Presence is something that surrounds us and supports us. Daily, we are surrounded by people who hold the world around us together. Like glue, they provide the support network necessary to breathe clean air and to put your right foot in front of the other in the creation of a stride. Without presence, we would not be able to be the people we are. We rely on others, on the world, for the simple, common answer of “this is how the world works”.
During times of loneliness I often look around and search for presence. The lonely feeling is created by a lack in the presence of the support network we need to propel us on our daily journeys, beginning with stepping out of the front door early in the morning.
Presence is a strong force. It’s not about being surrounded by thousands of people or about being home alone late at night. It’s not about sitting at a big family dinner with everyone from your parents to your third cousins present. It’s not about being in a classroom of twenty familiar faces. Presence is about when you have what you need, who you need, surrounding and supporting you. Simply being there, listening, holding, and comforting another is a stronger force than anything I can imagine. Being attentive to someone, with open ears and open arms is the most attentive thing you can do. It’s selfless. It’s caring for someone and putting your own needs aside. It’s nodding, repeating, and agreeing, even when you disagree.
I learned through an experience this week that presence can comfort the saddest of us. It can calm the frustrated, sooth the hurt, and provide for you in the hardest moments. My love for those who have reached out to me, in good times and bad, with open ears, arms, and most importantly, hearts, has drawn me to understand the importance of presence and that I know I must make it a priority to reciprocate this feeling to others around me.
Wednesday, May 27
Tuesday, May 26
welcome back
The simple phrase “Have a great day” is beautiful to both say and hear. My ability to properly converse in America has brought me back to my positive self. I am able to say what I want, when I want, to who I want. Communication is so vital to functioning in the society you are in. I need to get to the point where I am able to do this properly in Israel or I don’t see a future in happily living there for the rest of my life. I’m sure I can learn enough Hebrew to survive and function as part of society, but the basic fact that English is my native language, the language where I can fluidly express my thoughts, feelings, and ideas, is something that cannot be ignored.
I went to Target yesterday and realized how easy it is to walk through one doorway and see everything you would ever need for life right before your eyes. Really, this doesn’t happen everywhere. Don’t get my wrong, I love shopping in Israel but the difficulty of searching at a different store for each of the fifteen items on my shopping list can get very tiring.
I’m in New York though. It’s not so temporary either. I have an apartment that I will officially move into on Monday. I have friends who live subway rides away throughout the island of Manhattan. I feel like a small fish in a huge, endless ocean. I don’t know any of the tricks to living here and I don’t know where to begin. But I do know that I have to begin somewhere and that I will begin somewhere and that soon enough, I will get to a point where I am comfortable.
I can’t believe how tumultuous my arrival in America was and I take that as a strong sign that America is not the place for me, despite my positive communication and shopping experiences. I feel like the stuffed animal in the toy vending machine, while my family is the claw. It has a terrible grip on me. It’s barely holding me at all and my fur is about to disconnect from my body and drop me flat on my face. But it hasn’t yet. I’m just dangling there. Hanging over the world, struggling to sit up straight but still being physically supported by the claw above.
I need to be dropped. I need to fall, hard. I need to experience the world without the claw, from the bottom, with everyone else. I need to find my way up again, financially, socially, and emotionally. I can’t dangle anymore because it hurts too much. I’m not being held like a winning stuffed animal would prior to being dropped down into the prize bin.
Separation is hard, especially from those who bring you into the world and ultimately raise you. I don’t think this should ever stop, but in my own life, it will. I’m sorry if people get hurt along the way but I need to take out the loans, settle into this new city (and ultimately into a new country), and face the world for the first time without being held up at all.
I went to Target yesterday and realized how easy it is to walk through one doorway and see everything you would ever need for life right before your eyes. Really, this doesn’t happen everywhere. Don’t get my wrong, I love shopping in Israel but the difficulty of searching at a different store for each of the fifteen items on my shopping list can get very tiring.
I’m in New York though. It’s not so temporary either. I have an apartment that I will officially move into on Monday. I have friends who live subway rides away throughout the island of Manhattan. I feel like a small fish in a huge, endless ocean. I don’t know any of the tricks to living here and I don’t know where to begin. But I do know that I have to begin somewhere and that I will begin somewhere and that soon enough, I will get to a point where I am comfortable.
I can’t believe how tumultuous my arrival in America was and I take that as a strong sign that America is not the place for me, despite my positive communication and shopping experiences. I feel like the stuffed animal in the toy vending machine, while my family is the claw. It has a terrible grip on me. It’s barely holding me at all and my fur is about to disconnect from my body and drop me flat on my face. But it hasn’t yet. I’m just dangling there. Hanging over the world, struggling to sit up straight but still being physically supported by the claw above.
I need to be dropped. I need to fall, hard. I need to experience the world without the claw, from the bottom, with everyone else. I need to find my way up again, financially, socially, and emotionally. I can’t dangle anymore because it hurts too much. I’m not being held like a winning stuffed animal would prior to being dropped down into the prize bin.
Separation is hard, especially from those who bring you into the world and ultimately raise you. I don’t think this should ever stop, but in my own life, it will. I’m sorry if people get hurt along the way but I need to take out the loans, settle into this new city (and ultimately into a new country), and face the world for the first time without being held up at all.
Monday, May 18
a winding road
My days left in Israel are rapidly transforming into memories while slowly disappearing before my eyes. I have a mere seven days left here on this trip to Israel. I currently sit here as an American tourist in a foreign country. I don't even have a student visa. Next time I come back, I may be Israeli. I have many feelings toward this (making aliyah) but I don't know how to put them into words yet.
This trip has been fabulous so far. I don't know how I could ever manage to put these last few months into words either. My growth, both physically and spiritually, has far surpassed any of my aspirations coming into this experience. I have learned so much about myself in relation to the world around me, to Judaism, to God, and to my individual growth. I have experienced people and places that surpass anything I could have ever envisioned. I have seen people dressed in so many different ways and speaking so many different languages. I have experienced the world through a special, unique lens that has allowed me to become saturated in the culture around me. At times I felt as if I were drowning but it was always a good drowning, one where I was still breathing. Being overwhelmed (especially on a spiritual level) became a common feeling. I learned to open my eyes a lot wider on this trip. There were days when I would wake up, look around me, and not believe where I was. Whether it was submersed in a sea of black hats on the 2 going home, driving a friend's sports car around the Kineret, walking into Magen David Adom all alone to donate blood, or sitting on a picnic blanket while bbqing at Gan Sacher for Independence Day with friends, I was always somewhere new. There were weeks that I would travel for hours upon hours across the country and back, experiencing desert, sea, lakes, mountains, city, and resorts, all within days.
I sit here on the staircase at school and look around me. I see faces walking by my that I have known for a very short period of time. Yet somehow, they have become my best friends. We have built something together. We have built ourselves, our community, our world. We have gone through the good and the bad, the educational and the not-so-educational, the bar nights and the movie nights. Together, we have questioned ourselves and the world around us. Our conversations have become the thread that has woven itself through the past few months and leaves me here today. I am filled with the words of many languages, spoken from many people, that I will take with my for the rest of my life.
