grandma

I remember flying for the first time on my own to Florida as a little kid. My mom and dad were so worried about me but I had no fears at all. It was exciting. I don't remember the details but I know that I was so excited when I felt that first brush of air on my face as I stepped from the airplane onto the jetway. It was warm and the sun was shining through the cracks around the entrance to the airport.

My Uncle George was waiting there and after we picked up my luggage, he drove me to my grandmother's apartment in West Palm Beach. She lived in a building that was filled with other grandmas and grandpas. I remember her dining room table, probably since we still have it now. And, I remember her Swedish meatballs. They were really sweet and she served them in a giant pot. I remember her swimming pool and that her laundry machine was in her kitchen. There were mirrors in her dining room and once we sat in her bed together reading the newspaper.

And that's really all I remember.

A week ago my great Aunt died and my dad sent me the obituary. He also sent me my grandmother's from 2004. Reading her short biography brought tears to my eyes. I barely knew her for reasons that I will never truly accept or understand. I visited FL a couple times when I was very little but that was basically it. She lived far away, it was too expensive to visit, it was more important for other people to go instead of me - the list was endless. I never really accepted these excuses back then either. After screaming, crying, and protesting to go, the fights would eventually calm down and I would, once again, not be on a plane visiting West Palm Beach.

I wish I knew my grandmother. I wear her pearl necklace a lot and I feel beautiful in it. I think I can learn a lot from my relationship, or lack thereof, with my grandmother. I can learn a lot about family, both the one I come from and the one I will soon begin (b"H). I read about her accomplishments and I see clearly the person who I want to strive toward becoming. I want to be a leader, one of both my family and my community, and be the helper when help is needed.

Below is the obituary from 2004.


SOPHIE B. LIPSITT, 92

WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. -- Sophie B. Lipsitt, 92, of Arden Courts Assisted Living Residence, formerly of New Bedford, Mass., died Saturday, Oct. 23, 2004, at home. She was the widow of David J. Lipsitt.
Born in New York City, she was the daughter of the late Sidney and Rebecca (Eisenstadt) Bogorad. She lived in New Bedford since early childhood; she resided in Florida since 1973.
Mrs. Lipsitt was a longtime member of Tifereth Israel Congregation, where she was president of its Sisterhood and Hadassah. She was a member of B'nai B'rith.
For many years, she helped the blind by typing manuscripts into Braille in English and Hebrew. With a lifelong commitment to volunteerism, she was a nurse's aide during World War II, a docent at the Flagler Museum and a helper at Morse Geriatric Center in Florida. She gave freely of her time and talent to a variety of charities.
Survivors include two sons, Marc Lipsitt of West Conshohocken, Pa., and Jeff Lipsitt of Boston; three grandchildren; a stepgrandchild; and a sister, Evelyn Sacknoff of Fall River, Mass.
She was the sister of the late Samuel N. Bogorad.
Her funeral will be at 1 p.m. tomorrow at Tifereth Israel Congregation, 145 Brownell Ave., New Bedford. Burial will follow at Plainville Cemetery, New Bedford.

summer termination

How do I even begin to reflect on the most influential summer of my life? I want to write a million words to explain how I feel about my departure from my first "year" in graduate school but I don't have the slightest idea how I could even begin to formulate what I want to express.

Today we terminated our program in a healthy way, sharing our feelings about each other, social work, our teachers, and ourselves. We talked about what we learned and how we learned it. We shared deep stories. We laughed a lot. And we cried a lot. We played basketball, ate homemade food and ice cream, and wrote each other notes. We sat in a circle. We stood in a circle. We communicated one-on-one.

Looking around the room today at the people who I began this program with just under two months ago makes me realize the importance of relationships, understanding, accepting, and learning from differences, and the true value of experiential education. We have changed so much both individually and as a group and I know that without the people in my program, I would never have grown and learned as much as I did.

Words cannot begin to express how meaningful this summer was for me at YU but I am so thankful for every moment I had.

Kisses

So, they are everywhere. It's inevitable. Everyone's doing it. And if they aren't doing it, they are planning to do it, really soon. I'm perplexed by New York more and more each day that I live here. But something that is impossible to ignore is the amount of men and women who line the busy streets completely smitten for one another.

Then there's the religious folk. I think religious people have a lot more up their sleeves than you would think. They just hide it better, that's all. I don't mean this in a critical or cynical way, just in an honest, "I know you're saying and doing exactly what I'm doing, except behind closed doors", kind of way. It's interesting the way religious Judaism manifests itself in American society. I've been thinking about this for a while since I've been back in America. I'm seeing religious Judaism from a very new light, one that I have never experienced before. I grew up secular in Boston, became religious in Arizona, and then studied in Israel. These places are all so different in terms of religion. New York is on an entirely different wavelength, one that I have yet to figure out.

