The Morning After

I woke up today wishing yesterday was just a dream. Hoping it hadn't happened, but sadly, it was real. I can't quite wrap my mind around a universe in which one day a soul can exist in this world and 24 hours later can be gone forever. It just makes no sense. None of this does. It doesn't make sense how a presence once felt only in any one given place in a house can be missed in every possible place simultaneously once it's gone. How does that happen? How do we as people have the power and ability to decide when an animal is ready to go? How does a perfectly healthy albeit elderly dog go from running around and jumping for treats to multiple organ failure in a matter of days, hours? How does a world exist the next day exactly the same way as it was? I now understand the need for the movie "All Dogs Go to Heaven" and believe that it certainly must be true. Where else could such a small extinguished spirit go?

I have a new appreciation for all those pet lovers out there who go so far as to put their pets on greeting cards and Santa's lap. I've been wondering about them a lot this year for some reason, but now I think I understand. When a person passes away, it's easy for other people to relate. Most people have lost someone, and it's easy to see all that a person brought into this world and everyone they have touched. With pets, it's different. The "only" contribution most pets can hope to make is to love their people unconditionally. Others may occasionally be entertained by them, but it is only their people who truly feel their absence when they're gone. And those of us that do, feel that absence everywhere. I don't really expect anyone else to understand, but it does make me feel that much more alone.

More of Israel and Heartache

I wrote this in Israel, although I can't remember when: "Writing poetry in Israel is like learning to speak Hebrew. Eventually there is SO much to say that it all comes pouring out, and it stops mattering how broken and nonsensical it may be."

Maybe If We Had

I don’t remember when your hair line began to recede
But I know how you taste first thing in the morning
And of course it’s silly to miss you
Clutching to the line once whispered in my ear
“I forgot how much I love coming home to you”

I’m not right for you
And you’re not the one for me
But the time when our bodies fit together
Has a way of making me ache on rainy days


Untitled

I miss being your friend
But I do not miss our friendship
And I don’t understand
I write poems which only I can decipher
I hide behind riddles
Cloak myself in metaphors
But they’re all about you
And the bittersweet decline of letting go


Negev

I would climb a mountain for you
I would cross a desert
I would wait for you in silence
Wrapped in thoughts of pleasure
I would study secretly
Your faults and imperfections
For the day you come to me
With water on your lips


Untitled

Be my muse
And I will struggle
With this pit in my stomach
Be my muse
I like the confusion
Let’s be honest (for once)
Be my muse
I want to pretend some more
I could deal without the heartache
But be my muse
And help me unlock all the other heartbreak never put into words
You no longer amuse me
But please please- be my muse


ESTAS

You can have your little bonding activities over your boo boos and scratches
You don’t really want to hear about this
You don’t want to know
Who wants to hear about the girl who chose this for herself?
It’s a bummer- there’s nothing cute here
Who made up that activity anyway?
Did they really want to talk about scars?
REAL scars?
Painful, scary, shameful scars which are not simply skin deep
Three pounds of metal makes for heavy conversation


It’s Good to Feel

Hello Lonely
Where ya been?
Hidin’ neath the stones?
Behind the arches?
Stayed away so long this time
I almost forgot you
But you sit down next to me
Unassuming as you are
Crawl into my shoes, between my toes
And I’m cold again
But I’ve got a place to be
I must be on my way
You can stay here if you like
All I ask is
Please don’t follow me


Excavation

The flood gates have opened
The winter rains begun
And I find with delight
That the gift is still there
As the words come pouring out onto the page
Pushed up through layers of dust
By sudden inspiration, a psychic spring
Like Jerusalem’s excavation sites
Which layer’s the last?
How deep do they go?
Will digging up one disrupt the one below?