I have realized that I am capable of many things. I am in control of my life for the first time ever. Financially, I have come into myself. I have learned to budget my money, my time, and my education. I have begun to understand the consequences of actions, and have really seen the importance of analyzing causes and effects prior to making big decisions. I have learned balance. Emotionally, I have discovered outlets of support, ranging from teachers, to close friends, to my journal. I have learned how to be independent and how to have alone time. I couldn't do that before. I would cry from the fear of being alone. But I have realized that being alone is beautiful. I experienced this for the first time on an independent, spontaneous trip to Pisa, Italy. I traveled there, explored, and learned. I took pictures, soaked in the Italian sun, and became one with the world around me. I felt content that day while sitting on the bright green grass underneath the leaning tower.
So this winding road must continue. And on it, you will find me, moving along. Whether it be through an airplane, a car, a train, a bus, or simply by moving my feet, I will somehow reach the next destination on my journey. My life has become a puzzle that I have realized is not worth solving. I don't know how to solve it. Even if all the pieces are sitting right before me on the table, I will not be able to solve it correctly. And every time I think I can complete it, I need to take a step back and realize that it's not even my job to complete it. There is much less out of our hands than in them.
I'm scared for the future, but that's normal. I'm scared for graduate school, for moving to New York City, for balancing being a religious Jew and a typical American girl at the same time. I don't know what to expect. But in two years, I will be a social worker. A real, live social worker, with the abilities, both intellectually and on paper, to counsel others. I will be the adult. Soon, I will be cooking dinners and building a home of my own. I will look around and for some reason, I think I'll still be just as scared as I am now. It's part of growing up, and contrary to what many believe, growing up isn't just something that happens when you're young.
This trip has been fabulous so far. I don't know how I could ever manage to put these last few months into words either. My growth, both physically and spiritually, has far surpassed any of my aspirations coming into this experience. I have learned so much about myself in relation to the world around me, to Judaism, to God, and to my individual growth. I have experienced people and places that surpass anything I could have ever envisioned. I have seen people dressed in so many different ways and speaking so many different languages. I have experienced the world through a special, unique lens that has allowed me to become saturated in the culture around me. At times I felt as if I were drowning but it was always a good drowning, one where I was still breathing. Being overwhelmed (especially on a spiritual level) became a common feeling. I learned to open my eyes a lot wider on this trip. There were days when I would wake up, look around me, and not believe where I was. Whether it was submersed in a sea of black hats on the 2 going home, driving a friend's sports car around the Kineret, walking into Magen David Adom all alone to donate blood, or sitting on a picnic blanket while bbqing at Gan Sacher for Independence Day with friends, I was always somewhere new. There were weeks that I would travel for hours upon hours across the country and back, experiencing desert, sea, lakes, mountains, city, and resorts, all within days.
I sit here on the staircase at school and look around me. I see faces walking by my that I have known for a very short period of time. Yet somehow, they have become my best friends. We have built something together. We have built ourselves, our community, our world. We have gone through the good and the bad, the educational and the not-so-educational, the bar nights and the movie nights. Together, we have questioned ourselves and the world around us. Our conversations have become the thread that has woven itself through the past few months and leaves me here today. I am filled with the words of many languages, spoken from many people, that I will take with my for the rest of my life.
I have realized that I am capable of many things. I am in control of my life for the first time ever. Financially, I have come into myself. I have learned to budget my money, my time, and my education. I have begun to understand the consequences of actions, and have really seen the importance of analyzing causes and effects prior to making big decisions. I have learned balance. Emotionally, I have discovered outlets of support, ranging from teachers, to close friends, to my journal. I have learned how to be independent and how to have alone time. I couldn't do that before. I would cry from the fear of being alone. But I have realized that being alone is beautiful. I experienced this for the first time on an independent, spontaneous trip to Pisa, Italy. I traveled there, explored, and learned. I took pictures, soaked in the Italian sun, and became one with the world around me. I felt content that day while sitting on the bright green grass underneath the leaning tower.
So this winding road must continue. And on it, you will find me, moving along. Whether it be through an airplane, a car, a train, a bus, or simply by moving my feet, I will somehow reach the next destination on my journey. My life has become a puzzle that I have realized is not worth solving. I don't know how to solve it. Even if all the pieces are sitting right before me on the table, I will not be able to solve it correctly. And every time I think I can complete it, I need to take a step back and realize that it's not even my job to complete it. There is much less out of our hands than in them.
I'm scared for the future, but that's normal. I'm scared for graduate school, for moving to New York City, for balancing being a religious Jew and a typical American girl at the same time. I don't know what to expect. But in two years, I will be a social worker. A real, live social worker, with the abilities, both intellectually and on paper, to counsel others. I will be the adult. Soon, I will be cooking dinners and building a home of my own. I will look around and for some reason, I think I'll still be just as scared as I am now. It's part of growing up, and contrary to what many believe, growing up isn't just something that happens when you're young.
Monday, April 27
Spring Vacation
Sweet Home Arizona
I haven’t written in a while and I apologize to those who were anticipating more updates from my adventures abroad. I just concluded Pesach break, which, as you can probably tell, is quite a bit longer than the actual holiday. I traveled North (to Drew’s Kibbutz), South (to Eilat), and West (to Florence and Pisa, Italy) and had many adventures that would take much too long to write about. School is now back in session and I moved up a level so now things are a little more challenging. Yesterday was our first day of classes and it was very long (like all Sundays). It’s been months and I still have no adjusted to functioning like a normal human being on Sundays, especially when you function like a normal person and go out on Saturday nights. Somehow, this system still perplexes me. And somehow, Israelis function within it just fine.
As a result of my busy day yesterday, I woke up late, and took the bus to school at noon. ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ was playing on the bus radio and of course it made me miss Arizona. Every time I hear that song I think of ‘Sweet Home Arizona’ playing loudly at the Big Bang. I miss those nights. I miss singing at the top of my lungs and dancing around with my best friends. I know this is a normal feeling but sometimes, like this morning, it just catches up with me. If I had stayed in Arizona longer… Okay, can’t play the ‘If’ game. I know things will be a lot easier in the fall when more of the people I care so much about are in the same place as me. I want to fast forward through the summer and all my classes and get on with my life in Israel. I know that’s not the best attitude because it’s definitely not ‘living in the moment’ but I can’t help it. My feelings toward being with the people closest to me are too strong and I can’t resist missing them every day.
I could take this entry just about anywhere because there really has been so much going on. A few weeks ago, I went to Eilat with a few friends and we had a great, relaxing vacation. We layed out at the beach or the pool almost every day. I met the lifeguard at our hotel and we actually started speaking in Hebrew. This was a first for me because I never use the language. I’m some type of combination of embarrassed, shy, and nervous and never speak up even when I know how to say something. So, after him prying for a while, I opened up and we began speaking. It was nice and refreshing to know that I could do it and when I made a mistake it was okay. I got really tan that week and really became closer with my friends from school. It was nice to spend quality time with them so far from our academic environment.
