was very bright and it was like being in a black and white movie. It was a little hard to determine depths and distances but it only made the views more fantastic. As we got closer to the Dead Sea and the sun started to rise and bring color back in to our surroundings, I was hiking along feeling refreshed and energized even though I had not slept all night. Unfortunately the last bit of the trip was somewhat ruined when my knee gave out and I had to hobble the rest of the way. The boys I was with were very gallant and offered to carry me, but I had only met them that night and there was no way I was going to make someone do that. Anyway, the sun rose, we eventually finished on top of a mountain overlooking the Dead Sea, and then we started the long process of hitchiking home. I got back to Efrat around 9:30 am and slept until 4pm.

At 4, I headed over to the Merkaz Klita 20 year reunion. 20 years ago, my family tried to make aliyah and lived in an absorption center outside of Jerusalem for a year. Aliyah then was very different from now, and out family of 6 was living in a 2 bedroom "house" with a tiny bathroom and a toaster oven that my mother somehow made Thanksgiving turkey in. The neighborhood was filled with Russian, Ethiopian, and American immigrants trying to adjust to Israeli society. Back then there were no organizations to help out immigrants and there were a lot of missing amenities. There was one pay phone for the whole neighborhood, and people who were used to having large suburban homes found themselves cooking for their families on one electric burner and drying their clothes with a clothes line strung between bookshelves (my dad has a great story about that one). Anyway, the American families that immigrated in 1991 became a very tight community that supported each other through Israeli bureaucracy, cultural clashes, and the unending language difficulties. Well this year was the 20th anniversary of their aliyah, and all the families got together to catch up and reminisce. Since Judy (of my adopted family) was planning the event, she insisted that I come to represent my family. So there I was in a Sukkah with 60 people, most of whom I have not seen since I was 5 and don't really remember. So imagine my shock when I was introduced to my old kindergarten teacher who took one look at me and said "Kfirah! Didn't your family leave Israel?". This was 20 years ago! I was 5! And she remembered me!! Crazy. So I caught up with all my parents old friends, told them how everyone was doing, showed them pictures of Alon and then got to watch a fantastic slideshow of the Merkaz Klitah days that was full of old pictures of my parents and siblings. Barak- you were so freaking cute when you weren't covered in slime. Anyway, it was very cool to see how tight this group of people still are and very much made me appreciate how much easier aliyah now is.

Okay, one last point to discuss. For those of you who have not heard, Israel has just agreed to trade over 1000 prisoners in exchange for Gilad Shalit, a soldier who was kidnapped out of his tank on the Gaza border 5 years ago. He is my age and we have not had any proof of life in over 2 years. Hamas has refused to let the Red Cross in to see him, and the military has not been able to retrieve him. There have been deals on the table before, but the cost has always been too high and Israel has refused. Now they are trading 1,027 terrorists, over 350 of which have "blood on their hands" meaning they have actively participated in terrorist attacks that ended in fatalities. Many of these terrorists will be allowed to return to their homes in the West Bank, and East Jerusalem. Others are being deported to the Gaza Strip and other countries. Statistically, it has been shown that most released terrorists return to terrorist activity and have caused even more damage (http://www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/121845#.Tpsu1Jv-7v8). Gilad Shalit has become a cause. There has been a huge public protest over the past 3 years to encourage the Israeli government and the UN to do something to bring Gilad home. He is seen as the brother and son of every Israeli. Those going into the army worry that should they ever be captured the government will not come get them, will abandon them to their enemies. Though he is a soldier, he is also seen as a child and everyone in Israel wants to bring him home. The price is steep, many believe too steep, and the newspapers are filled with articles and editorials debating whether Netanyahu made the right decision and whether we will regret this in the future. Aside from the danger of releasing terrorists back into our country, we are also showing Hamas that this tactic works, that they can kidnap one man and 1000 murderers will go free.

I want Gilad home. And I think that we should not be negotiating. But I also understand why we do. I can look at the situation rationally and say that he is a soldier and the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few (thanks Shosh for the Spock quote), and one day my husband and my sons will be out there in uniform, an ideal target for a kidnapping attempt. And what would I do if it was my kid? I don't know. But I understand the Shalit's fight, I understand every teenager in Israel that wants to see Gilad come home so that when they put on their uniform they are a little less afraid. And I understand an Israeli government that will do anything to bring back one of their own- and will deal with the consequences when they come.

There are summer storms in Haifa

That's right! I live in Haifa now. And my first day we had an all out summer thunder storm. I have never seen it rain so hard while I was wearing short-sleeves. Haifa is only 2 hours from Jerusalem but I can see that I will be having to adjust to some difference in weather.