Not You

It’s not you
Not you, not you
Who I love
At least I can convince myself
But you’re there, always there
A fact my mind can’t get around
And I always push it
I force things too fast
I want SOMETHING to happen
But I want it to last
And it’s not you
Not you, not you
Who I love

So don’t watch me like that
Don’t anticipate my touch
Look away when I’m staring
You could at least do that much
But you stare and you linger
You concede far too much
And it’s not you, not you
Who I’ll love

You don’t see the pretty
Your guard’s never down
You’re too busy explaining
To keep touch to the ground
You don’t dance to the rhythm
You force your hold on the beat
And it’s not you
Not you, not you
Who I’ll love

Even now it’s dangerous for me
To be writing this down
To put my heart on paper
Without a disguise
Yet why should I worry?
When it’s not you, not you
Not you who I’ll love?


Unanswered Questions

Can you fake electricity?
Can you stage a flying spark?
Can you pretend sincerity?
Because if you can
Please at least have the decency
To finish what you start


Turkish Sammy

I don’t need to be “repaired”
While on vacation
I don’t need to be “repaired”
At any time
You are not the first man to come along
Promising to “fix” me
But I will not make that mistake this time
I am the only one to mend me
And I am here only to be restored


From Akko to Qiryat Gat

You can’t recreate the past
She says
You can’t bring it back
Two thousand years
And we reclaimed the land
Gave breath to a dying language
She explains
Where will it end?

But I stand here
Look out over sleepy faces
Mere children
Plucked from the beds of their mothers
Scabs and the boots of soldiers
Where scratches from riding bikes used to be

And I don’t want to sit
I want to stand with them
I want to stand for my love, my nation
I will never know what it’s like to bleed for it
To give a child for its survival
I want to pretend giving up a seat
I am doing SOMETHING

Could I do what they do?
Were I in their boots
How could I not?
And while they’re at work defending “our” country
Our people, our way of life
Is it enough that I repair the world
From the safety of my other home?
Does what I do save mountains, the deserts, and streams?
Trees, birds, flowers, and faces?

Are we fighting terror or fate?
She asks
Are we?

But look at these kids- they’re babies
Boys who have just started shaving
Girls still discovering themselves
All playing at the deadliest game
Waging their lives
Sacrificed by parents
Willing to give their souls

Is there any other way?
Nations put down your swords!!!
It’s time for pruning hooks and plow shares
If only silent screams were enough

So I stand and look out over them
Thanking and blessing each one
“For our souls which are in your keeping”
Because You, Hashem, have promised
Ayeh asher ayeh

For Mnunu

Because my words are all I've ever had to give you... and because you loved them all

Motek

There were days when I would marvel
At this person in my room
Like where’d she come from?
Who the heck is she?
And other thoughts would fill my head

There were nights we stayed up talking
In the dark, the truth is spoken
How’s your life been?
Is it similar to mine?
All the answers came in time

Candid, blunt, and always laughing
We were perfectly attune
Sharing meals and showers is easy
When you give what’s in your heart

It’s so strange now
It hardly happened
We had only just begun
So the poetry switched topics
But the journey carries on

There were days when I would marvel
At this person in my room
There were days I wondered
What did I do to deserve you?

You were who I needed
And were willing to reach deep
Who knows what might have happened
If we ever simply gave in to sleep


The Candle

I want to give you so many gifts
To take with you for the long road home
But nothing packs so well
And I wouldn’t want to weigh you down
You say to me- I don’t have anything
Perhaps it is because you have already given me so much


When

The hardest thing is to choose a voice
Who best to speak of friendship?
When random comments lead to laughs
And toothpaste drooling down your chin
When what we always do
Is habit- and goodbye
When I don’t know how to thank you
And I feel the wall of tears invade my eyes
But there’s also the most important when
When will I see you again?


Maid to Order

She stood- waiting
Too much make up and a shiny green dress
Leaning on a car dressed in bows
Her hips conveying discontent
Cigarette at her lips
Daring passersby to take a picture
Waiting for the bride
Waiting for someone else’s hour
Indignant and annoyed
We are all tired of waiting
And in that moment
I knew exactly how she felt


Last Night’s Lines

Words are fickle friends
They come to me late
Looking for a one night stand
And are almost always gone by daybreak

I tell myself I’ll remember
Their names in the morning
But I rarely do

They come demanding to be written
Demanding to be heard
But sleep is also pressing

They only come when I’m alone
In fairness, they do not wish to disturb my slumber
It’s just that timing’s everything


Stahm

Somewhere between Jack Johnson and Ben Gurion’s dream
For a second I wonder
In panicked realization
How are there only three days left?!