After Eilat was Pesach. This is the only holiday I have ever cared about – quite common amongst secular Jews living in America. Because of this, I knew I had to spend the seder with someone special, so that someone ended up being Rabbi Manning and his family. I realized very quickly that I was in the right place. I had Nina by one side and Rabbi Manning’s son Asher on the other. I was comfortable, understood what was going on, and contributed. I felt as close to being with my own family as possible. The seder was quite long… much longer than I am used to. But, it was a lot of fun. During Chol hamoed (the middle days of the holiday) I went up North to my friend Drew’s kibbutz. It was an unforgettable experience. We had so much fun together. We cooked all day on Friday for Shabbat and made unbelievable meat, fish, and soup dishes. She brought me on a tour of the kibbutz (I had really never seen a place like this before) and fell in love with the North immediately. The trees and animals, the hiking, the people, the culture – it was beautiful. We drove through the Gilboa mountains, drove to Tiberias and had a fancy dinner on the water (where Netanyahu was also eating), and went to Haifa to see a movie. I was so relaxed being up there. I watched television (not too much, just the Red Sox on repeat), began reading a fabulous book (more about that later), and really felt comfortable with myself, a common theme that spreads across this entire Pesach break. I felt comfortable wearing normal clothes (and yes, sometimes that included larger than life pants) and felt comfortable exploring on my own. The last day of the holiday I spent at Moshav Modiin at a wonderful family who I met a few weeks back. I felt similarly there as I had felt at the Kibbutz. I was very comfortable, very happy, very positive. There was singing and dancing and delicious food and very dynamic personalities surrounding me the entire time.
About ten minutes after returning to Jerusalem that night, I realized I needed to leave. I know, this is terrible. And really, it’s not an insult to the city because of course Jerusalem is a fabulous place. It is probably the most important city to me in the world. But my specific environment in Jerusalem, which always begins while waiting for the buses to Har Nof, is not where I belong. It’s difficult but at the same time, I know it is all a part of this important experience I am having. It’s just a little culture shocking when I get back from trips from the North or the South… or even across town.
So the book Drew let me read is called ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ and documents a woman’s travels across Italy, India, and Indonesia. She is searching for herself and somehow finds herself in each of these places, while picking up the language, meditation techniques, and new friends along the way. While reading the first section on Italy, I was immediately inspired to go there. So, I went online, booked a flight, and was now going to Rome three days later. I called up my roommate from freshmen year and I asked to stay with her and her sisters in Florence and then went into Shabbat knowing that I would be leaving first thing Sunday morning.
I flew to Florence feeling like I was a bird. I could do anything if I spread my wings and took off. I landed, navigated my way from Rome to Florence while making friends (Israelis!) along the way, and met Elyse at the train station in Florence. I couldn’t have been happier or freer. I spent the next few days sightseeing and spending quality time with her and her sisters. Florence is a truly remarkable city. I have a lot of close friends who have studied abroad there and they have never said a negative thing about it – and they were right. I toured around by myself a lot but also with the girls. I got to spend Elyse and Lindsey’s 21st birthday with them and we celebrated all night long. One of my favorite parts of Florence was seeing the synagogue. It was the nicest synagogue I had ever seen and is thought of as one of the most beautiful in all of Europe. I felt very small inside of it but as the same time, like I fit in perfectly. I was in a foreign city but I felt very at home. It’s a very unique feeling. I felt the same way when I went to shul in Paris, in Prague, and with Jews in many other places. The language, the culture, the overall feeling really make something very foreign seem perfectly comfortable.
So overall, the travels of Pesech break were incredible. I learned a lot about myself and about the world around me. I will try to write more often from now on because there are an infinite amount of topics to write about while in Israel – I just need to find the time to do it!
I haven’t written in a while and I apologize to those who were anticipating more updates from my adventures abroad. I just concluded Pesach break, which, as you can probably tell, is quite a bit longer than the actual holiday. I traveled North (to Drew’s Kibbutz), South (to Eilat), and West (to Florence and Pisa, Italy) and had many adventures that would take much too long to write about. School is now back in session and I moved up a level so now things are a little more challenging. Yesterday was our first day of classes and it was very long (like all Sundays). It’s been months and I still have no adjusted to functioning like a normal human being on Sundays, especially when you function like a normal person and go out on Saturday nights. Somehow, this system still perplexes me. And somehow, Israelis function within it just fine.
As a result of my busy day yesterday, I woke up late, and took the bus to school at noon. ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ was playing on the bus radio and of course it made me miss Arizona. Every time I hear that song I think of ‘Sweet Home Arizona’ playing loudly at the Big Bang. I miss those nights. I miss singing at the top of my lungs and dancing around with my best friends. I know this is a normal feeling but sometimes, like this morning, it just catches up with me. If I had stayed in Arizona longer… Okay, can’t play the ‘If’ game. I know things will be a lot easier in the fall when more of the people I care so much about are in the same place as me. I want to fast forward through the summer and all my classes and get on with my life in Israel. I know that’s not the best attitude because it’s definitely not ‘living in the moment’ but I can’t help it. My feelings toward being with the people closest to me are too strong and I can’t resist missing them every day.
I could take this entry just about anywhere because there really has been so much going on. A few weeks ago, I went to Eilat with a few friends and we had a great, relaxing vacation. We layed out at the beach or the pool almost every day. I met the lifeguard at our hotel and we actually started speaking in Hebrew. This was a first for me because I never use the language. I’m some type of combination of embarrassed, shy, and nervous and never speak up even when I know how to say something. So, after him prying for a while, I opened up and we began speaking. It was nice and refreshing to know that I could do it and when I made a mistake it was okay. I got really tan that week and really became closer with my friends from school. It was nice to spend quality time with them so far from our academic environment.
After Eilat was Pesach. This is the only holiday I have ever cared about – quite common amongst secular Jews living in America. Because of this, I knew I had to spend the seder with someone special, so that someone ended up being Rabbi Manning and his family. I realized very quickly that I was in the right place. I had Nina by one side and Rabbi Manning’s son Asher on the other. I was comfortable, understood what was going on, and contributed. I felt as close to being with my own family as possible. The seder was quite long… much longer than I am used to. But, it was a lot of fun. During Chol hamoed (the middle days of the holiday) I went up North to my friend Drew’s kibbutz. It was an unforgettable experience. We had so much fun together. We cooked all day on Friday for Shabbat and made unbelievable meat, fish, and soup dishes. She brought me on a tour of the kibbutz (I had really never seen a place like this before) and fell in love with the North immediately. The trees and animals, the hiking, the people, the culture – it was beautiful. We drove through the Gilboa mountains, drove to Tiberias and had a fancy dinner on the water (where Netanyahu was also eating), and went to Haifa to see a movie. I was so relaxed being up there. I watched television (not too much, just the Red Sox on repeat), began reading a fabulous book (more about that later), and really felt comfortable with myself, a common theme that spreads across this entire Pesach break. I felt comfortable wearing normal clothes (and yes, sometimes that included larger than life pants) and felt comfortable exploring on my own. The last day of the holiday I spent at Moshav Modiin at a wonderful family who I met a few weeks back. I felt similarly there as I had felt at the Kibbutz. I was very comfortable, very happy, very positive. There was singing and dancing and delicious food and very dynamic personalities surrounding me the entire time.
