A Big Relative Week!

1. GRANDMA'S LANDING TODAY! (I won't see her till Friday)

2. EMILY decided that she was coming to visit, too. So I'll be with her on my mom's birthday and on her birthday :)

3. I called up very distant Klionsky relatives who live in Tzfat, and will be staying with them for this Shabbat. (Which, incidentally, includes also Lag Ba'omer). I've only ever been in Tzfat for three hours. And they have a one-month old baby girl. (In addition to many other children...)

I'm very excited for all three things!

Pesach Break

I wrote about the beginning of break (when I was in Haifa at Yogev and Abby's).

Basically the rest of the break I had "Campus Jerusalem"--bumming from house to house for the rest of the week until the end.

On Saturday night I headed to Shani's in Jerusalem--I got in really late, and had to lug my suitcase (I don't remember if I mentioned that my hiking backpack is messed up from Survival Week and is getting fixed right now) all the way to her house from the bus stop. We hung out for a bit, and then went out and ended up running into a few other folks from the Mechina for a pre-Pesach glass of beer and Belgian waffle. We got back to her apartment late at night, and slept until a good 11 or 12 the next day, before her mom woke us up (Pesach cleaning and all that jazz). When Shani left, I stayed there for a bit before heading back to the city to meet Efrat, the person at whose house I was having the seder.

On my way to meeting Efrat, I heard three women asking each other, in English, "Where's the synagogue? Do you know where the synagogue is?"Naturally, I asked them which synagogue they were talking about, and they answered that they were looking for the Reform one (Kol Hanshama) and/or a seder to go to. I gave them Rabbi Klein-Katz's number, and when I talked to him later that afternoon, he said he'd gotten a call from three ladies from Georgia (the state) looking for a seder to go to :) I waited while Efrat got her hair cut (something that I didn't do this year before Pesach; a regular cut costs upwards of $40!) and we headed to her house in Ramot. Once there, there were final Pesach cleaning and things like that--washing the windows and floors in her room, organizing her closet, etc. We ate lunch, and hung out playing guitar and such, and at night made a run to the felafel stand down the street (with all the other Ramot residents and their 7 children apiece.)

We woke up relatively late in the morning and didn't really do a lot during the day. The seder was a lot different than I expected. She's from a Yemenite family, and is one of 6 or 7 children, so I thought the seder would be huge (everyone's spouse, children, etc.) but this year only 4 of the kids were home for the seder, plus her grandma, so we were only 8. It's the smallest seder I've ever been to. There also was no commentary--everyone took turns reading the paragraphs, but there was no initiative to share commentaries or explanations or ask questions or have discussions or any of the stuff that I'm used to from our seders at home. Having rice as one of the main courses at the seder was also something that I am certainly not used to (yes, this year I ate kitniyot, I couldn't not), as was not having matzah-ball soup or brisket or sponge cake or strawberries-and-sugar... or any of those things that have become institutions of Pesach at our house/at Savta and Grandpa's. Her dad also decided that they were too old to look for the afikomen, so he just produced it (with complaint from Efrat and her younger-by-a-few-years sister) and we ate it and that was the end of that. We place the cup for Eliyahu on the windowsill, but never opened the door for him. (Important note: Efrat lives in Ramot, which is a neighborhood in Jerusalem. I made a point of having the seder in Jerusalem, because every year we say at the end of the seder we say, "Next year in Jerusalem" so I didn't want to give up the chance).

On the actual day of chag I didn't go to shul, we slept in, had lunch with the family, played the not-as-good-as-American Israeli version of Monopoly for a while until we went out for a 4-hour walk with a friend of hers from the neighborhood. One of the greatest things about Israel is that "city" doesn't necessarily mean "far from nature." Right down the mountain from her house is a huge forest--we climbed, found an old abandoned stone house, looked at the rich people's houses, smelled the spices growing along the path, saw families out on long walks, and enjoyed the perfect weather. If I wanted to go on a nature-walk in Chicago, I'd have to drive two hours to some preserve, or pay money to go to the Botanical Gardens or something--in Jerusalem you just somersault down the hill and there you are.

That night I went to the Kochins in Jerusalem--I ended up getting there rather late, and Yael was already getting into bed. The first time I was there Elijah was in the States; this time, he was there but Rosie was in the states. I always get to do some reading when I'm there, because they have nearly as many books out in the the dining room as we do at home. I had matzah-toffee there :) The next day I went with Ariel and Danielle to meet people from the Mechina at the beach in Herzeliyah. At exactly the same time that we got to the connection point in Tel Aviv, I got a call from a friend in camp saying that a bunch of them were meeting up in Tel Aviv in about an hour and a half. Completely imperfect timing! I went to the beach with Mechina people--when we got there there were only about 7 or 8 people there. I had Neti and Itai (camp) pick me up and went to hang out with camp friends for a while (OSRUI 2009: Yonatan Cope came back from his 7-month sailing trip. He had a great time! And is coming back to camp!) before Yonatan dropped me back off at the beach. This time when I got there, there were about 25 or so people from the Mechina, plus 7 or so prostitutes and their pimps (not joking).

We had a great time at the beach. About 35 people came in all. We had a barbecue, two fires, a guitar, and a good time hanging out with each other outside of the setting of the Mechina. Most people left by the early hours of the morning (3, 4), but about 10 of us stayed to "sleep" the night at the beach. It was freezing, so I didn't actually sleep much. Sheera and I left around 7 and went to her house, where we ate (HER DAD MAKES 7-LAYER CHOCOLATE MATZA CAKE!), showered, and sleeeept.

Thursday afternoon I had planned to go to Yonatan's to pick up my suitcase (after Survival Week my hiking backpack was broken, so I was wandering around with a big wheeled-suitcase), but he had gone to the Golan with some friends. I had been to his house before, and his mom is from Chicago, so I called her up and asked if I could come over to get my suitcase, and to bum for a few hours until Rachel's family (I went to Italy with Rachel. Her family came to visit for a few weeks and were staying at an apartment in Jerusalem) came back from the north. I hung out with Yonatan's mom for a few hours, which was actually really nice, and then went to Rachel's.

I was at Rachel's for two days, and on Friday we took a bus to Tel Aviv to go to the beach. Once we got to Tel Aviv, we hopped on a intercity bus, and on the way to the beach passed a flea market. We looked at each other for approximately 4 seconds, said "Galya will be so jealous!" and hopped off the bus. We spent two hours at the flea market (Mom and Dad: I looked for the sponge cake egg fluffer without success) at then found ourselves at the beach for only about 20 minutes. It was definitely worth it though. I bought a necklace that I have to convince myself I can wear, as well as a jug for creamer to add to my teacups-from-different-countries collection.

We made it back to Jerusalem just in time for Shabbat (after taking a Monit Sherut that didn't actually go to the Arlozorov Sation, and he made a detour for us).