I have to keep this short because our living room looks like a tiny village made of boxes and suitcases and we are hosting dinner tonight. Which I also have to help cook for. But basically, moving was not as terrible as I feared it would be. This was mostly because my adopted brothers, Eli and Shlomo, are the most wonderful people in the world. Rafi, Barak, I love you, but you should be warned that I am holding you to a much higher standard now. Yesterday I went and rented a nice Chevy van and drove back to Efrat where Eli helped me move the ridiculous amount of material possessions I have out of their attic and into the car. He helped me arrange it all so that I actually got everything in and then he came with me to Jerusalem to pick up my bed from my old apartment. Which he then spent another 30 minutes helping me secure to the roof. This is even more impressive because he was 40 minutes late for class. I then dropped off Eli and picked up Shlomo, who drove to Haifa with me. We almost lost the mattress at one point, got in a small fender bender at another point, hit rush hour traffic in 2 different cities and then I got lost coming into Haifa. But I was with Shlomo, so it was more funny and ironic then annoying. Then we got to Haifa, where my roommates and my friend Marnina (as well as her brother) were waiting to help us lug all the stuff up four flights of stairs. At this point it was almost 7pm and Shlomo wanted to get home so we tried to find the bus station, failed, and then drove to the other station near the beach where I waited with him until his bus came. The boy wouldn't even let me buy him dinner.

So, sof sof, I have an apartment, I can unpack my things, and start a new life in Haifa. I miss my Efrat family already but will be headed back there next week for Rosh Hashana. In the meantime there are all the small apartment things that have to get fixed, painted, replaced, or bought. So I imagine it will be a busy week.

There is no jay-walking in Venice

Well hello there,

It has apparently been awhile. I just got to Rome for the last leg of my trip (I am coming home on Thursday!) and since I once again have access to a computer, I thought I would update you.

I spent last week in Florence which was fantastic. Shabbat there was sooo much nicer then Rome! The Chabad is really welcoming and hosts a big meal for everyone and I met all kinds of cool people. Many an Israeli, of course, but also a girl from Australia and two from Brazil. We all hung out Shabbat afternoon and then again Saturday night and I just couldnt believe what a huge difference it was from my experience in Rome.

I spent most of the week wandering around Florence (such a beautiful city) checking out churches and art museums :) The australian girl (Sharona) and I also took a daytrip out to Siena and got to see their amazing Cathedral- which was especially exciting because as opposed to all the frescoes cielings everywhere else, the big attraction here was the intricately mosaiced floors. It was a nice break for my neck since I spend so much time staring up.

I also got to enjoy some kosher restauranting and a night at the opera. It wasn't exactly the Kennedy Center, just a woman singing some arias in a church, but she was absolutely fantastic. The big bummer was that on Tuesday- the day I got a reservation for the Uffizi in one of my few moments of planning ahead- Florence went on strike and all the museums were closed. I almost cried when I saw the sign but then I saw everyone protesting and it seemed like it was something important so I gave them the benefit of the doubt and cheered on the unions or whoever they were. I did however have to cancel my daytrip to Cinque Terre since I only had one day left in Florence and there was no way I was not going to the Uffizi. (Where, by the way I spent 3.5 hours and it was worth every minute I had to wait in line).

From Florence I headed to Venice for Shabbat. I had about a 15 minute walk from the train station to my hostel and with my giant tbag on my back I felt like a teenage elephant in a neverending glass shop. My hostel was the most interesting one I have been in yet. It had very mixed reviews online but was the only one I could find in my price range near the synagogue so there wasnt really another option. The staff is very friendly and the environment is very open. So open in fact, that there aren't really doors anywhere within the hostel. Nor lockers in which to lock up your stuff. They had a very nice common area there and I met some very  ccool and interesting people, but I left my wallet and valuables with some of the Israeli girls I met last week in their hotel.

Anyway, Shabbat was fantastic. The chabad there hosts Shabbat meals in the one kosher (and fantastic) restaurant- Gam Gam. I ate dinner on the canal at a table with over 100 people. The food was amazing, the people (mostly Israeli) were very interesting and friendly and the Chabad people themselves were chatting and singing and really just encouraging a wonderful environment. I also enjoyed shul, as this was the first synagogue that wasnt built for 500 people and being used by 15. I could actually hear the chazzan! (who I had made friends with on Friday).

The only downside of this past weekend was that I dislocated my toe, and am now kind of limping. So I have a few more days in Rome and then I am headed back to Israel and I must admit, I am ready to come home. I feel that I have gained so much from this adventure and I am so happy with where I am right now, but I am ready to get back to my life, or rather get started in a new city, a new apartment, and a new school.

Io Contadina Toscana

Thats right! I speak Italian now! Or at least, I can now say "I am a Tuscan farmer" as well as "Please pass the oil" and "Come on!"

I now get to say I am a Tuscan farmer as I have spent the past week and a half pruning and clearing the olive trees in Chianti country. I get up at 6 and feed the chickens and water the garden and walk the dogs (Oz and Charlie) and then head out to the olive fields and attack thorny brambles encroaching on the olive trees and climb up into the trees and cut out all the extra branches. I have become an expert tree climber and scythe-wielder. The thorns tremble when I approach. Around 11ish, I head back to the house, done with my farming for the day :) I then get to nap, swim in the pool, hang out with the family, and work in the studio. So, it is pretty much the best vacation ever.