About ten minutes after returning to Jerusalem that night, I realized I needed to leave. I know, this is terrible. And really, it’s not an insult to the city because of course Jerusalem is a fabulous place. It is probably the most important city to me in the world. But my specific environment in Jerusalem, which always begins while waiting for the buses to Har Nof, is not where I belong. It’s difficult but at the same time, I know it is all a part of this important experience I am having. It’s just a little culture shocking when I get back from trips from the North or the South… or even across town.
So the book Drew let me read is called ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ and documents a woman’s travels across Italy, India, and Indonesia. She is searching for herself and somehow finds herself in each of these places, while picking up the language, meditation techniques, and new friends along the way. While reading the first section on Italy, I was immediately inspired to go there. So, I went online, booked a flight, and was now going to Rome three days later. I called up my roommate from freshmen year and I asked to stay with her and her sisters in Florence and then went into Shabbat knowing that I would be leaving first thing Sunday morning.
I flew to Florence feeling like I was a bird. I could do anything if I spread my wings and took off. I landed, navigated my way from Rome to Florence while making friends (Israelis!) along the way, and met Elyse at the train station in Florence. I couldn’t have been happier or freer. I spent the next few days sightseeing and spending quality time with her and her sisters. Florence is a truly remarkable city. I have a lot of close friends who have studied abroad there and they have never said a negative thing about it – and they were right. I toured around by myself a lot but also with the girls. I got to spend Elyse and Lindsey’s 21st birthday with them and we celebrated all night long. One of my favorite parts of Florence was seeing the synagogue. It was the nicest synagogue I had ever seen and is thought of as one of the most beautiful in all of Europe. I felt very small inside of it but as the same time, like I fit in perfectly. I was in a foreign city but I felt very at home. It’s a very unique feeling. I felt the same way when I went to shul in Paris, in Prague, and with Jews in many other places. The language, the culture, the overall feeling really make something very foreign seem perfectly comfortable.
So overall, the travels of Pesech break were incredible. I learned a lot about myself and about the world around me. I will try to write more often from now on because there are an infinite amount of topics to write about while in Israel – I just need to find the time to do it!
Tuesday, March 17
Jerusalem, in the palm of your hand.
Today was breathtaking yet all I can think about right now was how delicious my frozen yogurt was a little while ago down the street. Will write more about this very, very soon. I am so tired from hiking!
Monday, March 16
Defining Moments
Yesterday was terrible.
I woke up this morning entirely not in the mood to go to school so I slept through my alarm, with all five snoozes included. Soon after the fifth, I got a phone call that my interview for YU was actually scheduled for today and the woman and myself had both made errors saying "See you Tuesday" the last time we spoke. I ended up waking up faster than expected and have been in a daze for the last two hours.
I think I'm just being moody. I spoke with Rabbi Shurin for a while yesterday about all of the things bothering me and I felt comforted afterward. Not exactly better, but comforted. I felt secure with my feelings but still upset that I'm feeling so saturated with everything going on.
Today I get to see where my life takes me. I'm curious if that place will be Israel or New York - or some interesting combination of both. I don't know which I prefer and I know that today is definitely not my most Zionistic day being here. I am praying that my lack of enthusiasm does not show through my big smile and pretty outfit.
I felt secure with my decisions last week and insecure with with them now. These are big decisions. I'm a real adult, with a draining bank account, with big decisions on the line. I apparently have not "found myself" yet as a Jewish woman, though Rabbi Shurin attempted to convince me otherwise.
When you become religious in America, you're given one option: Move forward. It's a black and white game and you're on one side of the spectrum no matter how you look at it. The last two months have been a whirlwind for me because I have been exposed to so many different types of Jews. I was with close friends in Boston, New York, and London. And of course, close friends in Israel. I was surrounded by tons of "Modern Orthodox" and "Traditional" Jews... and something (well, many things) about this lifestyle greatly appealed to me. I like how these are categories, but within these categories, there is so much flexibility and what appears to be a lesser degree of judgement. I see judgement continually while living in a true "frum" environment and it is absolutely sickening me. I can't handle being around it and I don't want to be a part of it. I mentioned to Rabbi Shurin that it almost reminds me to extreme Islam and how they abuse the words in their holy scriptures. I've been experiencing the same thing in my own religion and I can't bear to be around it right now. I know it's important to not judge Judaism but the Jew, but sometimes, it's just too hard to do otherwise.
I was speaking with a girl in school the other day about the time table for a swimming pool at a local hotel and as we were talking, I could feel myself becoming more and more excited. Images of my memories lifeguarding at the YMCA in Boston and the PAC-10 pool in Arizona were flying through my mind. Splashing with friends, swimming laps, teaching lessons to little kids. I couldn't stop smiling as she told me more and more of the details. This feeling felt so normal, so me. It felt like the me before I came to Israel the first time. It felt like the me who knew nothing other than her Conservative synagogue that I had my Bat Mitzvah at nine years ago.
I sit every night and watch my roommate while she watches television shows on her computer. At first I didn't understand how a girl who was raised quite religious and went to religious schools could sit and watch television. That is so not what you're "supposed" to do in this community. I did not understand her Desparate Housewives or The Hills until last night when I realized that we need these things to stay sane. We are Americans (or British or Australian or whatever else) and we need this "normal"ness or we will go crazy and become saturated. We need to stay in tune with ourselves and grow closer to G-d and religion through acquiring knowledge in our classes and life experiences. The rest will come. Life is a growing process, not just Judaism. Though I strongly believe that Judaism should be (and realistically is) intertwined in every part of my life, I need to look beyond it and realize that I'm still me, needing the swimming pool and television just as I did when I was 16.
I woke up this morning entirely not in the mood to go to school so I slept through my alarm, with all five snoozes included. Soon after the fifth, I got a phone call that my interview for YU was actually scheduled for today and the woman and myself had both made errors saying "See you Tuesday" the last time we spoke. I ended up waking up faster than expected and have been in a daze for the last two hours.
I think I'm just being moody. I spoke with Rabbi Shurin for a while yesterday about all of the things bothering me and I felt comforted afterward. Not exactly better, but comforted. I felt secure with my feelings but still upset that I'm feeling so saturated with everything going on.
Today I get to see where my life takes me. I'm curious if that place will be Israel or New York - or some interesting combination of both. I don't know which I prefer and I know that today is definitely not my most Zionistic day being here. I am praying that my lack of enthusiasm does not show through my big smile and pretty outfit.