Shabbat was very nice; I started reading Shalom Auslander's Foreskin's Lament, which I have to find somewhere so I can finish it.

TO BE CONTINUED!

CONTINUATION:

I don't remember much more about Shabbat... but it was a lot of just hanging out and etc. In the evening we went to family-friend's of Rachel's, who have the coolest/best-decorated apartment I've been in since I've been in Israel. They live in Baka, and the floor is done with this really neat geometrically-designed tile, and there's really cool art on all the walls...

I then took a bus to Josh Bloomberg's apartment, met up with him, walked around and ate Kosher for Passover Ben&Jerry's ice cream (mmm!) In the morning, I learned that the Israel Museum was free during Passover, so after a lot of bus-complications, I got there with only about an hour to spend. Turned out to be good that a)I only had an hour and b) it was free, because a lot of the exhibits and parchments were under preservation so they weren't on display, which was kind of frustrating.

I had a series of obstacle courses getting back to Joshs apartment in order to pick up my suitcase in order to run uphill to the bus station in order to catch the last bus to Zur Hadassah (including bumping into Ayal WK in the street). Long story short, I got on the bus 10 seconds before it was supposed to leave the station.

I stayed at Hadar's house. We took a nice walk and had a chat on a lookout over the mountains, which was really nice. In the evening we went to her Grandma's for dinner--with her aunt and uncle and etc--and it was one of the best meals (and most colorful, literally) since I've been in Israel; like at home, there was something of every color on the table :)

The next day we went to the Stalactite Cave (!) that's near Beit Guvrin and Beit Shemesh. It was SO COOL! We weren't allowed to touch anything, but there were ones that looked like broccolis, and ice cream cones and cliffs and the underside of a mushroom... all sorts of things. It was really one of the coolest things I've ever seen (although too many people).

THEN, at night, we went to Gan Yavneh for Girls' Night at Bar's. And arrived--20 people strong--at the Palmach Museum in Tel Aviv the next day for our first day back at the Mechina.

Two Survival Weeks

(Side note to all the camp people: I'm writing from Abby Bob's computer in Haifa. I just came here from Yogev's house. I also just ran into Shlomi, the waterfront/sailing guy from 2006. He recognized me on a bus.)

As many of you know, three weeks ago the hype was electric with anticipation for Survival Week. The week is one of the most built-up at the Mechina, and graduates are instructed not to tell anything--from where it is, to what it includes, to how it's administered--to the current year. As such, I can't really say a lot here about what's included, because there may be people reading who are coming to the Mechina next year or in a few years.

I will share a few small things:
a) The only thing I heard about Survival Week was a tip from Daniel Gastfriend: "The ultimate rule of Shavua Hesardut, and of life: when things are difficult, help someone else." I had that advice in my mind for all of Survival Week, and can't count the number of times it saved me from yelling at someone or from complaining. Because it was clear that there were people for whom the week was harder, and when you're helping them you're not thinking about how hard it is for you or how much you ache or how much you just want to get to the final stop for the night.
b) Survival Week was a lot different than what I expected, and I'm still digesting the whole thing. There were parts that I liked more (the day when I arrived at 3:15am at the final stop for the night, the last day) and parts that I liked less (never mind, I won't go into details here).
c) 7.5L seems like a lot of water when it's on your back, but when there's a heat wave, it really is a normal amount
d) The memory card that I had with on Survival Week is messed up and will let neither the computer nor my camera read the information stored; I have no pictures from the week.
e) The amount of sweat my body produces--even when it's chilly, and in the middle of the night--is incredible

As soon as we got back to the Mechina, we began preparation for what some of the madrichim called "the REAL survival week": the camp we put on for kids in Kiryat Gat (note to Gideon: we had kids from the Mercaz Klitah, which means that I worked with the same kids you did!). That week I wasn't actually in classes very much, because one of the days I was toranit (cleaning, organizing meals, etc.) and another entire day I spent or driving to a doctor's office (it was closed) or being visited by a doctor at the Mechina, or at the ER at Barzilay Hospital in Ashkelon for my elbow (I fell on asphalt playing touchdown and scraped my elbow, then it got infected and gross. It's doing very well now, after two weeks...)

In any case, the Kaytana (camp) was a lot of fun. I got second graders (I think the best age ever!) and wored with Eitan and Alon. The thing is, we weren't told the ages before hand, and the cos were changed day-of-game, so at the beginning I was with Yisrael and none of the activities we'd built were age-appropriate. However, once I was with Eitan and Alon and we knew what ages we had, e managed. For the first few days we just played tag and soccer when it was up to us to occupy them (there were also activities that were planned for us: a clown, a magician, Field Day, etc.). Then we were supposed to plan a Passover-related activity for them; something with content, which we thought was impossible, because they can't play tag for 45 minutes without getting antsy, let alone sit on their bottoms for 45 minutes. We joined up with two other groups and made a Passover play of the story: Yotam narrated in the background, and we acted in front. Every few minutes we'd have a song-break or a "What do you guys think?" break, and they loved it! And somehow, we were able to do a substance-filled activity with them!
We took them to the Israeli version of KiddyLand, where everyone except the kindergarteners and the first graders were released to drain their energy however they wanted. In any case, I ended up walking around with a few of my kids glued to me, the ones who said "this is boring, this is for little kids" until we came to the pool of balls (like the McDonal's Funhouse) which was probably the coolest thing in the place. I managed to not have my elbow bumped up too much (although kids do like to touch things with bandages on. Ouch!) I enjoyed being there a lot, even though the kids didn't want to be rounded up when we started herding them to the meeting spot.

I had to fight with them to put seatbelts on on the bus. And for the boys to stop throwing the soccer ball on the bus. But I prefer the boys--who threaten to beat each other up--to the girls who say "It's a pity I came, why do we always play boy games?" and then sit out (causing the other girls to trickle slowly to the sides...) Anyway, I had a very nice conversation with a little girl named Shelley on the way to Beit Chalomotai, and the same on the way back with Bar (one of our cutest. He's missing every second tooth, I think). At the end of my conversation with Bar, he said "but why does the kaytana (camp) end tomorrow? I want it to be for all of Passover break!" which is once of those things that makes a counselor's soul smile. I think my proudest moments as a counselor, though, were my heart-to-heart conversations with two seven-year-olds. (Also when they told me they were born in 2002...)

On the last day came some staff from the Madatech (the science museum in Haifa) to do something that's "like magic... but real!" And the kids' eyes were glued to the color-changing, foam-producing, fire-igniting beakers. We hardly had to remind them to be quiet. They were fascinated (much more so than by the "magician" or the "clown"--who just put on music and danced with the kids).

For our last activity with the kids we played charades using all the activities and things we'd done the entire week. Eitan and I had stayed up till 2 the previous night writing cards to each kid, which we handed out with a printed picture of our group (Hawaii) and the lyrics to our song written out as well.