And the best part is the people. The family is made up of Pascal and Kirsten and their sons Oliver and Rudi. Pascal is a hot air balloon pilot and I woke up at 5 one morning to go watch them launch the balloon. So cool. Kirsten is an artist and one of the most amazing people I have ever met. Aside from giving me free reign in her studio and introducing me to monoprintmaking, we have the most fascinating conversations about art and life and God and nature and she is truly expanding my mind. I adore her. Oliver is also pretty wonderful. He has a forge where he makes knives and such and he brought me in and let me hammer out some steel with him. He walks around half naked all the time with his hair hanging down his back and just seems one with the farm. Oh, and he is part of a Medieval sword fighting group that came for the weekend and I got to see them dress up and swordfight. Which was pretty cool. Rudi is 17 and very much a moody teenager. He also insists on speaking Italian all the time even though he does speak English. This doesn't stop him from being hilarious- I never have any idea what he is saying but his sound effects and facial expressions make it highly entertaining regardless. On top of the family, their friend Costina and her son Sebasiano (10) were here for the past week. Costina is the one that went out in the groves with me when the family had to go ballooning in the mornimg. She is a masseuse and Reiki healer and I got to learn all sorts of fascinating things about healing with energy (as well as getting a free session). Sebastiano only speaks Italian and follows Oliver around like a puppy, but he is super sweet and taught me all kinds of useful words like "burning" and "good night".

This past week as I fell into the rhythm of the farm I found that each one of these people have amazing things to teach me and I know that I have learned so much here. In addition, I have had a chance to teach them so much about Israel and Judaism- things they knew nothing about. I am loath to leave on Friday, but I sense that this time is coming to an end and as I cannot actually move here, it is time I moved on. I will be coming back though, for I have made relationships that are not limited to this short vacation.

I head to Florence on Friday and I am not sure how I will do switching back into tourist mode. I am looking forward to Shabbat in Florence, as the Chabad Rabbi will be around and I am ready for some meals that I don't have to halachically analyze to figure out what is kosher. I made Shabbat here this past week, and while it was a truly holy experience and I got to teach them all about Shabbat and introduce them to Challah and Havdalah, it was a little hard to have to keep saying, "sorry, I cant do that today".

Anyway, I am super happy and so glad that I decided to incorporate this farm into my time in Italy- I think this is an experience that has really changed my life.

Hope you are all surviving earthquakes and hurricanes and all the other craziness that is going on in the world while I am cocooned in the sweet countryside.

I laugh hysterically whenever I realize I am about to spend a month in Italy!

Ahhhh I am going to Italy in a week and a half!!!!

I spent all day yesterday finding and booking hostels in Venice, Rome, and Florence which a) made me realize how much money I will be spending on this vacation and b) made me realize I am leaving so so soon!! I kind of can't believe that I am really doing this. :D I also contacted the Chabad houses in Venice, Rome, and Florence, but I am still missing plans for one Shabbat, so if anyone has any suggestions, please share!

In other news, I was incredibly productive this week- I paid my tuition, opened my student file so that hopefully the government will pay me back for said tuition. I finally got through the licensing administration and had my first driving lesson. I will hopefully be able to take the test next week but it might have to wait until I get back from Italy. My driving instructor wants me to review the Israeli laws (he told me that the laws here are different then in America, where we can turn left on red. ?)

And the most exciting part of my week- Alon turned one!! I got to skype with him- which was super fun. He may have been more interested in smacking the keyboard than talking to me, but I still got to bask in his adorableness. 

Anyway, I am headed into Jerusalem for Shabbat with my friends. I hope you all have a wonderful Shabbat and week.

My encounters with the law

Ah yes, I promised you tales of my travails last week- so here is another story about Israeli bureaucracy.

So the big thing on my list right now is transferring my driver's license. As you may remember, I tried to do this before I left for America but the issue date on MD licenses is not the day you originally got your license, but the day you got that specific piece of plastic. This was a problem for me because my issue date was post-aliyah, thanks to that lovely day when I lost my wallet in Tel Aviv. (And you can only transfer a license if you had gotten it before you made aliyah). Anyway, I had to get a paper from the MVA while I was in America that said when I got my original license. It turns out they don't actually put this on your permanent driving record (It is listed as a "change of address") but when I went to the MVA they told me the only way to get that paperwork was for them to pull my original application off of microfilm, which would take longer than I had. 