I felt secure with my decisions last week and insecure with with them now. These are big decisions. I'm a real adult, with a draining bank account, with big decisions on the line. I apparently have not "found myself" yet as a Jewish woman, though Rabbi Shurin attempted to convince me otherwise.
When you become religious in America, you're given one option: Move forward. It's a black and white game and you're on one side of the spectrum no matter how you look at it. The last two months have been a whirlwind for me because I have been exposed to so many different types of Jews. I was with close friends in Boston, New York, and London. And of course, close friends in Israel. I was surrounded by tons of "Modern Orthodox" and "Traditional" Jews... and something (well, many things) about this lifestyle greatly appealed to me. I like how these are categories, but within these categories, there is so much flexibility and what appears to be a lesser degree of judgement. I see judgement continually while living in a true "frum" environment and it is absolutely sickening me. I can't handle being around it and I don't want to be a part of it. I mentioned to Rabbi Shurin that it almost reminds me to extreme Islam and how they abuse the words in their holy scriptures. I've been experiencing the same thing in my own religion and I can't bear to be around it right now. I know it's important to not judge Judaism but the Jew, but sometimes, it's just too hard to do otherwise.
I was speaking with a girl in school the other day about the time table for a swimming pool at a local hotel and as we were talking, I could feel myself becoming more and more excited. Images of my memories lifeguarding at the YMCA in Boston and the PAC-10 pool in Arizona were flying through my mind. Splashing with friends, swimming laps, teaching lessons to little kids. I couldn't stop smiling as she told me more and more of the details. This feeling felt so normal, so me. It felt like the me before I came to Israel the first time. It felt like the me who knew nothing other than her Conservative synagogue that I had my Bat Mitzvah at nine years ago.
I sit every night and watch my roommate while she watches television shows on her computer. At first I didn't understand how a girl who was raised quite religious and went to religious schools could sit and watch television. That is so not what you're "supposed" to do in this community. I did not understand her Desparate Housewives or The Hills until last night when I realized that we need these things to stay sane. We are Americans (or British or Australian or whatever else) and we need this "normal"ness or we will go crazy and become saturated. We need to stay in tune with ourselves and grow closer to G-d and religion through acquiring knowledge in our classes and life experiences. The rest will come. Life is a growing process, not just Judaism. Though I strongly believe that Judaism should be (and realistically is) intertwined in every part of my life, I need to look beyond it and realize that I'm still me, needing the swimming pool and television just as I did when I was 16.
Wednesday, March 11
11/10
Tonight on the bus ride home from Neve Yaakov, Caroline asked me how I would rank this year's Purim and I responded "11 out of 10". It was truly a phenomenal experience with great friends, close teachers, and the comfort and excitement of Jerusalem surrounding me.
Today we exchanged presents in the morning around the MRC apartments. Kate made me a gorgeous watercolor painting and I put it up on my window. We ate lots (... and lots) of hamantashens that we made the other day in the Gush with our teacher Osnat and we sang and danced around the apartment. I stopped by the Mannings to wish them a happy Purim and give the kids presents and then about 15 of us met up at the Central Bus Station to head out to Rabbi Shurin's in Neve Yaakov for his seudah (meal).
Rabbi Shurin's family is mindblowing to me. As an only child, simply having a roommate is a culture shock. The Shurin's have ten children and it's incredible. We met a lot of them today and celebrated with them at the extra long table. We ate delicious food, sang, listened to stories, drank wine, and laughed ... we laughed a lot! People told so many jokes. My favorite was: What happens when you squeeze a shul (synagogue)? You get Jews!
There were quite a few moments when I looked around me on all sides and realized how happy I was to be surrounded by such special people. My roommate was across from me, my other friends to my left and right, and my Rabbi sitting at the head of the table. When we got off the bus, I also saw Joe from Arizona. Now that was a small world, "only in Israel", moment. I don't typically like big social situations but this was definitely an exception.
I just got home and I realized that my bright mood has dimmed a bit after reading the news. There are so many rockets being fired at Southern Israel and it is sickening. I don't understand. I can honestly say that. It boggles my mind how someone could shoot a rocket at someone else, how someone could kidnap someone else, or how someone could blow something up like a bus. I can't comprehend this. Today was a very special day for the Jewish people because Purim is a time to celebrate miracles and all of the amazing feats the Jews have accomplished throughout the years - most importantly, those rooted in getting rid of evil people from the world. It is such a shame that these people exist. There are two sides to every story and it is astonishing to me how so few people in the world are so blind to the reality of the situation here in Israel. These rockets are not a joke. They are not toys that we play with or stories simply being told. They are big projectiles being shot at people's homes, schools, synagogues, and streets. They are hitting people. They are destroying properties. They are emotionally harming people forever.
If someone shot a rocket at Boston or at Tempe, President Obama would not stand for it. The American people would not stand for it. There is absolutely nothing that justifies what is going on and I cannot even begin to comprehend how nations in the world feel it is necessary to donate money to rebuild Gaza... when Gaza is shooting rockets at a civil country. It is disgusting and really sets us back in terms of the celebrations across this country.
Today we exchanged presents in the morning around the MRC apartments. Kate made me a gorgeous watercolor painting and I put it up on my window. We ate lots (... and lots) of hamantashens that we made the other day in the Gush with our teacher Osnat and we sang and danced around the apartment. I stopped by the Mannings to wish them a happy Purim and give the kids presents and then about 15 of us met up at the Central Bus Station to head out to Rabbi Shurin's in Neve Yaakov for his seudah (meal).
Rabbi Shurin's family is mindblowing to me. As an only child, simply having a roommate is a culture shock. The Shurin's have ten children and it's incredible. We met a lot of them today and celebrated with them at the extra long table. We ate delicious food, sang, listened to stories, drank wine, and laughed ... we laughed a lot! People told so many jokes. My favorite was: What happens when you squeeze a shul (synagogue)? You get Jews!
There were quite a few moments when I looked around me on all sides and realized how happy I was to be surrounded by such special people. My roommate was across from me, my other friends to my left and right, and my Rabbi sitting at the head of the table. When we got off the bus, I also saw Joe from Arizona. Now that was a small world, "only in Israel", moment. I don't typically like big social situations but this was definitely an exception.
I just got home and I realized that my bright mood has dimmed a bit after reading the news. There are so many rockets being fired at Southern Israel and it is sickening. I don't understand. I can honestly say that. It boggles my mind how someone could shoot a rocket at someone else, how someone could kidnap someone else, or how someone could blow something up like a bus. I can't comprehend this. Today was a very special day for the Jewish people because Purim is a time to celebrate miracles and all of the amazing feats the Jews have accomplished throughout the years - most importantly, those rooted in getting rid of evil people from the world. It is such a shame that these people exist. There are two sides to every story and it is astonishing to me how so few people in the world are so blind to the reality of the situation here in Israel. These rockets are not a joke. They are not toys that we play with or stories simply being told. They are big projectiles being shot at people's homes, schools, synagogues, and streets. They are hitting people. They are destroying properties. They are emotionally harming people forever.