I was exhausted every day after the kids left at 1. It was an exhaustion like none I've ever experienced before; more tired than after each day during (the original) survival week, although let it be known that I probably sleep-walked sometimes that week. But after the kids left each day I was ready to drop. That said, I never managed to sleep during our break. Or I was planning an activity for the next day, or I was reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, or I was getting my elbow taken care of, or I was wandering. I found a cool spices and dried-fruits shop (the smell....) in the shuk near the mall across from where the camp was, and I went twice (once with Eitan, when we discovered it) and once with the Haifa crew, where we inhaled for 10 minutes before walking out empty-handed (and then Ron and I couldn't deal and came back 15 minutes later to get dried pineapple--unsweeted, dried mango, and dried pomello).

I really enjoyed working with younger kids, despite how shocked I was at the way they talked to each other and to other counselors. Kids in Israel start swearing early, and certainly learn how to be chutzpanim earlier than American kids. They have no shame in pulling the "I'm going to call my Daddy" line or the "who are you, telling me what to do" challenge of authority. They call each other names (benzona) and decide for themselves what the rules are. These kids are 7, and they handle each other in a way that even my Chalutzim campers didn't when they were annoyed with each other! Somehow, though, they manage to have cute faces, which kept me from sending them home.
HAPPY PESACH! This year in Jerusalem :)

February...

It's a short month, two-and-a-half of whose weeks were internet-free because of technology problems (I'm only on the internet now because I have special connections and am using the madrichim's computer).

In any case, a short summary of what happened in February.
The day I landed from Rome back in Israel (January 29) was exactly 5 months since I'd landed in Israel way back in September.

Our first week back was a week planned by Chulyat Lemida (Lemida=learning, education), and they had chosen their topic to be media/as it relates to Israel advocacy. We had a number of people come speak to us, including army spokesmen and news anchors from Israeli channels, as well as graduates of the program who now work in media. That entire week passed in a blur, as nearly every spare moment was filled with last minute touches on Shavua Omanut (Art Week), for which I was part of the planning committee.

We'd received an entire week blank, empty, with 26 spots to fill with whatever and whoever we wanted. The night before our week started we pulled an all-nighter, decorating the mechina like it's never been decorated before with posters from concerts and movies and shows that we took from announcement boards around Tel Aviv a few days before. Dvir (Seattle) and I were "mnahaley yom" the first two days, which meant we were in charge of hearding the group from place to place, making sure the speakers were coming, and etc. There was a bit of an unexpected event when one of the speakers cancelled, but we covered and it ended up being an interesting lecture by Gilad (head of the mechina) about art in the Holocast.

There were a wide variety of things that week: healing clowns, art therapy, workshops, architecture, print-making, drawing/proportions... for the last two and a half days we were in Tel Aviv and went to a cemetary where a lot of famous artists and poets are buried, we went to Chaim Nachman Bialik's house and had an architecture tour of the Bauhaus buildings in Tel Aviv. We heard a lecture about art and the bible, from a speaker who usually charges 600 shekel for an hour, but spoke for free. He was incredible, and what was really cool was that all the art he showed was what Galya and I had seen the week before in Italy! I contacted Micha Bar-Am, my favorite photographer (he has some incredible photography that really define events in Israeli history! http://michabaram.com/) and he came and spoke to us as well. Also Chanoch Piven, who makes portraits of politicians and other such famous people out of food and found objects (picture of Darwin):

There was a writer for Eretz Nehederet (Israeli version of SNL) who came to talk to us, and also a lecturer about feng shui. It was just really incredible to see how the week came together so well after two months of planning!

The next week was a week planned by Chulyat Ezrachut Pe'ilah (citizen activism). There week was focused on injustices in society, and we went to a protest in Tel Aviv against the charge that the ATM takes, especially on those who don't know the rights of consumers (elderly, immigrants, etc.) We also went to a conference where Members of Knesset spoke against the building of a coal refinery in Ashkelon.

After that was Shavua Chinuch (Education week), were we began by going to different schools in the area to see the attitudes of students, teachers, and Israel to education and to each other and the different types of atmospheres. The principal of a Montessori preschool came, as well as a mother who homeschools her daughter (she was very interesting, as she doesn't just sit with her daughter over a workbook 5 hours every day. She's worked it out in a very clever way), and a Rabbi who's the principal of a Chassidic Yeshiva talked about education in the Chassidic circle. The last two days of the week were spent at a Leadership Seminar in Tel Hai (the north), where there were a lot of panel discussions and, possible more important, thousands of ripe, ruby red strawberries. (That's probably what I'll remember in 20 years about the seminar...) it was a lot of fun, though, and very interesting.

And then PURIM! (We had a costume party and I dressed up as a pregnant religious woman. It's the easiest costume...). I've been missing a lot of the lectures this week because I'm re-jetlagging myself: calling Americans between 1:30-6:30 am Israel time about coming to the program next year, which means I'm sleeping during the day.
Next week is Survival Week, which we don't know anything about... the suspense is part of what we have to survive.

Anway, that's a short update.

Broadcasting Live from Rome, this is Abby, Rachel, and Galya!

Right-o, so I came back from Rome a week ago.

I was in Italy for a week with Galya and Rachel (Galya's friend from home, and at the other location of our Mechina), which is something we'd talking about nearly since the beginning of the year. We bought our tickets the day before going to Gadna (at 2:15am, when we didn't even have official permission to go), because we weren't going to have time afterwards to by them. Luckily, Dan/Orly (from the Israel Experience organization) gave us permission to go.

Anyway, because of the a) lack of computers for the entire week of Gadna, b) Chulyat Kvutza's week (my Chulya) the week after Gadna--at the end of which we flew to Italy and c) the abundance of Art Week (next week) meetings during all of Kvutza's week, it was nearly impossible to plan an actual itinerary for what we were doing in Rome.

In fact, we only decided to go to Florence at 1am last Friday morning, an hour and a half before the taxi came to take us to the airport. We were booking our hostels (like I said, we really did not plan our itinerary in advance. It kind of made me nervous. We were also sort of under the impression that we'd just be able to show up at a hostel and stay there. Luckily, we booked.) and decided it would be nice to take a train to Florence for two days in the middle. So we booked a hostel there too.

We were completely pooped by the time we got to the airport, because none of us had slept more than about 3 hours in the preceding two days... lo nora.