Then I ease into memory
There has been SO much
So many early mornings
Glowing sunsets and late nights out
Learning, traveling, growing, and writing

So now words spew
Come flowing forth
And I am SO alive
Yeah, I talk a lot
But there’s mamash to say!

Happy to Be Holding Your Breath

This thought popped into my head tonight as I eased off of the bus and headed towards home after a 12 hour work day. I love the yoga class I've been going to for most of the fall, and the teacher is phenomenal. We do a breathing exercise which he claims will make our eyes shiny and our skin glow as though we are well rested from a vacation. At one point in the excercise, we hold our breath for about a 15 count and sometimes longer. Shankar always reminds us, "Focus your attention between your 'eye-bros.' Be happy to be here practicing yoga. Happy to be holding your breath longer and longer." And I realize, I AM happy to be holding my breath longer and longer.

I keep taking these giant leaps of faith into my future one year at a time. So far, they've worked out quite nicely. I am grateful to have a breath to hold as it were, and I do feel intensely alive and connected to the people and stories around me. I know I am making a difference and having spiritually fulfilling and meaningful work is beyond measure.

Needless to say, work has been going really well. Communal living on the other hand, not so much. I know we are going to cycle through various stages as a group, but right now, it's all I can do not to run for the hills sometimes. There are still a number of positive benefits, but then I also realized tonight I am in fact living the worst case scenario role play from my interview wherein one roommate does not clean the bathroom for weeks on end. Ewwww. My gut reaction is to not do my chore until conditions improve, but of course, that's not the answer. I am also in my head trying to perfect how to say to someone's face "Please stop being an ass" or "You're being an ass right now" in my "please-pass-the-butter" voice. I'll keep you posted.

And then there's Allie's making aaliyah which has been on my mind for weeks. I'm thrilled for her and simultaneously heartbroken that she's returning without me. Last weekend, I followed a friend's recommendation and found some of the best falafel this side of the Western Wall. It was so close to what I've had in Jerusalem, it seriously brought nostalgic tears to my eyes. I feel as though I am forever homesick- here and there. To further pull on heart strings, I looked up from my booth and realized I was sitting under a painting of the Old City. All the other paintings around Max's are of flowers and abstract art! The pita was so fluffy and chewy that it reminded me of the corner grocery in Arad which sold similar pita. The pita that was our staple with everything from chocolate spread to eggplant dip to hummus. Always with the hummus. Food can truly transport a person! Although I will say the kosher grocery next door though carrying several Israeli brands seems to have its seasons confused. Their bakery is serving hamentashen and not a single sufganyot to be found in the place! Has it really been a year?!!

I am happy to be holding my breath. Not letting my nostrils search for traces of powdered sugar and sweet grease. Still I wonder- what is the danger in loving two places at once?

A Poem

Yakov

There's a grave somewhere
With a sun bleached white shell
Waiting
Waiting for my return
To bring you news of my trip
Of places you have also been

But seashells and rocks are all that I can leave you
When I go
And everyone who sees them
May not know that it was me
But seashells are not native to the cemetery
And I'm an equal stranger

I miss you
And it's still hard to imagine
That you're never coming back
To tell me all about the rocks I leave
Such tragic irony

The Wheels on the Bus

Autumn in the District. The leaves are gorgeous, the drag queens are a runnin', and I am finding deep joy riding the bus. There's so much I should fill you in on about my life as of late, but somehow since my commute takes up a good chunk of my day it feels all too appropriate to pontificate about the happiness which can be public transportation.