If someone shot a rocket at Boston or at Tempe, President Obama would not stand for it. The American people would not stand for it. There is absolutely nothing that justifies what is going on and I cannot even begin to comprehend how nations in the world feel it is necessary to donate money to rebuild Gaza... when Gaza is shooting rockets at a civil country. It is disgusting and really sets us back in terms of the celebrations across this country.
Tuesday, March 10
Chag Sameach!
I'm learning more and more about what it means to be Jewish as each moment passes during my time in Israel. Today was no exception. It's 2:45 am and I just got in from a fabulous night with my amazing friends from school.
I can briefly list the things I did today, beginning with spending the entire 'day' getting to and from IKEA in Netanya (we left at 10 and got back at 7) with Sabrina. We had so much fun though! Despite taking so many buses, getting lost a few times, missing out on our trip to Tel Aviv, and everything taking about 5x longer than expected, we ended up getting to IKEA in one piece and getting exactly what we wanted. I just peaked in and Sabrina is sleeping happily with her new pillow (a real pillow, not an 'Israeli pillow') and my happy lamp is bright and shining in my room. I feel SO at home right now. I don't even want to think about anywhere else I have ever lived - this is home and will always be home. Thankfully, IKEA has come to my home.
When we were at the store, the employees erupted in Purim songs and were playing intruments and singing all around the store. I took some great videos of the action. It was like one big party. And totally an "Only in Israel" moment!
After, I ate hamantashens and heard the megilla for the first time. Yes, the first time. I feel like 95% of the things I say, do, hear, and experience in Israel are really brand new to me. I wasn't raised religious or exposed to most of this stuff. I learned a little about Purim as a kid in Sunday school but that's it. Sabrina had to give me a brief synopsis before we got the shul tonight. I was so excited to go to a new shul too. This one was on Brand, a few doors down from us. It's where Rabbi Manning and Rabbi Sedley daven. Luckily, we saw the Sedley's and I felt at home versus like a visitor at a random shul. Rabbi Sedley even found me an English translation of the megilla (a rarity in Har Nof). We made noises every time we heard Haman's name and listened attentively to every word.
Then, Sabrina and I put on our costumes: matching black mice with little black ears that we picked up for 7 shek. The perfect, cheap costume. We took the bus to the shuk and walked through Nachlaot to our friend Leia's house party. The walk was so much fun - we saw people of all ages dancing through the streets. People were singing and drinking everywhere! We became friendly with a guy from Toronto while walking there and we ended up helping each other navigate the way. Finally we got to Leia's and it was filled with our friends from school and from Shearim, another school in Har Nof that my friends go to as well. It was so fun dancing and celebrating the holiday. It's amazing to dance and drink but listen to girls give dvar Torah's (speeches) and give each other blessings deep from their hearts while partying like crazy. It shows that religious girls truly know how to have a good time - and it's sincere as well. It's so important for me to be exposed to people like this and these kind of situations. This is a huge reason why I love my school: girls come from all backgrounds and form this cohesive unit that truly shines.
After, a bunch of us walked to the Old City, through the Old City, to the Kotel, and most importantly - into the deep walls of the arches beneath the Kotel. It was beyond amazing. Words cannot even begin to describe this experience. We davened (prayed) for a long time amidst the deep Earth. We were surrounded by stone and all we could smell was the mustiness of the depth around us. It was a really fascinating experience. It was also quite funny because we were dressed up as a mouse, a leopard, and a bee... and we were praying at the Kotel. Only on Purim!
Then we attempted to get home (for quite a while) and realized (not for the first time) that taking a taxi from the Kotel is no easy feat. We really wanted to squeeze 5 of us into one taxi and finally one let us. It was hilarious. We blasted music the entire way home and pretended like our tiny taxi was a club.
I'm finally home and cannot stop smiling. I don't want to go to sleep despite it being 3 am because I am so happy. I've never celebrated Purim (halachically) before. I've never done a lot of these things before; but thankfully, I know that I never want to live my life any other way.
I can briefly list the things I did today, beginning with spending the entire 'day' getting to and from IKEA in Netanya (we left at 10 and got back at 7) with Sabrina. We had so much fun though! Despite taking so many buses, getting lost a few times, missing out on our trip to Tel Aviv, and everything taking about 5x longer than expected, we ended up getting to IKEA in one piece and getting exactly what we wanted. I just peaked in and Sabrina is sleeping happily with her new pillow (a real pillow, not an 'Israeli pillow') and my happy lamp is bright and shining in my room. I feel SO at home right now. I don't even want to think about anywhere else I have ever lived - this is home and will always be home. Thankfully, IKEA has come to my home.
When we were at the store, the employees erupted in Purim songs and were playing intruments and singing all around the store. I took some great videos of the action. It was like one big party. And totally an "Only in Israel" moment!
After, I ate hamantashens and heard the megilla for the first time. Yes, the first time. I feel like 95% of the things I say, do, hear, and experience in Israel are really brand new to me. I wasn't raised religious or exposed to most of this stuff. I learned a little about Purim as a kid in Sunday school but that's it. Sabrina had to give me a brief synopsis before we got the shul tonight. I was so excited to go to a new shul too. This one was on Brand, a few doors down from us. It's where Rabbi Manning and Rabbi Sedley daven. Luckily, we saw the Sedley's and I felt at home versus like a visitor at a random shul. Rabbi Sedley even found me an English translation of the megilla (a rarity in Har Nof). We made noises every time we heard Haman's name and listened attentively to every word.
Then, Sabrina and I put on our costumes: matching black mice with little black ears that we picked up for 7 shek. The perfect, cheap costume. We took the bus to the shuk and walked through Nachlaot to our friend Leia's house party. The walk was so much fun - we saw people of all ages dancing through the streets. People were singing and drinking everywhere! We became friendly with a guy from Toronto while walking there and we ended up helping each other navigate the way. Finally we got to Leia's and it was filled with our friends from school and from Shearim, another school in Har Nof that my friends go to as well. It was so fun dancing and celebrating the holiday. It's amazing to dance and drink but listen to girls give dvar Torah's (speeches) and give each other blessings deep from their hearts while partying like crazy. It shows that religious girls truly know how to have a good time - and it's sincere as well. It's so important for me to be exposed to people like this and these kind of situations. This is a huge reason why I love my school: girls come from all backgrounds and form this cohesive unit that truly shines.
After, a bunch of us walked to the Old City, through the Old City, to the Kotel, and most importantly - into the deep walls of the arches beneath the Kotel. It was beyond amazing. Words cannot even begin to describe this experience. We davened (prayed) for a long time amidst the deep Earth. We were surrounded by stone and all we could smell was the mustiness of the depth around us. It was a really fascinating experience. It was also quite funny because we were dressed up as a mouse, a leopard, and a bee... and we were praying at the Kotel. Only on Purim!