ARRIVAL/FRIDAY Jan 22

We had no trouble getting to Rome, except when I chekced the weather the forecast was predicted to be mid-50s all week... and when we landed the pilot said "Welcome to Rome. The temperature is currently 0 degrees Celsius." (Galya punched me. She's from LA and doesn't know what cold is.) Although there was a bit of confusion when we were trying to meet up with Rachel's friend Matt (who is studying in Rome for the quarter and who were stayed with for the first two nights), we found our way tiredly but happily. Matt took us on a nice walk around the area (he lives right by Campo di Fiori, which is home to one of the most famous open-air markets in Rome, and is right next to where Julius Caeaser was killed) and also through the Jewish Ghetto (it used to be a ghetto--for 300 years--but the name just stuck) where we got some kosher deli sandwiches, some challah, and some Bartenura wine for Shabbat. We went to Kabbalat Shabbat at the Great Synagogue--where we were only let in by security after having our passports and IDs checked (there was a terrorist attack there in the '80s, I believe). The shul was packed (we were not in the main chapel) which was nice to see, because it means the Jewish community is alive and well. We only found out afterwards that we were at the Sephardi service not the Italian one, so that was kind of a bummer. (Italian Judaism is not considered Ashkenazi or Sephardi, because the Italian Jews came to Rome before the distruction of the Temple and subsequent dispersion of the Jews around the world.) When we got back to Matt's we crashed until he got home--and made us a delicious dinner of pasta with cooked spinach/broccoli and cheese. It was one of the best Shabbat dinners I've ever had, actually.


SATURDAY JAN 23

We didn't wake up in time to go to shul on Saturday, and instead spent the day wandering around the city. We went to Castel de Sant'angelo, which used to be a mausoleum before it was turned into residences (and now it's a museum, like most other things in Rome...) It looks like a giant ship. The sidewalk in front was covered with all sorts of tourist-shop/booths with things like calendars and tchotchkes and really beautiful opera masks that we played with until the merchant said we had to buy or skidaddle.


We skidaddled. We found ourselves at a flea market and got very excited and planned to go back when we could buy stuff (ie: not on Shabbat) but know that it would happen. We also wandered into probably 15 different churches; they literally litter the streets of Rome, popping up between every unsuspecting two buildings filled with beautiful art and mosaics, and tourists. The irony was that we went to lots of churches on Shabbat, and no synagogue. When in Rome do as the Romans, I suppose. At a Jesuit church that we found ourselves in there was a beautiful diorama/replication of Jesuit churches in a number of different countries. The models were all made of wood, and very intricately built.


Somehow in our meandering, we ended up in a museum כלשהו that had an exhibit called Australia Today--aborigine paintings and sculptures. With the map that we bought in Israel (that listed "gay" as a type of food, along with "Jewish" and "Chinese" and "Italian") we navigated to Piazza Navona, famous for the best gelato in Rome. We saw there the fountain of the four rivers (designed by Bernini), which was right next to a church designed by his student, Boromini. From there, we went to the Pantheon which basically is a huge echo chamber, although you're not allowed to yell there. It's as wide as it is tall, and its dome is essentially the inspiration for all domed buildings. The pantheon is larger than ginormous (which is actually a word), and very well-designed (the floor is sloped with holes in the center for water drainage).


The Trevi Fountain (water for the Trevi Fountain gets recycled via aqueduct to the Fountain of the Four Rivers) is possibly the most packed tourist-attraction that we saw. We were asked by countless men with polaroid cameras if we wanted to pay for a picture, and also tried to convince one man that we didn't know English so he'd stop bothering us; we failed when he saw that the tour book we were looking at was in English. Oh well. We walked to the Spanish Steps, because we'd read that there were free tours at 5:30--we found the tour... and were more than a little surprised when the tour wasn't actually of the Spanish Steps, rather of all the sights we'd seen that day (seriously: Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Piazza Navona, etc.) It was actually really nice to have been able to wonder and discover by ourselves, and then to get a briefing (not the right word. for Hebrew speakers, think תידרוך) of the history and importance of everything. For dinner we crossed the river, to the less touristy side of Rome, and found a nice Indian place to eat; we decided it might be funny to eat a different cuisine each day we were in Rome.

SUNDAY JAN 24

We had planned to sleep in a bit and then to head out for the farmers' market in Campo di Fiori to get some fresh vegetables and bread for breakfast. When we walked outside and saw that there were no shops there, we realized that we were in Rome, and Sunday is their Sabbath. Oops! We tried to find something to eat, but everything was closed, not just in the market. "The Jewish Ghetto probably has something" we decided, but got lost on the way there and ended up finding a corner-store type place to grab a pizza and some pastries. The store happened to be right across the street from the Vittorio Emanuel monument and a tribute/statue "for the unknown soldier" (it's a rather large statue for someone who they don't even know who he is).


With our map in hand, we headed back to Matt's, packed up, left a note, and booked.

To get to our hostel we walked--backpacks, suitcases, and all--through the more downtown-y, less tourist-y part of Rome, which was really great to see. By that time, stores and shops had opened, so we stopped at a grocery store and bought ourselves some good, American PB&J materials. When we got to the the Chianti Hostel the Romanian girl who works there asked for our name. We said "Rachel Wolf." She said, Äll of you? Here I have Rachel Wolf as one person, three nights. But you are three people." Luckily, everything worked out and there was enough for three people, one night.


We didn't have a knife with us to spread the PB&J... so I found a pencil in the bottom of my backpack and we used that. Afterwards, we headed over to the Colosseum. You know, that big famous building? We read about it in the guide book we borrowed from Matt, and then got in line (actually, there was no line. That's the great thing about going in the winter, during a time that's not high tourist-season!). We saw that going with a guide was somehow 50 euro cents cheaper than just an entrance ticket... so why not? We went with a guide. The tour was a lot shorter than we expected it to be, but I actually did learn a lot (there's a maze of paths under the Colosseum which is where they kept the animals before releasing them. The boards/sand with which the paths were covered was called arena, which is where we get the word. Also, we read something that said that Jewish slaves were among the slaves who built the Colosseum). Our tour guide had very bizarre speaking mannerisms, but we enjoyed it a lot. We also ran into a woman who had been on our free tour on Saturday.


We attempted to find the entrance to the Roman Forum, and instead found ourselves on a dead-end path that led us straight to SURPRISE an abandoned church. When we got to the entrance to the Roman Forum, it had closed 15 minutes prior. What a bummer, because our Colosseum ticket would have gotten us in to there, as well! No need for regrets, but it is frustrating to know that if our planning had been a bit more organized ahead of time we would have been fine. I started to get a little nervous that we were going to get to see everything we wanted to see, because I'm not used to doing trips without planning ahead of time--but I think it was good for me to be with Rachel and Galya who weren't into a strict-schedule type thing.


On our way to Capitol Hill we got sidetracked when Galya saw a sign for a surrealism exhibit (she's a bit of a surrealism freak). We went in, and ended up spending about 2 hours at the exhibit there. I really enjoyed it, and saw a lot of artists that I'd never heard of that had really interesting work! (I kept a list). One of my favorites was a painting of a woman's back, onto which the artist had painted the openings that are on a violin--I don't know how you call them. Basically a violin-back. My other favorite was an empty page of sheet-music (ie: a page of music staff) where the artist had started drawing notes, but by the end it had turned into scrawled words.