Anyway, last week I went armed with my license and my MVA paperwork hoping that the English would confuse them enough that I could convince them that my paperwork was sufficient. Unfortunately, I spent so much time worrying about this little piece of paper that I forgot another one- my Teudat Oleh (Immigration certificate.) That was annoying, but fine, I would just go home and get it and go back the next day. So I went home. And I opened my nice orange file thing where I keep all that important stuff- and my teudat oleh was not there. I then ransacked my room, unpacked all of my suitcases, went through the garbage, went into Jerusalem and went through the apartment I had rented for a month, and finally came to the conclusion that I had lost my teudat oleh. Crap.

So I went online to figure out how one goes about getting a new one. It is a two step process (sounds simple, right?): 
1) I have to go to court and testify that I lost it.
2) I have to schedule an appointment with the Ministry of Immigration to get a new one.

Right, okay, go to court. Now, um, where do I find one of those?

Well after a few phone calls and some vague directions I figured out where the courthouse was and even got the required paperwork filled out before I left. So Wednesday morning comes about and I am of course running late getting out of the house. I catch a tremp into Jerusalem and as we enter the city I see the bus I need pull away from the stop. Luckily, the car I am in passes it and lets me out at the next intersection. Unluckily, this is one of those intersections where you have to wait for 5 different lights to cross one street. And more unluckily, when I ran across the red one, I ran right into the police officer waiting to ticket fools like me. And there goes the bus. I am somewhat ashamed to say that I played dumb American to get out of that ticket, Anyway, I finally got on a bus and found the courthouse and I still had about 40 minutes to get to work. Eek. 

At this point, I am standing in the information line behind a woman who simply refuses to move. She is not getting what she wants so she insists on simply standing there until the nice lady who cannot help her, does what she wants. The security guards come and she brushes them off. The other guy in line begs her to just go upstairs like they say, and finally, after what feels like forever, she leaves. I get up to the counter, get sent upstairs, wait in another line, finally get into the office and the lady says to me "This is not where you belong. Why did they send you here?" Really, lady? Like I know why information sent me to you? Im just doing what I am told and trying to get someone to stamp this darn paper because I have to be at work in 15 minutes.

As it turns out, the guy I need was standing right next to the front door. He has a little booth there and I walked right by him. So he's pretty cool, stamps my paper, takes some money, and I manage to walk out of the courthouse 1 minute late for work. Luckily, they are cool and were alright with my showing up 15 minutes late.

Anyway, I am on to step 2 this week. Lets hope it goes well because after that I get to dive back into the Israeli MVA and I am sure that will be a blast.

I GOT INTO GRAD SCHOOL!!

Woohoo!! Now I can stop worrying about not having a Plan B (I tried Ima, but I could come up with nothing better than becoming a hippie and farm-hopping across Italy) (Yes, I am already doing that, but not for the whole year).

I got an email on Tuesday that confused me a little but after some pondering, I decided it was, in fact, an acceptance letter. I will re-enact the conversation that went on in my head:

"Welcome to the Art Therapy Department"

I got in! and then, wait, or are they just saying hi?

Then the email asked me to fill out a form for my internship placement next year

Wait, so I got in?

"This is not your official acceptance letter- that will be coming from the main office of the University"

But I got in, right?

So I stared at the email for awhile, put it into Google Translate to make sure I was understanding it, and then decided, yes, this must be what an acceptance letter looks like. So starting on the 17th of October, I will be learning all sorts of fun things about mental disorders and art and some less fun things about research methods and scientific writing. This also means that I can now officially start looking for a home and could be moving as early as August 1!

In other news, at some point between yesterday (my Hebrew birthday) and Tuesday (my English birthday) I am crossing that line into 25-hooddom. I will be a quarter of a century old. As my 16 year old roommate told me- I am approaching the hill. So of course, I wanted to celebrate by throwing myself a party in a park with a moonbounce and gift bags and a giant ice cream cake. Unfortunately, I make about 600 shekel a month and am about to spend all of my savings on a vacation in Italy. So as much as I wanted a moonbounce, I settled for dinner at a restaurant with my good friends. Might splurge on an ice cream cake on Tuesday- after all, what better way to break a fast. (Note to God- what are you trying to say by dropping my birthday off on a fast day every year? I really haven't been partying that hard, you know!). I also just got my birthday present from my sister and her family and, I must say, nothing makes you as happy as your one year old nephew's signature on your birthday card :)

I have further travails I will regale you with next week because this is a happy email and I would like to keep it that way. As I was tremping (hitchhiking) into Jerusalem last night I had one of those moments of clarity where I just felt really lucky to be who I am and where I am at this moment. I think 25 is going to be a great year.

In the words of the great sage, Noam

"Nizrom" is one of the most important words I have learned while living in Israel. It means "to flow" but is generally used as "just go with it". It is helpful when you get lost or, more importantly, when you just don't know where you are going. As I nervously await news from U of Haifa and try not to worry about my life plan, I find myself frequently muttering "Nizrom" to myself and trying to shake off my stress. Though really, it is an attitude that is just crucial to living here.

