That was an awkwardly long silence

I have to say I am impressed. It has been almost two months since I sent an email and I have not had a single complaint! Well at least not directly- apparently my father is bearing the brunt of it because you all think I am too busy to write. Which is a little bit true. Okay, a lot true. 

I passed my three years in Israel marker and thought- "Wow, have I really been sending out an email for 3 years?" That's like a really long time. And then I thought that perhaps it was time to retire the email. I mean, if I go any further I will have to keep doing it forever (3 times is a permanent commitment in Jewish law). 

But the truth is, I like sending out the email, and I like hearing back from you. I don't think I need to do it as often as I did when I first got here, but it is not something I want to give up altogether. The truth is I have built a network of support here that I feel very comfortable with. But that does not devalue the support that I receive from you all, and so I will try to continue to send out emails when exciting things are happening to me. 

I have finished my first semester of grad school. Well almost. Today is my last day of class, and then I have three weeks for finals. Oh, and for make up classes. Because my teachers went on strike this semester and now I have to come in to make up for the classes we missed. This is so much less fun then a snow day. Anyway, I am having a hard time believing that the semester is already over, and I am a little bit terrified of my finals, but it has all made me realize how much I love what I am learning. It is like every little piece is coming together to create this infinitely larger picture of art therapy- expanding my understanding in such a way that it is affecting my whole life, not just my studies. 

I had a chavruta (one-on-one peer session where you learn something Jewish) last night with my friend Lorenzo, and I just felt like everything I was learning was directly relating to my life and to my art. I have been artistic for as long as I can remember, and seriously studied it in my undergraduate degree- but the things that I am making now, as part of my exploration of art therapy, are so fulfilling and enlightening that they are changing my life. Ill learn something with Lorenzo and the next day, I will see how it relates to art. I will make something with the student I work with as part of my internship and later in the day I will realize how it relates to my relationships. I will come home and paint something and look at it and realize it is all about Hashem (God). And I am learning to understand and verbalize the things that I have only been able to visually express before. 

So basically, my life is awesome and I love it.

Outside of my deep artistic and spiritual development- I'm also feeling growth as an Israeli. I have officially been dubbed the "Abba/Father" of my apartment because I have apparently become the adult of the apartment. Well, at least, I am the one that deals with the landlord, with the internet company, with the water taxes, with the mold on the ceiling, and the power outages, and I am the one that fixes our table and paints our walls. I'm also the one that says kiddush on Friday. Ophra and Elisheva are competing for the "Mom" position, which is awesome for me, because they bake a lot of cookies. They also give me this mom-look when I stay out too late that would make my own mother proud. 

Rafi came to visit over Channukah and we got to do all sorts of fun things together, most of which involved beer, but hey, we had a really good time and it was a nice preview of the fun to come when he moves here in August (!!!). 

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.