On our way back to the hostel we saw some anti-Israel graffiti, which was more shocking than disappointing, I think. We just weren't expecting it at all; it was clearly by the same person. We passed a sign for an exhibit about Leonardo da Vinci, but it had just closed. We took a flier and wanted to go back sometime (but never found the time). True to our thought about a different cuisine every night, we found ourselves at an Irish pub for dinner, where we had an excellent hour-and-a-half of people watching: an Asian man with dreads, a woman with too many piercings, an elderly man who read the menu with a large magnifying glass, a couple that we weren't sure if they were a lesbian couple or a heterosexual couple, and a group of four middle-aged women friends, one of whom we decided was "Abby Senior." At one point during the meal, a man walked into the restaurant trying to sell roses to the patrons. We ordered one glass of italian beer, which was a lot better than any of the beer any of us have had in Israel.


Back at our hostel, we were glad to find that the two Brazilians we were sharing our room with had computers. One, Daniel, selflessly helped us plan our trip to Florence for the next day. He looked up train times and alternatives and prices and everything for about an hour, and even came to the rescue when Galya's ring fell down the drain.

I'll continue writing about the rest of the trip later, but I figure it's better to get at least something on the web.

ROME!

I'm going to be in Rome from January 22-January 29... no internet until after.

Expect a good post then

A Much Delayed Post About My Week in the West Bank

Let me first begin with a short introduction (self-reference). Shavuat Yehuda v'Shomron (Shavuat Yosh) was planned by Chuliat Yosh ("Yosh"=Judah and Samaria), an independent Chulia that arose for the purpose of planning the week. Somehow, Yosh managed to function as a dictator, and "stole" days from the week before it. While most weeks start on Sunday, Yosh hijacked Thursday, Friday, and Shabbat (it wasn't supposed to be a Shabbat that the Mechina spent together).

Thursday we were at the Mechina, and had three lecturers, and on Friday we already set out on the way to Kdumim, our first stop. Kdumim is a yishuv in Shomron, the northern "bubble" of the West Bank. It was there that we stayed for Shabbat, sent off in pairs or groups of three or four to differet families. Before the splitting, however, Daniella Weiss, ifluetial in the fouding of the yishuv, showed us around the area. To get to a nice lookout of Kdumim and Shchem, among other nearby cities, we climbed up a hill. It was a hike--a small one--but the climb up a mountain over rocky and winding paths is these people's back-yard! The most incredible thing was not the information she shared with us, but that she knew it all. He knows every single house on every single ridge on every single mountain that you can see from Givat Rashi.

After that, we split off into our Shabbat groups. Noa and I were at the Paz family--a family with 7 kids, although only 4 of them were home. In terms of religiosity, the Shabbat wasn't differet from anything I'm used to, although for Noa it was. Being part of her first observant Shabbat was actually really exciting; exciting to show her the page numbers in the siddur at shul for Kabbalat Shabbat and to explain some things that the family did... In the morning we got to shul in time for Kaddish at the end of shacharit, oh well. In terms of ideology, the Shabbat was different from almost everything I'm used to. They did't try to force their ideology on us, not at all, and they didn't initiate political conversations. In fact, they were very open to the fact that we would probably be coming from a very differet perspective than them, and welcomed our questions and tried to answer to the best of their ability. The mother, Lavia, was born in Ramat Gan, which I think actually makes her story more interesting; she chose to move to the West Bank. From that, and the way her girls were able to take us out back and point out every hill, explain what's going on in the lives of the people who used to live where the goverment has now frozen settlements, their connection to the land is very clear. The connection to the land itself, something that I know is a key tenet of the Druze, is somethign that I've had a very hard time uderstading, so listening to them show (show, not tell) the importace was especially interesting.

On Friday evening we had a shiur with Daniella again, although I can't remember all of it because I didn't write because it was Shabbat. An interesting point that I do remember, though, is that Kdumim is not surrounded by a fence (it is surrounded by Arab villages). The choice, made by Daniella and the community council, was a purposeful one. Their theory was that fence=fear=vulnerability, and by showing that they're not scared of the surrounding Arabs, the Arabs won't attack.

On Saturday night we met again with Daniella, and spoke with Shlomi Chazoni (uncle of a girl I'm going to be going to school with next year) and Rabbi Natan Cohen, who spoke about Breslever Chassidism and the origins of the who Rabbi Nachman movement. A question I still haven't been able to answer, though, is that the whole idea of Breslever Chassidim is a person's personal connection, individual conversation with God. But then why do they follow so strictly the halacha about the specific ways in which and times when you're supposed to pray? Especially when one of their biggest things is "pray for everything, even the smallest thing"--isn't that sort of devaluing the meaning of prayer?

Moshe Zar is very very very right wing. When you walk into his house, the first thing you see are books--every wall has floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books and books on top of those. There's an ancient chandelier that's probably covered with spider webs ad ablack wood cabinet with two lions of Judah o it. We sat on a red Persian-style carpet that I'm sure would have looked a lot differet if we were to have taken it outside and beaten the dust out. The chairs that we pushed to the sides of the room in order to sit o the floor are like thrones; deep, rich-colored wooden backs and arm rests with seats upholstered in crimson velvet. Behid me were four tarnished, yet embellished covers for daggers. Aboe them was a giat Chinese-style chandelier/lantern with two red cloth balloo holders for the lightbulbs. "This is a beautiful house," I said to Uri. He replied, "Yeah, too bad it's stolen." I think that's a good mood setter for what Moshe Zar told us. Summed up in one (translated) quote, it was basically, "I'm not against Arabs. I'm for Jews." But those don't have to be mutually exclusive! And why should he care if the Arabs in Natzeret Elit tear down their houses ad rebuild them "from edge to edge". So they don't wat a yard, why does that matter? It's not good or bad to not have a yard... it certainly doesn't make them bad people. Listening to Moshe Zar was very hard, and Galya and I kept sharing glances. What was interesting, though, was the feedback from Mechinistim afterwards; some found listening to him just as hard as I did, and others had fallen in love with him.

"I think this is the most beautiful place I've ever bee. I've ever said this word before, but this view is breathaking," said Tal of the view from Har Kabir, the moutain about Eilon Moreh (north of Shchem). It's a place that's described it he Bible, a place where they built an exact replica of the Temple, and among the first places settled in the Shomron. If it was a clear day, we'd have been able to see the Medditeranean Sea, the Jordan River, and Mt. Hermonn (three borders of Israel). "This tiny place is what the whole world is fighting about!?" said Benny Katzover, who showed us aroudn the mountain. We couldn't see any of those things, because a cloud of fog had settled getly over our 800m high moutain. Down to the bottom of this moutain, everythig was clear--just grass and big stoens. But right at the critical poit (ie: the middle of the valley) the view looks like the Claritin Commercial before the hand peels off the foggy layer. As the distance increases the view was more ad more smudged, like an oil-pasted drawing that the artist has purposely smudged to erase sharp lies; everything blends smoothly together. At the horizon there was a thicky gray cloud that lowered itself over the land for as many degrees as I ca see (with an occasional moutain-side poking through) which makes the ground appear as though it's o a patfrom because the sky above is blue blue with only an occasional cloud. Althgouh the phrase seems oxymoronic, I can best describe the visibility as a clear fog. It's very light--words like majestic come to mind. Somebody said the Garden of Eden. What Benny Katzover told us is that the archaeologist Adam Rosenthal did a dig there and found bones; lots and lots of animal bones. All the bones were from Kosher animals, ad 95% were from animals less than one year... descriptions of the sacrifices made during the time of the Temple.