For instance, on Sunday I went hiking in Ein Gedi with my friends Rami and Krystel, who were here on vacation. First we got on a bus with the craziest driver I have ever met. He rushed us all on to the bus as if he wasn't 20 minutes early telling us we could pay him later. Then, when I went up to pay him while he was driving like a maniac through the desert, his bus ticket machine was broken and he took my money without giving me a ticket. I later found out that he overcharged us. We ended up getting off at the wrong stop and found ourselves at a spa next to the Dead Sea- but alright, Nizrom. We caught another bus back and managed to start out hike just as the sun was at it's peak. Now there are two ways (that I know of) to hike Ein Gedi. The first is to go in through the entrance and wander up some waterfalls to more waterfalls and then back again. The second is to climb up the mountain a bit, then some more, then wander through the dry shade-less planes, through the dry boiling wadi and eventually down to those nice fresh waterfalls. We, of course, did the second one. Our hike alternated between near death and amazingness. We climbed up the side of a desert mountain at noon, which wasn't the brightest idea, and I, at least, nearly got heatstroke (do you "get" heatstroke? are there varying levels of heatstroke? I am rather uninformed on this subject). We eventually found some shade and had some lunch and then climbed down the dry wadi to the most beautiful view of the lush waterfalls below and the Dead Sea beyond. However, we could only see the waterfalls, and at about this point, we ran out of water (I know, very bad planning on our part). So we climbed back out of the wadi and eventually stumbled upon a stream which we deemed clean enough to drink from by using the very advanced method of looking at the water. (It's okay, it was totally safe to drink, we found out later.) This got us through the last dry stretch until we got to the waterfalls at the bottom and fell in. That part was heaven. And the truth is, at the end, it was an amazing hike, because I was with two people who just took everything in stride- as American as they may be, they've got the "Nizrom" mentality down pat.

The rest of the week felt wonderfully usual. I worked during the day, hung out with friends at night, got a sufficient amount of things done on my "To Do" list, and had some down time to read my book (it's in Hebrew!). It felt stable, and home-like, which is a really good for me in a time when I feel like my life is so up in the air. But, yalla, Nizrom.

Sometimes I have delayed emotional reactions

Do you ever cruise along on supreme confidence until the moment when you need it most and you suddenly find yourself overwhelmingly nervous?

Well that is pretty much what happened to me when I went to Haifa for my interview this week. Though I have known that nothing was official and keep meaning to come up with a Plan B, I have not actually done that because deep down inside I was pretty confident that I would have no problem getting into this Master's program. I even tried to get nervous the night before because I felt like I should be, but couldn't quite get it. Even though my bus took 45 minutes and I was nearly late, I was still doing okay. That is until I sat down with the other 15 women who had been called for this interview and eavesdropped on their conversation. Which was all about how hard it is to get into the art therapy program and how many of them were there for the second year, having been rejected the year before. Oh, great.

Of course, at the moment the three professors (also women- apparently no men are interested in art therapy) who would be interviewing us came in. The interview would be split into two parts- an individual project and a group project- both with the objective of drawing a picture that represents what art therapy means. I had a pretty good idea for the individual part, creating what is called a "Feelings Map" that allows you to chart out your various emotions and their interactions without having to find the words for it. This is a big part of art therapy- expression without words, so I thought this was a great idea. That is, until we all reconvened to talk about out drawings and I realized I did not have that much to say. This was further aggravated by the fact that I had to go second and had stupidly been thinking in English this whole time. So I fumbled through a short explanation of my drawing and then proceeded to feel more and more stupid as I listened to these Israelis all say things that sounded really smart and well worded in Hebrew. Ugh.

So when we were split into three groups, I was determined to show the professor monitoring us that I was not a total nincompoop and was in fact capable of speaking Hebrew. I think I actually did pretty well on this one, in terms of working with the group and standing out as the spectacular individual that I am. I also approached the professors afterwards to explain that, though my Hebrew may not be perfect, I will work very hard to make sure it is not a problem. They did not seem at all concerned about my Hebrew, but I left feeling rather nervous regardless.

This was the last step to being accepted, so I will hopefully know within a few weeks. I guess I should thank my odd mental state for at least waiting until now to let me get nervous. At least its only a few weeks, right?

I have also started looking for apartments in Haifa. I am at that point where I would really like to unpack. And have a home. And feel grounded. But as that will not be happening for a few more months, I will throw myself into planning my Italy trip as a distraction.