I am learning to center myself on "the moment" and not run too far ahead in my thoughts. My new game is attempting to bring other people into the moment with a smile or a few words. When I ride the bus in the mornings especially, I make sure to pay attention to the driver. Usually, they will have a breakfast they try to sneak while driving or a crossword puzzle at red lights. Sometimes they are sick with the same crud which seems to be plaguing the rest of the city. Whenever I get off the bus, I make sure to thank them but also to pull them out of the monotony of the morning commute with a few words. It all depends on the circumstance. It can be "Feel better" or "Good luck with the rest of the puzzle" or "Enjoy your meal." I get a kick out of noticing, and often times, they are amused... I like to think occasionally charmed... by being noticed. We are all actively on this planet, although I think all too often we go into autopilot and lose track of life as it happens around us.

There's something sterile about the metro in that sense. I get unnerved by not needing to be actively engaged in pulling the cord when it's time for my stop. It always feels as though something critical to the process of traveling is missing. Also, I've found I truly enjoy other people who notice and sharing a secret smile with them. This noticing rarely seems to occur on the metro. Where as on the bus, people are always laughing at babies or young children or are otherwise interacting with each other. At times this communication is as simple as a wordless glance, but humanity thrives in those exact exchanges and innate understandings.

Then there's the people I meet. My "I'm askable" button on my messenger bag has gotten a little attention. I met a young woman named Sierra that way. Then there was the 40-ish year old man who just wanted to talk about life and love. The Caribbean man who brought an umbrella with him, because he knew if he did, then it would NOT rain. The random guy who tried to ask me for money to help him start his rap career. James Jackson who had come from several hours of dental work and told me his life story starting with growing up in Fredricksburg, VA. And of course, my new Austrian friend, Torsten, who works at the Austrian embassy and truly has become an unexpected delightful new companion! Those are just the people I've really gotten to talk to, but there are so many others.

There are a few bus drivers I now recognize, and each time I get on their buses, I instantly feel happy. I can't quite explain it, but again, in this way also, the metro is quite impersonal. There is no one to greet or to thank for the journey! Tonight in particular, maybe because it was freezing outside. Seeing the S4 come around the corner, knowing it would be warm and bright inside made me giddy. I love the way at night the bus speeds along without stopping at unnecessary stops. There are no tourists on the bus. Certainly not in the northern part of the city where I live, and most locals are not even so comfortable with the bus system.

I got on and was greeted with a familiar smile. He's the driver who usually drives me home after 11 pm. We both know this. The woman across from me who has sat in almost the exact same seat on previous rides recognizes me as well. We are all there together in one moment- familiar strangers. I give honor to our mutual respect and recognition. It somehow matters if only for the short time I'm on the bus that we're both there. I smile into the rearview mirror as I scan for my upcoming street. He does the same. It's comforting, and there's a strange beauty to those moments. The warmth of the bus is somehow partially radiated from his personality. I adore bus drivers who take the time to say hello to their passengers when they first take over the bus and drivers who take the time to tell people to watch their step. All too often we are careless with ourselves and with others, but giving care really takes so little effort. Humanity is in the taking care... or in some cases caring enough to wish others to do the same for themselves. There's a reason "take care" is a form of greeting!

I hurry up my block after telling my friend I'll see him next time, and I know I will! The key turns easily in the door, and my thoughts are now only of slipping silently into my warm and welcoming bed. It's a tremendous thing being alive and being aware of the life we've been given to live as we choose. I am blessed beyond words.

Goodnight- take care, my friends!

Reflections

I suppose it is a very fitting time of the year to sit and reflect. My commute to work these days is about an hour each way, so there's certainly plenty of time for thoughts, but rarely do I allow my emotions to connect with my thoughts. Isn't that truly the meaning of reflection? Looking in and staying open to what's staring back right at you! My thoughts I can think away, but my emotions usually steer me back to the truth. I had no idea I had so much philosophy inside me tonight! Ah... and so begins another 1 am post. Eastern standard time this time!

I have now lived in Washington DC for a few days over a month. In that time, Israel has seen the rise of a new female leader. The first in almost 40 years! The US election process has made history time and time again. Unfortunately, most recently with this ridiculous "candidacy suspension." I mean really!