School's done in one day. In many ways it feels like this "one day" is much longer than it is since I still have one more paper to complete. I think this summer was one of the best learning experiences I've ever had. I grew so much through this program and when I say 'this program' I mean through my professors, my peers, and my readings. I can't believe how phenomenal some of my professors at YU are. Seriously, one of my teachers was the best teacher I have ever had and this is something like my 18th year in school. I learned the most from simply being in her presence, as cheesy as that sounds. The readings were great too. I think you can learn everything you would ever need to know to be a social worker from them. I mean, aside for hands-on experience, but that comes with time. I couldn't believe the breadth and depth of some of our textbooks. I sincerely enjoyed the topics in them. And the people in the program, can't forget them. I really love them. I was looking at our class picture by the GW bridge earlier today and I realized that for the first time in my life, I was staring at a picture worth thousands of words. I know so much about each and every person in this picture that it feels as if we are a family. What's ironic about that is that all of us have only known each other for six weeks. I love how much I've grown through each person I've shared class time and social time with and I know that I'll cherish these relationships forever.

Back to the kissing, or lack thereof at 590 Fort Washington. I miss having intimate friendships and I don't mean that in a sexual way. I mean it in a sincere way. I have more friends than I can count on my fingers and toes but NYC is still a lonely place. I want a solid, core group of friends. I'm so curious when this will occur. I'm curious how it will occur, where these mysterious people will come from, and what they will be like. I'm most curious about where to find them. Like finding the person you'll marry, I'm sure it will happen where I least expect it. But how does one go about solving the problem of lonliness when the solution is such a mystery?

School's out and that means I can begin experiencing New York. I don't know where to begin. The UWS confuses, intrigues, excites, and sickens me - all at once. Does that make any sense? I was there tonight on a date with my friend Rachel and I experienced that entire mix of emotions - and more - throughout the evening. We ate great food and talked for hours at a beautiful Asian restaurant. We people watched (and saw couple after couple after couple...of course) and strolled the streets of the West Side. I took the train home feeling almost fulfilled. Something was missing though. And I'm not sure what it was.

new york update

So, I don't know how this all came to be.

But it did. I somehow have snagged myself a great job (well, two if you count being a research assistant), great apartment, and great friends. I am en route to getting a great internship and passing my first "year" of graduate school with high grades. I'm sincerely happy and sincerely confused about how this all came to be. I'm not questioning anything but questioning everything at the same time.

New York City is so much fun. It's confusing, exhilarating, fun, exciting, lonely, surprising, and beautiful all at the same time. It's a place that is very much based on perspective: If you're positive, you're life will be positive. If you're negative, well... you're life will be negative. It's all about how you see things and it's quite difficult to stay positive with a smile on your face all the time. But when I succeed at doing this, I succeed at everything I set my mind to. From this, I've learned that in New York, anything is possible.

I am growing as an up-and-coming social worker in so many ways. I can feel myself coming closer to the career I want to find myself settling into. Now, from the girl who pays attention about 10% of the time (if that) in class, writes papers the night before they are due, and frolics around the city with anyone and everyone until dawn (often on weeknights), this is quite the feat. But I'm learning and growing and developing at a rapid rate. My friends see it happening in me. I'm getting along with my family (both sides) for the first time in my entire life. Yes, in 22 years. And I'm financially independent and proud of it.

Of course there are things and people I miss. But, like in Israel, they tend to keep coming to me. I love it. I'm looking for apartments for the fall and I'm contemplating sharing a room... but I think that I can't do that because I love having visitors. So far, four days have not passed since a close friend or family member has visited or stayed over with me. It's amazing. I love this feeling and I never want it to end. More importantly, I love living in New York and I never want that to end.

hmph.

i'm sitting here right now, listening to ashlee simpson, wondering how this day had as many ups and downs as it did. such is life. i had a nice dinner tonight with friends down the street, actually made a new friend, and felt a little more comfortable in new york. i think this is a day-by-day thing. soon, i'll be very comfortable but it's going to take time. and i need to learn to be patient.

i honestly haven't read much for school so far. i also have barely paid attention to anything in any class. i don't think i'm learning very much. i'm reading tonight and catching up but i still don't feel like i'm learning very much new information. i don't know what this means either. school has always bored me though so this isn't new. i remember how convinced i was that i had a.d.d. in high school and my psychologist continually reiterated to me that i was just bored in class and had no real symptoms of a.d.d. i'm not so sure i agree though. my brain is all over the place, all day, every day. i can't sit still for more than five minutes and i can't stay on topic regarding anything. once again, i don't know what this means.