This week I met a man named Nissim Issim and was the only one in the room who thought it was funny

This week I decided to spice things up a bit and went to work in a doctor's office. To be more precise, my adopted dad's secretary was out for the week so I filled in for her. Originally I was a little scared. Mostly of the phone. I developed a serious fear of answering the phone while I was in the army. I was sure that something really important would happen, like us going to war or getting bombed by Iraq, and they would call to tell us to do something really important, and I would answer the phone. But of course, they would talk really fast and then hang up and I wouldn't know what had just happened and other dramatic events would ensue and we would lose the war all because I didn't understand what they said when I answered the phone. Given, this is an eye doctor's office, and not the Israeli Air Force (not that anything that occurred in my office would affect the outcome of a war. I hope.) but I was still rather nervous. But I was bored, unemployed, and he really needed the help. Plus, he believed I could do it, so I had to believe it to. As it turns out, most of his patients speak English. But really, I had 20 or so conversations in Hebrew and I was fine and apparently did not forget everything I know in the 5 months I was in America. Go me!

This was, however, a one week gig. BUT I did get another job working as a full time babysitter starting next week. I am taking over for my friend Shoshana since she is going to America for a month. The kid is adorable (though not as cute as Alon) and about 8 months old. His parents are awesome, and though the days will be rather long I am thinking of it as another opportunity to empathize with my sister. Shosh, we will have to swap "how to entertain a baby in the summer" ideas. (Or "how to entertain myself while watching a baby" ideas.)

I do now feel like my life has returned to the hectic state I prefer. It would be nice if there was some type of middle ground, but it the activity level in my life seems to be on an "all or nothing" scale. In addition to working, I regained my social skills this week and spent some quality time with friends I hadn't seen yet. This included getting spit up on by my friend's son, sitting on a street corner for 3 hours, and discovering that my favorite bar no longer serves all the foods that made it my favorite bar (these events did not occur at the same time), but all in all they were good experiences. I also got to go on an unofficial tour of Ein Kerem which was like discovering this secret little part of Jerusalem. There was bougainvillea everywhere and all these little secret gardens and nooks (I love nooks) interspersed with beautiful churches and cute little cafes. And apparently, in 1948 when all the Arabs left this neighborhood, the government was just giving the houses away to new immigrants. If only, if only!

In other news, my summer trip to Italy plans are actually being planned! (IN YOUR FACE EZ! This is one Kfi plan that will come to fruition!) I have found a farm in Tuscany run by an artist and a balloon pilot and will be there for two weeks at the end of August. I am super psyched because they are awesome. Now I just need to figure out what I will be doing the rest of the time I am in Italy and where I will be staying. All friends who have been to Italy: feel free to advise at this point. Also, there is an open invite out to join me! Art, farming, and Italy! What's not to like??

Anyway I will get going now. I am going to Haifa for Shabbat so that I can meet new people and hopefully find someone looking for a roommate. Still assuming I get in of course. I was called for a first round interview in a few weeks, so lets hope they see how amazing I am.

Life as a lazy bum

It is a good thing that this week contained a Jewish holiday. Otherwise I would have been really bored. Really, I should know this by now, but I don't do well with long transition periods. I much prefer to go directly from one thing to another. However, I forgot this and did not even bother to look for jobs before I got to Israel, telling myself that I would take a week or two to adjust and do my job searching then. Really though, I should only give myself a day or two because after that I start getting antsy.

Given, my summer job options aren't really so hot. Since I am planning on traveling starting mid-August, I am really only looking for work for 2 months. That basically leaves you with waitressing, babysitting, and cleaning. I have already discovered that I do not enjoy working in restaurants. Plus, the only way to make any money doing that is to work for a fancy one and they are unlikely to hire me for such a short time. Babysitting is also problematic. Unlike in America, where I could charge $15-$20 an hour, here the average rate is 25-35 shek- about $6-$8. So we are back to cleaning. A job that is doable for short periods of time and makes twice as much as babysitting. However, I have run into a short hitch. I responded to a few ads on a local craigslist-esque site and have had a few calls in return. Then a man called me asking when I was available etc, normal cleaning questions. Until he asked if I would clean in the nude. (No, it was not a joke). I of course freaked out, yelled, hung up, and then stood in shock for a few minutes before ranting on about disgusting men. And then this creepy image keeps flashing back into my head, and aside from being a totally weird and disgusting request- who the hell would want to clean with no clothes on?!?- it also has made me rather wary about advertising online and having to deal with pervs. So I am going back to babysitting. It may not pay as well, but the chances of being asked to do it naked are nonexistent (I sincerely hope). Also, I have some leads on babysitting jobs so I would not have to advertise online.

Anyway, then Shavuot came around and I could stop worrying about boredom/source of income for a bit. Shavuot is the holiday where we celebrate receiving the Torah. There are two big ways of celebrating: cheesecake and staying up all night learning. I am not really such a fan of either ("She doesn't like cheesecake?!?"), so I was not really sure how I would be celebrating. Luckily my friends Avi and Chama were hosting a small "let's sit around and eat cheesecake and learn for a bit". I much prefer this to the larger shiurim/lectures going on all around Jerusalem which I have tried and failed to get anything out of for the past two years. Also, in addition to cheesecake, they had homemade ice cream which was WAAAAYYYYY more exciting for me. Though they had called it for an hour, we ended up hanging out and talking about the story of Ruth (which is what we read on this holiday) until about 2am, leaving me tired, happy, and satisfied that I had appropriately celebrated receiving the Torah.