That evening we drove to Kiryat Arba, where we slept at a school. Elyakim Ha'etzi (grandfather of someone from the Mechina) spoke with us. Some things I was thinking: What percetage of the non-settler Israeli Jewish population identifies as right/thinks that the West Bank should by settled by/under Israeli control. What percentage of the non-religious non-settler population?... Terminology makes such a differece--Elyakim did't hide his bias at all. The nuances are decisive if people don't kow the story, because they're hearing it from only one biased point of view, instead of multiple biases. His solution to the problem is to give the Arab population "autonomy"; basically, the name but none of the rights. Israel would have control of the water and skyways, and that the autonomous Palestinia state wouldn't have any rights to build a military or to have weapons, or to make international agreements. So what would would they be able to do? And would they every agree to those conditions? My asnwers are "nothing" and "no", respectively. Another thing he said "God forbid you think I have any sort of hate for the Arabs. But we're not talking about one person, we're talking about them in general." But that's the problem--you can't make generalizations like that. That's like saying, "I hate Jews but you... well, you're different. You're an okay Jew."

The next day we went to Hebron, to Ma'arat HaMachpelah (the cave that Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, and Leah are buried in.) There was so much security there--lots of soldiers ad two sets of metal detectors. We could see the Muslim section through barred windows from one of the Jewish areas, but we couldn't go in. The Muslim section, what I could see of it, was beautiful--colors and calligraphy. Listening to Noam's talk about the capture of Hebron in '67 and etc. we ca hear me singing "Shabchi Yerushalayim" from the room enxt door. They're siging with such intensity, such emotion. Listening to them actually brought tears to my eyes, although I know that if I was in the same room as them I wouldn't have had the same feeling because it would have bee the same old "watchig me pray" deal. But hearing them sing--snig as one voice, the tones rising and falling in unision, illustrates how song alone can be spiritual. The nusachim after they finish Shabchi Yerushalayim are mostly familiar, but eve the ones I don't know have similar structures to the oes I do. It's a comforting sound, too. Light and in the background, but back and pervasive, as all. There's also a over-voice, it sounds like a muted echoing hum. You can hear their belief.

Sitting in the yard outside of Maarat Hamachpela, I looked aroudn at the buildings. Across the street is an apartment made of thick, yellow, Jerusalem stone. On the roof is a Arab woman wearign a long, Cubby-blue dress, and a scarf tied on her head. She's strung two clothes lines ad is clipping wet laudry up to dry. It's a hot day, shouldn't take long. I'm certainly more used to the sight of hanging laundry now than when I first got here; but I still get excited every time. We walked through the ghost-like streets of Hebron, and I had trouble keeping up with the group because my eyes were stuck on the painted-over signs and the abandoned stores, the vacuum of citizens replaced with Israeli soldiers and their M-16s every meter or so. I had a hard time focusing on what our tour guide was telling us about what we were seeing, instead paying attention to visual clues. And small, trivial details: the repair man working on one of the synagogues was wearign construction-tzit tzit (made of denim)! Also, everything in Hebron is in memory of somethig--every buildig, every house. I lost track of the umber of houses I saw with doors painted in bright colors with "in memory of our son, who was killed...". Some other thoughts that I'd like to share as well, but there's simply too much more to write, and not much more time, and the blog is already so long.

A break from the political side of things, we also looked at some ancient sites in the West Bank; among them were Sussya and Herodion. I don't feel like writing about Sussya or Herodion really, for that matter. Except to say that the remains are incredible. Especially at Sussya, you can tell what a sophisticated society it was and what sophisticated engineering they had, even in the 4th century. Herodion (Herod's palace) is also incredible--they basically built the city and then covered it in a man-made mountain.

The final thing we did in the West Bank was go to the Sdeh Bar Farm. Basically an alternative home for kids who would otherwise have ended up in juvie. A really great idea, very impressive the way they've built the farm ad the community there, with having the kids join families as opposed to having "staff." It's in the West Bank not for ideological reasons; simply beacuse of the belief that in order to solve a problem you have to remove the person from the problem environment--and finding a lot of open land is Israel is really hard to do. We played with newborn goats and had fresh dolce con leche!

Because of the difficulty of preseting more left-leaning positions in the West Bank, we waited to hear those until returning to the Mechina. One of the most interesting lectures we heard back at the Mechina was "three states for two nations"(Eitan Keter Yaakov). He did a simulation with the tallit. He had Jews, Palestinias, the right, the left, the Americans, the whoever... each hold on. Everyone wants a part of it. But if we keep going, we're goinng to rip Israel apart. It's like King Solomon and the baby...maybe. His solution is somewhat complicated; if you really want to know I can explain it later. Don spoke about the religious left, which was iteresting, and about the connection to the land itself... the way the Arabs are connected to the land. Anyway, I really can't sum up everything all the speakers said, but if someone is interested I can write more later.

On Thursday we had a tour of the separation barrier/wall/fence in Jerusalem with an orgaization called Rabbis for Human writes, which is an apolitical organization. I'll just say two things: we went to Kever Rachel (where Rachel is bured)--I've see the burials of all the ancestors now. Also, there we saw hundreds of cookie-cutter boys: little Chassidic boys wearig sweaters and velvet kippot and payot. The other thing is that we went to Silwan, and Arab village where two Arab me spoke to us. At the end, one of them pulled out the key to the house his family left in 1948. The key is big--a skeleton key--strug on a thick white string. I thought that was just in the books, I didn't know people actually carried the key around with them.

I APOLOGIZE FOR SPELLING MISTAKES.... the n is elusive on this keyboard.

Christmas in the West Bank

I'm used to eating Chinese food (or, not really eating it, but explaining that a lot of Jews do eat it) and going to a movie on Christmas.

This year will be a bit different; in about an hour the Mechina is heading off for a week in the Settlements of the West Bank. We'll be spending Shabbat in Kdumim with host families--I'm paired with my friend Noa (from Ramat Gan). We'll also be going to Kiryat Arba and Gush Etziyon, among other places.

I'm sure that after the week is done there will be a very interesting blog or two to write...

Shabbat shalom and Merry Christmas!