Most emotionally for me personally though, WUJS Arad has closed its doors, and the staff who were my family and my support for what feels like all of last year are no longer employed by WUJS. The world marches on, but this small tragedy makes my soul ache. To know we were some of the last students to receive the enormous benefits of an education in the heart of the Negev is MAMASH a shame! WUJS promised I would come to understand and love the desert, and I did. They promised I would always have a home there to come back to, and I hope it's still true because a small part of me still lives in the sunsets above the Point. No one promised I would find myself there, but I did that as well!

I love my new community here in the District, but it's not all sparkles and pillow fights like people seem to think nine young women living together might be. It's challenging and sometimes down right exhausting, but it's yet another life experiment I'm enjoying pushing my way through.

I miss my family, that's for sure. Today was Mom's birthday, and it made me sad not spend it with her. She and Victor are coming up in October, and I can't wait! Life here moves a million miles a minute and having people who connect me to a past and a future is extremely beneficial lately. In case you're wondering, beneficial here really just means sanity keeping. I guess some would call that perspective. Which pretty much brings us back to reflecting, and I think I will end there at least for tonight.

L'shana tova, Kulam!
Sweet and warm wishes to all of you for a healthy and happy New Year!

What are these plans you speak of?

So here it is the end of April. I have one week left in this amazing place and am flooded with thoughts and emotions... chiefly exhaustion. Of course, it is 1 am, and I have not slept in the same bed for more than 3 nights in a row in weeks. I started counting tonight just for fun and realized I have slept on more than 30 beds, couches, and camping mats in the last 6 months. Yes, that averages out to a different place more than once a week. Oy! It has been quite the ride!

This past week, I started out with seder in Maccabi with my Israeli friend Noa and her family. It's a lovely rapidly growing town between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. There were 26 people at their house this Pesach, and I was so glad to be there for what will probably be one of my most memorable seders. Friday night before Pesach began, Noa and our friend Danielle indulged me by coming with me to a reform service. It was truly like coming home, and I am so thankful to have had one prayer experience like it in Israel. I was open for all prayer experiences this year, but this particular one was much needed for me to feel I truly have a religious as well as spiritual place in Israel.

Monday, I was in Tel Aviv and Netanya, and Tuesday, some of my friends and I rented a car and drove down to the Dead Sea for the Ahava Music Festival. We swam, played in the mineral mud, camped out right by the water, went to see the concert at night, swam again in the moonlight... and all the time snacked on matzah right along with the rest of the camp site. Traveling and camping this time of year are very Israeli things to do, since most people have a chofesh or vacation from work/ school and the weather is fantastic. Wednesday morning, I woke up to the sun rising over the mountains of Jordan and the sea. We made breakfast on our camping stove, put on lots of sunscreen, and headed to Ein Gedi nearby for a river hike complete with waterfalls. What an awesome way to spend Earth Day!

Last night (Wed.), I arrived for one last time (of this trip) in Jerusalem. The city has come alive with the fast approaching summer heat. Flowers are blooming in every garden, every courtyard, down every street. Sweet honeysuckle, citrus, roses, and other fragrant species waft in every direction amidst the sparkling white Jerusalem stones which the city is known for. It is a site I never expected, and one that truly must be experienced first hand! You can not only see the pretty, you can smell it too!

I had lots of plans for today, but like most plans I have tried to make lately, they changed as soon as the day began. I did, however, see a number of friends unexpectedly when I ran into them on the street. First, Sam this morning while out getting coffee (surprise!), and then Aliza tonight on the way home from a spur of the moment dinner date. It is one of the things I truly truly love about this country and will miss the most! But maybe living in DC won't be so different. Guess we'll see.

Tomorrow "the plan" is to go back to Tel Aviv first thing in the morning and go to the art museum which I have been meaning to explore for quite some time. Then it's off to Nachlat Binyamin and Allenby for some final souvenir shopping. If there's time before Shabbat, I might head down to Neve Tzedek... or it might have to wait until Thursday aka my last day in town. Saturday will probably be time to catch up on sleep and beach, and Sunday I leave to volunteer at a small winery down in the south as my time draws to a close. Then again, this is how I try to plan and rarely it seems are my days quite so organized in the end... but I absolutely love it! May it always be so! If you only knew how many things were "planned" and crossed out again each day.