Then we attempted to get home (for quite a while) and realized (not for the first time) that taking a taxi from the Kotel is no easy feat. We really wanted to squeeze 5 of us into one taxi and finally one let us. It was hilarious. We blasted music the entire way home and pretended like our tiny taxi was a club.
I'm finally home and cannot stop smiling. I don't want to go to sleep despite it being 3 am because I am so happy. I've never celebrated Purim (halachically) before. I've never done a lot of these things before; but thankfully, I know that I never want to live my life any other way.
Saturday, March 7
My Mirpesset
I spent a large portion of my shabbat day out on my mirpesset (porch, in Hebrew). It was a beautiful day in Jerusalem; the sun was shining, warmth filled the air, and the smell of spring was all around us. Our view is incredible - from our mirpesset, you can see the Jerusalem Forest and all of the suburbs surrounding Jerusalem from the West. Har Nof is on the very edge of the city and you can almost see Tel Aviv from it. I bet you could if you had binoculars on a clear day.Shabbat was so relaxing. I slept a lot. I had amazing meals at both the Mannings and the Sedleys. It was my first Shabbat to ever spend in my own bed and I loved it. It was strange without my
roommate here but my friend Nina came and we had all of our meals together. I loved not having to pack an overnight bag. I also loved waking up in the morning and seeing an entire closet full of clothing to choose from versus whatever I had quickly packed into an overnight bag the day before. Shul is across the street so while the Rabbi was speaking (in Hebrew, so not entirely worth listening to) I walked home, got my sunglasses, and walked back. It's amazing to be able to do that.Between the Sedley's at lunch and the other MRC apartment for 3rd meal, I sat on the mirpesset and ended up falling asleep. I was just staring outward at the beautiful view before me, thinking over and over again how much I want to call Israel home. Not just 'home to the Jewish people' but home to me. I want to live here so badly. I want to experience this feeling e
very 7th day - and not in the way it is experienced in the US. I want to experience it in full - I want to walk down the streets of the neighborhoods and not worry that a car will drive through. Imagine that: a busy neighborhood where three year olds are running around in the middle of the road and playing games with friends (often without even being supervised by parents) 
without the fear of cars hitting them or dangerous strangers. Last night, it was interesting to hear Sarah Manning talk about how in Israel you train your kids to talk to strangers versus avoid them. It sounds so silly, but it's so smart. If they ever need anything, a stranger can and most often will help them. I've never experienced this anywhere else. And, I'm not only referring to your home neighborhood - it's like this almost everywhere in Jerusalem.
very 7th day - and not in the way it is experienced in the US. I want to experience it in full - I want to walk down the streets of the neighborhoods and not worry that a car will drive through. Imagine that: a busy neighborhood where three year olds are running around in the middle of the road and playing games with friends (often without even being supervised by parents) 
without the fear of cars hitting them or dangerous strangers. Last night, it was interesting to hear Sarah Manning talk about how in Israel you train your kids to talk to strangers versus avoid them. It sounds so silly, but it's so smart. If they ever need anything, a stranger can and most often will help them. I've never experienced this anywhere else. And, I'm not only referring to your home neighborhood - it's like this almost everywhere in Jerusalem.Third meal was so nice tonight - it really took over what I had been lacking for over a year of being religious. I spent it with a lot of the girls from school at another apartment. We all either made or brought food and ate, sang songs, laughed, danced around, played games, and relaxed together. It was incredible to be around such a great group of people who are 'on the same page'
as I am. As amazing as the Jewish community in Arizona is, I always found it so challenging to get ready for Shabbos alone or to be sitting at a table on a Friday night next to my closest friends who were all discussing what party to go to after the meal finished.
At the same time, I miss Arizona. I wish everyone I loved was right here, experiencing Israel in the same way I am.I hope that can happen soon :)
*Pictures, from top to bottom: My mirpesset at sundown, my side of my bedroom, Idan Reichel at the Idan Reichel Project concert, a Jerusalem sign, the view from my mirpesset down Chai Taib toward Jerusalem, and lastly, the Kotel in the Old City at night.
Friday, March 6
Friday: Some pre-shabbos thoughts
Friday's in Israel are by far my favorite day of the week. Unlike everywhere else in the world, Friday means it is officially the weekend. I haven't written much lately because I am trying to distance myself from 1. America and 2. the internet. I'm not doing a very good job at either but I really am trying to at least acknowledge when I am giving more attention to things that are not 'real' or 'in the moment' than to the important people, places, culture, life, and history that is right before my eyes. Too much of my first week in Israel was spent on my computer but I know that spending my time like that was what I needed. Now, I don't think I need that anymore.
My classes have been going really well. I'm starting to catch onto Hebrew but I get very embarrassed and still won't ever use it. In life, you're either a leader or a follower. In every situation you find yourself in, you have to quickly decide, "Will I step forward or will I let someone else take the lead", and in terms of speaking Hebrew, I always step backward. I'm not sure if this is a problem because at the same time, I have learned that patience and letting others teach you (instead of being a know-it-all or guessing) is often the best choice in difficult situations. Maybe for now it is the best idea. I hope that soon I am able to take the reigns though because I know deep down that I can do it.
Graduate school options have been irking me lately. I've spoken with a lot of people who I consider very trustworthy and whose opinions I truly value. These conversations have been helpful and have provided me with the guidance I need to proceed forward in the decision making process. Currently, I would like to stay in Israel. Ideally, I want to do the Block program at Yeshiva University, which means I would spend the summers in New York City and the school year in Israel.
I find myself growing more and more intimately attached to Israel as my time here progresses. Arizona is a very easy place to live. Boston is a very comfortable place to live. New York City is exciting... and practically every other major city in the world in has treated me well. I adored Paris and London and could even imagine spending part of my life in Athens. But Israel is different. It's not just the Jewish element. Or the Zionistic element. It's not the food. Or the people. Or the history. It's everything combined. Israel is a place where I feel closer to the neighbors in my apartment building who I have never met than I do to the neighbors in my condo complex in Arizona who I saw daily. It is a place where bombs and rockets are falling a couple hundred miles away and I feel safer than I do in my house in Boston. Israel is a place where I have things in common with almost every single person here. It is a placed overflowing with history and culture; a place where you could not be bored if you tried. I could never list why I love Israel in one blog entry, or even in twenty. It's not a matter of liking or loving it either. It's a matter of just intrinsically knowing that the feeling I have about this country, including the land and the people living here, is more real than any other feeling I have ever experienced toward a place.
But yes, I am living a "life of hardships" as my Dad repetitively told me I would be doing if I decided to come here. I gave an interesting dvar Torah on this topic in Arizona and in the Heights before I came. After learning more about the Exodus from Egypt to Canaan (the land of Israel), I began to think more about the situation from a bird's eye view. So we have one land, Egypt, where everything is abundant. It is the most fertile area around because of the Nile and all of us know that fertile land = the ideal place to live.