And now it is time for Shabbat once again. Hopefully next week will be more productive.

Honey, I'm Home!!

And so we meet again.

I have begun to appreciate some of the mysterious ways that God works. For instance: a few years back, on one of my many trips to Israel, I was officially the cheapest person ever and flew Polish Air. I sat next to a dog. They had no kosher food, so all I could eat was pudding and beer. Which might be okay on your typical 14 hour flight to Israel, but I, of course, has booked a flight with a ten hour layover in Warsaw. Oh, and it was on Christmas Eve. So I landed in Warsaw and discovered that the Polish do not believe in water fountains. I also learned that I do not know how to say "water" in Polish because I bought 3 different types of seltzer before running out of cash and giving up. And by giving up, I mean I spent 30 minutes opening, closing, shaking, opening, closing, shaking, my bottle of seltzer in an attempt to make it flat and more like water. For the record- this does not work. I then decided to take a nap and woke up in the Twilight Zone. Having forgotten that it was Christmas Eve, I was somewhat disturbed to wake up and find myself entirely alone. All the shops were closed. All the people were gone. All was quiet. I literally thought I had been trapped in an airport that I no longer believed had airplanes. I spent three hours wandering the airport looking for other life forms.I did eventually find people, and then a plane, but from that moment on I swore I would never be that cheap again.
Anyway, the point of this story, is that, had I not experienced such a terrible traveling experience, I would no doubt be much angrier about my recent flight home. Which also had no kosher food. And no beer. And my personal TV was broken. And my restless leg syndrome decided to expand to my arms (I do not even know how that is possible). And they lost my bags.

Either my Warsaw experience hardened me, or living in Israel has just left me more laid back, but once I got off the plane, I was just happy to be home. My friends picked me up at the airport bearing flowers and signs. My mostly broken telephone has been ringing with calls from friends excited to welcome me back. And my first full day back was Yom Yerushalayim- Jerusalem Day.

I had of course, fled to Efrat when I realized I had no clothing, and my adopted mother, in a misguided attempt to keep me from getting jetlag, took me to the neighborhood celebration hosted that night. Unfortunately, putting me in a dark room where I get to listen to someone speak in Hebrew is like giving me a sleeping pill and a glass of warm milk. She finally took me home when I started to drool on her shoulder. The following day-time celebrations were much more exciting. I slept late, my bags were delivered, and then I went into Jerusalem to join the thousands of people marching around the old city of Jerusalem waving Israeli flags. Jerusalem Day is the only day of the year when Jews can walk through any gate and any neighborhood in the old city. So of course, we all grab our flags and march through the Arab quarter singing and dancing. I am a little uncomfortable with this, as I understand how offensive the Arab residents find this, but at the same time, I believe in an undivided Jerusalem under Israeli rule. So though I do not sing or wave flags in their faces, I do take advantage of this opportunity to walk through a part of the city that is usually unsafe and closed off to me.

Thursday I woke up at about noon (I failed miserably in the battle against jetlag- though I partially blame the Israeli blinds that shut out all light, air, and noise) and went to the mall to get a new phone and plan. My phone itself is still suffering from a fatal attempt at swimming. And my plan is, well I don't really know what it is but it is not good. I sort of succeeded at both. I have a new phone, but no charger, and a new plan, but it does not come into effect until June 26th. Luckily, I, like my dear mother, am not much of a caller so this shouldn't have too much of an effect on my life.

Anyway I am happy to be back, settling in, and realizing all the things I need to get done in the near future. Let the adventures begin.

For Esther

Firstly, I just have to say, Shawn and Melissa's wedding was by far the greatest party I have ever been to. (Sorry for those of you whose weddings I have attended, but it's true). Anyway, more on that later.

I want to talk about Purim. Purim is the upcoming Jewish holiday in which we read the story of Esther and celebrate not being the objects of genocide. It is a happy holiday. We put on costumes, give out food and charity, host a big meal, and in general drink a lot of wine and make a lot of noise. In addition, the entire month of Adar, in which this holiday falls, is considered a month of joy and pranks. It is like April Fool's Day for a month. This year is especially exciting because, due to the leap year, we have two months of Adar.

I recently received an email from my friend Esti discussing the recent slaughter of the Fogel family that occurred in Israel last Friday night. This, in addition to other tragedies that had occurred in the last two months made her ask "what the hell? what is going on? God, what is happening?". As she described the sorrow and confusion she was feeling, I felt guilty for feeling so happy in my post-wedding euphoria. And yet I understand her. I have experienced heart-wrenching loss in the month of Adar, I have experienced the confusion and pain brought about by senseless tragedy in this "happy, joyous" month. I have had Purims where I simply did not have the strength to dress up, was not in the mood to sing and dance.