This time in one week, I will be sitting with friends on the beach drinking coffee, saying goodbyes or l'hitraot... til we meet again. I know I will look out at the sea and make promises to return soon. I will think of my parents packing to come to NYC to meet me and of my grandparents who will be awaiting my call to say I have landed and will soon be back in their arms. I will be sad to have made calls to all of the relatives here one last time from my Israeli cellphone to thank them where words will simply never be enough.

In the last six months, I have learned Hebrew and patience (sovlanut). I have learned streets and entire cities. I have learned history, and I have learned about myself. And maybe it's strange to say when so far away from some of my dearest friends and loved ones, but this year, I have learned the meaning of family and friendship. I knew this week would come as all beginnings have an end, but this chapter of my life will always be precious and dear to me and very close to my heart.

Tasting the Pretty or Anything to Avoid Packing

"Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous."
--Albert Einstein

I know I don't usually start with a quote, but this was the Einstein quote of the day on google tonight. Coincidence? I think not! Here's the thing, it amazes even me at the moment how much I absolutely with every fiber of my being do NOT want to pack right now. The reality is that around noon tomorrow, someone from our program is coming to pick up our stuff and take it back to Arad. We don't actually move out of our apartment until Friday morning, but anything left behind at that point we are ourselves responsible for schlepping down south which is considerably less enticing than even packing. And yet somehow it is neither motivating enough for me to be getting my things together. Go figure. As best as I can tell, my hesitation is clearly psychologically rooted in something much deeper. Ah the grandeur of an undergraduate psych degree!

I'm just not ready for this chapter of my life to close. In fairness, there's no telling how much time I would want here given the choice. I might never leave! But it wouldn't be the same. WUJS is ending. It's time to go. I know this, and yet I'm heartbroken by this reality. From the sunny ride into Tel Aviv the day we moved here, I have been in love and exhuberantly joyful in a way I haven't felt in a long time. I remember looking out the window and thinking (totally amazed) "I did this! I made this happen! I made my own dream come true!" A momentous feeling to be sure! Our lives take so many unexpected twists and turns, it's fantastic to be able to change your own life. Who knew?Then I thought, I should remember to dream big. Who knows what else I can dream up and make happen! I have always said I wanted to live by the water on a beach somewhere, but for a long time, my daydreams were limited to moving down to Wilmington someday. Not to downplay my love of Wilmington, but Tel Aviv of course is in an entirely different category all by itself. Then there's the sheer fact that I have finally after the last almost five years after my surgeries somehow miraculously gotten my life "back on track." And on a track that's quite possibly made me even happier than I ever imagined before!

There was once a perfect quote on My So Called Life about the precise moment when your life figures out how to get good, and mine has done exactly that. I recently wrote a journal entry about this point. In a very real way, the "derailment" created by the surgeries and my subsequent seemingly coincidental and non-linear choices since then have all led me here. "G-d bless the broken road!" The fact that suddenly all of these choices seem completely relevant and meaningful only proves to me that there was a higher power having a hand in the journey.

And now, I must apologize that it has taken me three whole paragraphs to get to some truly HUGE and exciting news which perhaps needs its own entry altogether... I found out a few days ago that I have been accepted to be a participant in the AVODAH Jewish Service Corps program for this coming year!!!!!!!!!! [Insert many cheers, applause, and prayers of thankfulness and devotion here!] I will in fact blog about it later on next week once I have interviewed with potential nonprofit organizations and know more about where I'll be working. Essentially, it is a program very similar to Americorps and means I will be moving to Washington DC this August and living and working there for a year with a nonprofit organization addressing the multi-faceted issue of poverty. For more information about AVODAH itself, you can visit: http://www.avodah.net/ Suffice it to say, I applied a while back and am BEYOND thrilled to have been accepted out of a very very competitive applicant pool!! Just call me Jane "Ya Makin' the world a better place." :O) It's all I want to do!