Weekend in Tzur Hadassah (not this past weekend)

As I said in the previous blog, Yotam fell asleep on the drive to Tzur Hadassah. But the rest of us were awake, and I enjoyed looking out the window at the view. The first stop was Yotam's, and then Hadar's, and then Itai's. I had planned to sleep at Inbal's (camp counselor this summer) house, but turned out she had to leave at 6am for work, so I decided better to sleep at Itai's. We went over to her house, though, because Itai is also friends with her brother Dror. Yotam and Maayan (their other friend) came too; while they hung out, Inbal and I talked. By around 11:30 we were starting to get tired, so came back and went to sleep (after I spent a long time copying my pictures from my memory card to my external harddrive).

Woke up around noon, ate something, and then Itai took me to Yotam's, where I hung out for the day. We looked at his baby pictures (he was a very cute baby!) and I got to see how the Imri/Yotam farm looked at the beginning, which is very different than how it looks now. Then I showed him some of the ones that I scanned and loaded onto Facebook. He kept feeding me—everywhere I go, they feed me! Also, his mom kind of reminds me of my mom. Yotam is the third of four kids—two redheads, a dirty-blond, and a black hair—which seems to be a relatively common number of kids in Israel, even in non-religious families. After going to Kabbat Shabbat with Itai (the shul is literally in a trailer), I went back to Yotam's for a family dinner—not Shabbat dinner, but a family dinner. Then we hung out some more, and I pointed out two books on his bookshelves that he has to read: he started The Last Lecture (which, unfortunately, I still haven't read) and I picked up Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (ELIC, one of my favorites, and reading it in Hebrew is really interesting because Foer's writing style is very distinct. Most of it translates well, but some of the magic is definitely lost.)

I also got to talk to Yotam a lot, which I've sort of only done on a superficial level until now. One of my favorite things about going to friends from the Mechina for the weekends is that it gives 48+ hours where there's really no choice but to talk to them, an opportunity to get past the "yeah, I really liked that speaker," or "what are we having for lunch?" or "I don't feel like running" and to get to the "I love this book because…," "why do you agree with that policy," or "It was really hard for me at the Mechina in the beginning because…" Yotam brought me to Adiel's for a while, which was nice. Later we came to Itai's, along with Dror (one of the silliest people I've ever met. The similarity in personality between him and Inbal is incredible) and Maayan, and later Yael from the Mechina came as well.

Saturday involved a lot of just hanging out, reading (Itai also has ELIC) and snoozing. Galya came, and we went out for a tour of Tzur Hadassah in the car after picked up Angels and Demons at the movie rental place (which is actually a movie vending machine). When we came back, Yotam called and asked if Itai wanted to go running with him; Itai didn't, but I said yes.

We went for a 15 minute run around the neighborhood, by the end of which my Achilles Tendons and ears were burning (Achilles I don't know why, ears from the cold). Most of the time I kept up with Yotam, although I had to walk for a bit. Then we did calisthenics (thanks, DD!). We started with arm strength: two sets of 10 pushups with hands shoulder-distance, 10 with hands wide, 10 with switching off between right hand farther forward and left hand farther forward, and 10 with legs propped up on a block. Then moved on to abdomen: two sets of 25 sit-ups, 25 touching each elbow to opposite knee (right ankle is propped on left knee, left elbow touches right knee), 50 "penguins" (lying down, knees in "wedge position", touching each hand to ankle bone), and then propping yourself up for as long as you can with hands clasped—essentially push-up position. After that we moved to back: two sets each of 20 "superman" (lie on stomach, clap hands in front of head and then behind back), 20 "breaststroke" (lie on stomach, raise hands in front of head, bring perpendicular to body and raise again), and 20 "upper body lifts" (hands "at attention" behind your back, raise your upper body from your waste)—all three of these are done with your legs lifted above the ground. It was probably the best workout I've ever done, because I didn't let myself give up at all, and Yotam kept me at pace.

Tiyul Campus Negev

A small crisis the morning of the tiyul: I put my newly-charged battery into my 3-month-old Canon SD 1200 camera to make sure that it's completely charged and that I have room on my memory card only to find the dreaded: "Lens error, restart camera" message on the screen. Luckily, I brought my old Nikon Coolpix 5600 to Israel as well or I wouldn't have had a camera for the trip. It is a bummer, though, and it looks like I'm going to have to ship the Canon back to the States for repair (because of some silly Canon policies).

DAY 1 (Nov 29-exactly 3 months since landing in Israel!):

I think I once commented that the days you need the most sleep are the days you get the least. On trips, for example, you want to be well-rested so you can be coherent and energized when you get up at 5:30. You'd rather not go to bed at 2, which leaves you only three-and-a-half hours of sleep. Maybe one day I'll learn how to plan ahead (and how to pack without throwing my entire closet onto the floor). In any case, that day hasn't come. And anyway, we had a fun time packing--it was the first time in a long time that all 6 of us have been in the room at the same time (except for when we're sleeping). We turned on music and had a dance party at the same time.

The trip started at Mitzpeh Revivim, which was one of the first three settlements in the Negev. It was established as a settlement in 1943, but had previously been used by the Ottomans; we got to walk through Byzantine caves that were strategic in the defense of the Negev as bunkers and hospitals. From there we continued on to Nitzana and Sha'ar Hashalom, where we were unexpectedly greeted by a multi-national helicopter that keeps tabs on relations on the Israeli-Egyptian border. We took advantage of the opportunity presented to us in the form of an Israeli soldier (from Schaumburg, IL) who did Garin Tzabar (but doesn't plan to make aliyah until later in life); she spoke to us about her army service on the border and about talking every day and hanging out with the Egyptian guards. What stands out about Sha'ar Hashalom are the pillars--there are 90 pillars, each with "peace" written in a different language.

We got very close to the Egyptian-Israeli border, and there heard a lecture by Zevik (that I semi-took notes during, but couldn't repeat to you for a million dollars). The most interesting part of the day was at Shivta, an ancient Nabatean church. Although Zevik's lecture was interesting, the gorgeous sunset and little boy climbing the ruins of the church were more distracting. The boy, who was probably 8 or so, was dressed entirely in olive-green, including his fleece hat, was barefoot. He followed us from the moment we arrived at Shivta, and pranced ahead of us from there to the church ruins, where he stole the stage from Zevik every thirty seconds. When Zevik finally succeeded to step into the spotlight, the boy ran off and started climbing the church ruins, jumping from stone to stone and running along. Watching him was fascinating, and as I took pictures of him I couldn't help but think that this was how a National Geographic photographer feels: the story is not the church ruins, the story is the little boy who runs along them barefoot.

As Galya and I were climbing some of the ruins, he came over to us and asked her, "Are you married? Why not? Don't you want to get married? Do you love someone? I want to get married when I'm 16" and then "How old do I have to be before I can touch a gun? I want to hold one like him. Why can't I before the army?"