i look around and i think to myself that it might be exciting to live a little on the edge. i don't know how to do this but i think i need to investigate a little more within the walls of this city. washington heights may geographically be on the edge of manhattan but it could definitely not be described as a neighborhood inhabited by those doing so. i'm going to shul this weekend for the first time and i'm curious what the experience will be like.

i talked to my best friend today on the phone and i realized that, yet again, we are separated by not only distance, but communication. in one way or another, i'm separated by communication between most of my friends lately. i need to come to terms with this. it just sucks though and there's not other way to describe it.

so, living in new york has made me quite cynical if you haven't been able to tell from this post and others lately. i'm trying. well, not hard enough, but i am trying. after dealing with the awful administration at yu today, i realized that being cynical for about 10 minutes every day is what i must do in order to function here. these people are really capable of driving someone absolutely insane. nothing is easy around here and i feel as if nothing ever gets accomplished. i really cannot believe how far behind the times this school is as well - everything is done on paper instead of the internet. it's 2009. c'mon.

back to reading about cultural diversity and death. and back to convincing myself that this is worth $20,000 in loans.

New York, New York

So here I am, in Manhattan at last.

I always had a hunch that at some point in my life I would wind up here. Well, it happened. Reality still hasn't set in though. While walking to school today, I saw a bunch of people hanging out on their front stoops. It reminded me of Sesame Street. But no, it was just Washington Heights.

I've been here for a little over two weeks now (excluding a five day vacation in Arizona) and I'm surprisingly happy. Much happier than I had expected. I have a beautiful bedroom up on Fort Washington Avenue. I've made it comfy and cozy. It is filled with all of my favorite things, including my comforter from college and my happy lamp. The hardwood floors and high ceiling are stunning and make me so thankful for everything I have around me at all times.

School began last week. I am taking 12 credits, which is five classes (and another which begins in a couple weeks). It's a lot of work but I don't feel stressed at all. The program is filled with people from all backgrounds. People range in age, as my professor said, "From 22 to 80". Well, I'm still 21, so take that. I'm by far the youngest person in the program. Typical though. That's how things always work out for me.

On that note, I'm turning 22 this week. It's been quite the year. I graduated college, studied in Israel twice, traveled to Greece twice, and visited Italy and England. I made hundreds of new friends, gained a strong sense of confidence of where I stand in my Judaism, and began a master's program. I began my twenty-first year in Greece, so drinking wasn't too exciting because there is no 'legal' age enforced. Then I spent half my twenty-first year in Israel, another country where the age doesn't matter. So, I must say that I didn't get my time's worth in the American bar scene. Oh well, I'm sure I drank plenty. I'm thankful for the times I don't remember just as much as I am for those that I do.

I'm alone in my bed tonight, like most nights. Last night was an exception and the thunder and lightning made me thankful for those around me. New York City is a lonely place. I'm sure I'm not the first to make such a statement. This place is filled with twenty-something-million people and I've never felt more alone in my entire life. Sometimes a good hug from someone familiar is what is necessary. Other times, like during my lunch break today, the loneliness prevails and I begin to cry. This has happened a lot lately. Today it just happened to occur on the corner of 186th and Amsterdam, right in front of school. The tears that I have shed are silent and lonely tears. I think that they are filled with sadness rooted in the deep feeling of loss I've experienced since leaving Arizona in December and Israel last month. It hurts to leave those close to you.

So I don't know what is in store for my future. My iCal is empty for the first time in years. I had no plans tonight. I have no plans tomorrow night. I might see Sam Thursday night and then Friday night is Shabbat, which I have left the plans up to my friend Luba. Apparently, we are staying local. This is definitely going to be one of those birthdays where the phrase "if you don't expect anything, you can't be disappointed" can be perfectly applied. I guess I'm due for a not-so-exciting birthday since my last birthdays have been spent dancing on bars in Paris (19), bar hopping in Tiveria, Israel with my Aish friends (20), and galavanting through Athens with Laura and my cousins (21). I don't sense that Washington Heights can top those. I hope that doesn't mean I'm getting too old to have a good time.

22 does scare me though. It seems like a crappy year. I probably shouldn't go into a new year with such a negative attitude. I spoke with a friend the other day who is older and said that she wished she could have stayed 22 forever. I think I feel that way about 21. It's crazy to think that a year in my life could be more amazing, exciting, and eventful than the past 360 days have been. But that's the way the world works. Who knows, I could meet the man of my dreams. I could actually learn Hebrew. I could learn to play guitar. I could finally spend a good amount of time (though never enough) with my best friend. These could potentially make the year a runner-up to 21. I still don't know about surpassing it though...

Well, that's about it for the ranting and raving of my last Tuesday as a 21-year-old. Here's to two more days of classes, a day off, Shabbat/my birthday, and Sunday with my parents. Let's go New York City.

presence

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.

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.

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.

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!