Last night my father called Purim a "kid's" holiday. The dressing up, the treats, the noisemakers- I had to admit, it is kind of juvenile. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Purim is about so much more. Everyone knows the story, and yet do we notice that there is not very much joy in it? Today we are fasting, as all the Jews fasted upon Esther's request before she went to the king to beg him to save the Jews. This is a story of near-destruction. Of a queen that had to hide her heritage out of fear for her life, of a people that were on the brink of being slaughtered by their more-than-willing neighbors. Our "salvation" was the chance to defend ourselves. Yes there is a happy ending, the bad guy gets killed, the good guys get promoted, and the Jews live. Do our celebrations reflect this whole story? Or just the simple happy ending?

I have a professor who keeps telling my class that our twenties are the best years of our lives, that "It's all downhill from here". When I told my nearly-80 year old grandmother this last week, she scoffed. She told me that the best year of her life was 40. At that point she knew who she was, what she wanted, and what she loved. It is the perfect balance of experience and ability. I liked this idea, not only because it gives me another 15 years before I "peak", but because it values a balance.

I think that when we are young, my father is right, Purim is juvenile. It is a chance to get a fun costume and lots of candy. As we get older we get excited about the socially-encouraged drinking aspect. But as we mature, we become more well-acquainted with pain. We begin to understand pessimism and develop our doubts about the goodness of humanity and the reasoning of God. I have seen people lose their faith- in God and in humanity. And this makes me believe that Purim is even more important for adults than it is for children.

This is our chance to feel joy, even if it is senseless. It is a holiday for appreciating the ridiculous, laughing at the silly, and enjoying the simply pleasure of good company and good food. The Jews of Shushan experienced a senseless discrimination, a baseless hatred- something that our history is rife with. And they survived it. As Esti said "death is what makes life worth living". It is the experience of senseless pain and tragedy that makes senseless joy and ridiculousness so much more valuable. Because on Friday a family can be murdered and on Sunday a marriage can begin another one. I don't think Adar is a month of joy, as in every other month, horrible things will keep happening. But it is an opportunity to feel joy, if for no other reason then that we are still alive.

As I said to Esti, I hope you find joy this week, I hope you revel in it and love it and can feel that, in some way, it balances all that pain and hurt.

Halfway Done

Well folks, I have officially reached the halfway point!
Well maybe not officially, I haven't really done the math, but I just finished all my midterms and am now on spring break so it feels like halfway. Plus, in one more week I will be attending the HIGHLIGHT of my time in America, the BEST (okay, well second best, because Alon always comes first) reason to come back to America...(drumroll please).... Shawn and Melissa's WEDDING!!!!!!!!!!

This wedding has been the most exciting thing that I have been looking forward to ever since I knew I was going to be here to make it. It has been my consolation every time I had to sit by my computer waiting for someone to post pictures on Facebook of the weddings I missed in Israel. Now I just have to find something to wear and I can go spend the day in Miami with all my friends from college, some of whom I haven't seen in two years :)

It will also be a lovely way to end my spring break as I am spending most of it in New Hampshire, where spring has very clearly not yet sprung. While DC has been acting like the tease it is, interspersing days of wintery windiness with sunshine and high temperatures, it still made me feel like spring was just around the corner. But as I drove north today the temperature slowly dropped, and the snow began to accumulate. I am now bundled up at my Bubbie's with a few feet of the white stuff outside. Apparently all the flooding roads are a sign of spring here, but it just isn't quite as exciting as reading about the plans for the Cherry Blossom Festival in the morning paper.

 

But no matter what the weather or where I am, the exciting part of this week is where I am not. I am very happy that I have one week in which I do not have to sit in class. While the topics we are covering have become much more interesting- we have moved past Freud, Freud, Freud, to the current generations trend towards later marriage, how a baby learns to speak, and various types of anxiety disorders. We watched video's of Milgram's study, read case studies on people with Disassociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality Disorder) and read about an experiment where the doctor checked himself into a mental institute to see if anyone could tell he was sane. The material is all very interesting, but unfortunately, it is mostly not well taught.

Ranging from terrible examples to professors oversharing about their personal life (which leads to students oversharing about their personal life), there have been certain professors that,well, suck. There is one class that I actually think I could teach better than the professor because at least I have read the book. I was given a test this past week and was told that each question was worth 2.4 points and there would be 2 points extra credit because she got a little confused when trying to calculate how many questions to put on the test. I have another teacher who has yet to give us a test, a homework assignment, a reading assignment, or a quiz. It took him a month to give us a syllabus and he has only now realized that he has done nothing in terms of assessment. Oh, and I chewed out one of my professors last week after she went on a rant against alternative therapies. She did send out an apology letter to the class, so I don't think it will badly affect my grade, but there is just only so much stupidity that I can handle.

Which is why I am now going to go back to enjoying my break :)