So why on Earth would God tell us to leave Egypt? More importantly, why would we listen?! We had it all. Without getting into specifics (and of course there were hardships), it just made no sense to me why God picked Israel. If you look at Israel from a topographic (I think that's the right word) standpoint, you see a desert. More specifically, Israel is really small (about the size of New Jersey). You see a small river running through it, a sea on one side, and a very small lake at the top. Other than that, it's primarily desert, uninhabited by most people, animals, and plants. Things cannot grow in the desert! So, why here?
Dad, you could not have said it better. Israel is a land of hardships. It's true. But, is the word "hardship" as negative as we make it out to be? I can give a few examples to explain why I strongly think the opposite.
1. This past summer, I was here during the Shmita year. This means that crops were left to rest and Israel was basically at a shortage of all fruits and vegetables. I remember going to the grocery store at the end of the summer looking for strawberries and I heard someone say, "There are no more strawberries left in Israel". What on Earth?! How do you run out of strawberries?! Well, during the Shmita year, you sure do.
2. On top of every building in Israel is a dud shemesh. It's a big tank that controls the heat and hot water system. Before showering or using any form of heat, you must turn it on. And immediately afterwards, turn it off. This sounds like the most tedious activity ever... and I honestly cannot argue otherwise.
3., 4., 5., 6., and so on. We recycle, we use public transportation, many don't use paper towels, heat is only used for a couple hours a day at maximum, our water is vital so we take short showers and never let the faucet run, etc.
Israelis care a lot about where they are living. They work hard for the minimal resources they have. Kibbutzim exist all over the country, where people are working for their food, energy, and sustenance. Things are not easy here at all and despite minimally complaining, that's okay. It's okay for things to be hard. Everything doesn't need to be as quick and instant as Americans believe. Sometimes it's cold when you get out of the shower. Sometimes you can't find your favorite fruit at the grocery store. Sometimes the bus comes at 9:15 instead of 8:55 and you're late for school.
That's what work is though. This is a nation continuing it's relationship with the land it lives on and has lived on forever. Just because we have computers and cell phones, high power stoves and heating systems, and plastic water bottles galore, we don't need to abuse them. We need to continue developing a relationship with this special place because when you work hard for something, even if it is so hard it becomes a true "hardship", the results become far greater than you could ever previously imagined.
My classes have been going really well. I'm starting to catch onto Hebrew but I get very embarrassed and still won't ever use it. In life, you're either a leader or a follower. In every situation you find yourself in, you have to quickly decide, "Will I step forward or will I let someone else take the lead", and in terms of speaking Hebrew, I always step backward. I'm not sure if this is a problem because at the same time, I have learned that patience and letting others teach you (instead of being a know-it-all or guessing) is often the best choice in difficult situations. Maybe for now it is the best idea. I hope that soon I am able to take the reigns though because I know deep down that I can do it.
Graduate school options have been irking me lately. I've spoken with a lot of people who I consider very trustworthy and whose opinions I truly value. These conversations have been helpful and have provided me with the guidance I need to proceed forward in the decision making process. Currently, I would like to stay in Israel. Ideally, I want to do the Block program at Yeshiva University, which means I would spend the summers in New York City and the school year in Israel.
I find myself growing more and more intimately attached to Israel as my time here progresses. Arizona is a very easy place to live. Boston is a very comfortable place to live. New York City is exciting... and practically every other major city in the world in has treated me well. I adored Paris and London and could even imagine spending part of my life in Athens. But Israel is different. It's not just the Jewish element. Or the Zionistic element. It's not the food. Or the people. Or the history. It's everything combined. Israel is a place where I feel closer to the neighbors in my apartment building who I have never met than I do to the neighbors in my condo complex in Arizona who I saw daily. It is a place where bombs and rockets are falling a couple hundred miles away and I feel safer than I do in my house in Boston. Israel is a place where I have things in common with almost every single person here. It is a placed overflowing with history and culture; a place where you could not be bored if you tried. I could never list why I love Israel in one blog entry, or even in twenty. It's not a matter of liking or loving it either. It's a matter of just intrinsically knowing that the feeling I have about this country, including the land and the people living here, is more real than any other feeling I have ever experienced toward a place.
But yes, I am living a "life of hardships" as my Dad repetitively told me I would be doing if I decided to come here. I gave an interesting dvar Torah on this topic in Arizona and in the Heights before I came. After learning more about the Exodus from Egypt to Canaan (the land of Israel), I began to think more about the situation from a bird's eye view. So we have one land, Egypt, where everything is abundant. It is the most fertile area around because of the Nile and all of us know that fertile land = the ideal place to live.
So why on Earth would God tell us to leave Egypt? More importantly, why would we listen?! We had it all. Without getting into specifics (and of course there were hardships), it just made no sense to me why God picked Israel. If you look at Israel from a topographic (I think that's the right word) standpoint, you see a desert. More specifically, Israel is really small (about the size of New Jersey). You see a small river running through it, a sea on one side, and a very small lake at the top. Other than that, it's primarily desert, uninhabited by most people, animals, and plants. Things cannot grow in the desert! So, why here?
Dad, you could not have said it better. Israel is a land of hardships. It's true. But, is the word "hardship" as negative as we make it out to be? I can give a few examples to explain why I strongly think the opposite.
1. This past summer, I was here during the Shmita year. This means that crops were left to rest and Israel was basically at a shortage of all fruits and vegetables. I remember going to the grocery store at the end of the summer looking for strawberries and I heard someone say, "There are no more strawberries left in Israel". What on Earth?! How do you run out of strawberries?! Well, during the Shmita year, you sure do.
2. On top of every building in Israel is a dud shemesh. It's a big tank that controls the heat and hot water system. Before showering or using any form of heat, you must turn it on. And immediately afterwards, turn it off. This sounds like the most tedious activity ever... and I honestly cannot argue otherwise.
3., 4., 5., 6., and so on. We recycle, we use public transportation, many don't use paper towels, heat is only used for a couple hours a day at maximum, our water is vital so we take short showers and never let the faucet run, etc.
Israelis care a lot about where they are living. They work hard for the minimal resources they have. Kibbutzim exist all over the country, where people are working for their food, energy, and sustenance. Things are not easy here at all and despite minimally complaining, that's okay. It's okay for things to be hard. Everything doesn't need to be as quick and instant as Americans believe. Sometimes it's cold when you get out of the shower. Sometimes you can't find your favorite fruit at the grocery store. Sometimes the bus comes at 9:15 instead of 8:55 and you're late for school.
That's what work is though. This is a nation continuing it's relationship with the land it lives on and has lived on forever. Just because we have computers and cell phones, high power stoves and heating systems, and plastic water bottles galore, we don't need to abuse them. We need to continue developing a relationship with this special place because when you work hard for something, even if it is so hard it becomes a true "hardship", the results become far greater than you could ever previously imagined.
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