Then we met his mother, who decided around ten years ago with her husband that they wanted to move to settle in the Negev. They're the only people for miles around and, although she says her kids go to school and meet other children, it seems like a very secluded lifestyle. She's happy with it, and the carefree way in which she lets her kids run around and explore by themselves is wonderful. ("One day he'll decide that he wants to wear shoes. But until then, why should I make him do it? He wears shoes to school, because he knows those are the rules.")

DAY 2 (Nov 30):

In Dimona we saw "Kfar haStudentim", basically a student community of 50 or so who live and do community service projects together at the same time as doing their studies.

Then we split into three groups to do our own community service projects--I went to Mitzpeh Ramon to clean the boardwalk. Luckily, I was selected as a "1", which meant that I was cleaning next to the crater. It's absolutely gorgeous; the sand in the crater is all sorts of browns and reds and even some black. Where were cleaning there was also a "Sculpture Park" (better than Skokie's, I think). There was a mini-Stonehenge, and the coolest swings I've ever seen (picture), as well as other larger-than-life sculptures and toys that we could climb. The best part, though, was the Bedouin woman there with her flock of children and goats. So we chased the goats and Galya and I--again--wanted to do some National Geographic style photography, but decided that photographing the woman's children wasn't so appropriate. I did get some nice shots of the goats, and Carmel did some nice "baaa-ing." Oh yeah, we also picked up garbage. Really, we did. Unfortunately for those who didn't clean at Mitzpeh Ramon, they didn't really get to see the crater up close (we went to the visiting center, which is not the same. And, in any case, didn't get to spend a lot of time there. There were also typos on the English signs there, which I took pictures of to show Gideon).

DAY 3 (Dec 1--how is it December already?):

We started off the day at Andartat Hativat Hanegev (a war memorial from the War of Independence.) The memorial is different than any I've ever seen; it's not a wall with names engraved on it, or a larger-than-life statue of some forgotten hero. Instead, the architect really thought about what he was doing. It's a memorial with 18 parts, each symbolizes a different aspect of the war (ie: there are holes on domes, symbolizing bullet-holes). As soon as Nir finished explaining each of the parts, he let us have 15 minutes to explore, which most people used to climb on the andarta rather than to read names or the battle information. After the 15 minutes were up, Dan sad: "When Nir let you go, הפכתם את האנדרטה להיות מגרש משחקים בצורה פסיכי" (Basically: You went back to being 5 year olds--what happened?) Although people were at first ashamed and felt accused, it turned out to be a really great question, because it made us think: what did the architect intend by making an out-of-the-ordinary memorial? Was he saying that war is just part of Israeli life, and the abundance has left us jaded? Or was his purpose to get us to feel what the battle was like--lumbering up ladders, crawling through tight tunnels with slits of light and peering through peepholes.

In Be'er Sheva we saw the old Turkish train station (the Turks connected Damascus to Be'er Sheva) and also a British cemetery. The cemetery was the most pristine, well-kept, clean, orderly cemetery I've ever seen. The headstones all looked brand-new, although they were from more than 60 years ago, and stand in stiff rows and columns unlike the haphazardly-placed headstones in the old Jewish cemeteries. In Israel, Jews are buried without coffins, because the ground is holy (and if Mashiach comes then we'll all walk to Jerusalem. But that's weird). The Brits (Christians), however, are buried in coffins.

DAY 4 (Dec 2):

Wednesday was probably my favorite day of the whole tiyul, although there were aspects of every day that I really enjoyed. Wednesday was the day we did hiking--not nearly as intense as our Tiyul Noded, because nearly everything was flat, but we still went about 12 km. This time we were near Sde Boker (the Kibbutz were David Ben-Gurion lived and is buried). We sang much of the time, whoever was near us joined in, and we sang Hebrew and English, Beatles and Disney--whatever came to our minds we sang, and sang happily. Dan, spontaneous man that he is, invented a multitude of games to fill the time (we were ahead of schedule), and included one in which everyone starts inside a circle and tries to push each other over the line. There's something with that man and aggressive games...

As we approached Ayn Akev, a spring, Dan told me "You have to go in, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity." I said, "Fine, but I didn't bring a change of clothes." He insisted: "Then borrow boxers from someone. You can't stay wet afterwards." When we got to the spring, I didn't test the water first, because I knew that I probably wouldn't get in if I did. I knew it was cold, because Uri jumped in first and was shaking in the water. I jumped, and indeed, the water was freezing. We stayed in for a while, every now and then shrieking at the cold, and then I got out and put on a sweatshirt to warm up. (The water was colder than any Lake Michigan I've ever been in, although I don't know how cold it was). When Uri finally got out, Shir Hanuka and I hugged him to try to warm him up--he was shivering severely--but we didn't succeed in holding him still.

After lunch, we hung out and played more games while one-by-one the madrichim sent off the chanichim on solo-hikes until we reached the end of the trail. I don't know how long the solo hike was, but on the way I sang, and touched the rocks, and smelled the plants and really felt the Negev. There were stones that were pure white like snow, covered in a layer of chalk. There were flat areas with large stones seemingly dropped from above in the middle. The end was clear--I saw everyone else from the Mechina sitting in a Bedouin tent, where the woman selflessly prepared teapot after teapot of hot, sweet tea for 70+ guests. She spoke a jumbled mess of Arabic, Hebrew, and English to us, which I could surprisingly understand nearly all of.

From the time we left her tent until we got back to Sde Boker (an hour or more, I think), I talked with Shaked (the boy, not the girl) who I hadn't really talked to at all until then. A few weeks ago the staff did an activity in which we wrote notes to each other in various categories; among them was "to someone you want to get to know better, and both Shaked and I wrote a note to each other. He's one of the quietest, most shy people at the Mechina, so to have an hour-long conversation with him was really excellent, and it didn't feel forced at all. It was one of the best parts of the trip, because I think really one of the biggest parts of the trips is talking to new people and learning about them, and that experience closed the tiyul for me.

DAY 5 (Dec 3):

After Zevik's lecture at Tzrif Ben Gurion, we went to a Bedouin school and met with the principal and an engineer from the area. It was the most beautiful, well-kept school I've seen since I've been in Israel. It actually reminded me of Payton, the way there were huge windows on each floor, the walls were brightly painted, and some had student-painted murals. It's also only been opened for three years (last year was the first graduating class).

Imri lives on a farm in the Negev (incredibly close to the Green Line). His parents founded the farm a good 20 or so years ago with Yotam's family (who left about 10 years ago). His father spoke to us about starting a farm in Israel, which when he did it was nearly unheard of and today is nearly impossible. His dad prepared fresh labneh, which I don't even like, but this was extremely delicious!

We drove back to the Mechina, I threw clothes in a bag, and 20 minutes later I was in a car with Itai, his father, Hadar, and a sleeping-Yotam on my way to Tzur Hadassah (suburb of Jerusalem) for the weekend.