Somewhere between our incredible apartment itself, having in affect fallen in love with Tel Aviv, and the many many wonderful things which have happened to me since I've been here- is it any wonder I have zero desire to leave?! Yes, I know I have to leave to start my next adventures, but I suspect some part of me fears losing the sense of peace and contentment I have found here. It's really quite awesome, and nothing I ever really expected. Israel has become like the senior year I never got at Drew.

For those of you who have known me a long time, you know there have been some truly dark times in my life. If only I had known all of THIS was possible! Back then, I could not have even dreamed of such bliss!

On a long walk around the city last week, I had some interesting realizations. (Be forewarned, "new age" thoughts to follow.) Eastern tradition has long believed that the world is made up of a set of elements- fire, water, metal, wood... Similarly, people also resonate with these same elements. I am, of course, oversimplifying. I started thinking, what am I made of? Many various amusing things came to mind, but then, without any doubt the answer was obvious- I am water! It is no coincidence I am a Pisces. I NEED water in whatever form; lakes, rivers, sea, and especially ocean. I have always felt a particular pull to the ocean. Then something else of greater significance occured to me.

When I was in high school and facing particularly difficult times, I used to think of myself as having a broken glass girl inside me. I definitely felt broken, and some days the shards seemed to cut so deep and were so painful. It hurt to live.

Maybe high school is like that for other people, but I was very depressed. At 26, I only now realize I have been wrong all these years though. What I felt inside was indeed sharp and excruciating, but the pieces I felt were ice and not glass. Somewhere between the Mediterranean sunshine and the warmth from the people in my life, I have finally felt the last of the ice melt. I know all of this possibly sounds so out there, but it's the only way to explain what I feel. And I know there are those others of you who truly understand, and I love you for that.
Mom, go get tissues.

Lots o' Pictures!

Can you tell which one of these is not like the other ones? :O)

Sderot Qassam Shells

For Mom and Dad

Something for Everyone

My Secret Garden

Israel is MAGIC!

Hi All!

I realize the title of this post could just as easily be "What happened to February?" and so it goes. Despite last night's attacks on the yeshiva in Jerusalem and everything else I have watched happen in this country over the last weeks, I truly do believe though that Israel is magic. It's so different being here as the world turns and tragedy strikes in the holy land. I worry more about violence striking my "little" brother's college campus then about my own safety. Maybe it's always that way. To which I of course feel the need to say- sorry Mom and Dad! Getting a call last night from them just to check in was somehow so wonderful despite not having been in Jerusalem myself. I had planned to be there but cancelled my plans when I got sick earlier in the week. Baruch Hashem for the "good" and "bad" blessings. My heart goes out to all those at the yeshiva, their families, and all who love them and call them "just to check in." My heart goes out to the family of Eve Carson, all the students at UNC, and all who love them. This is a crazy world we are living in.


But in Israel, it is spring. Almost overnight, coats and sweaters have been replaced with lighter summer gear. Maybe it's also due to the rapid influx of tourists just as the weather began to shift. My once near-private beach is quickly filling up with sunbathers and Israelis selling ice cream and rental chairs. How do the customers and the vendors come out of hibernation at exactly the same time??! Maybe the 90 degrees promised for this weekend has something to do with it!

Across the street from our apartment, there is an alley way I use to get to the senior center where I dance with Holocaust survivors every Sunday. It's the kind of shady spot you would expect to smell, shall we say, not so fresh. Yet, every week as I walk through the scent of something sweet hits me. I had confirmed with a friend that she smelled it too, but we were both still perplexed. Last week I finally solved the mystery. There's a lemon tree blooming hidden behind some construction materials. The fact that the fragrant aroma is so unexpected next to a construction site only seems to add to the magic!

I've never thought of myself as someone for big city life, but Tel Aviv is a universe onto itself. Last Thursday, I was walking back from the school in south Tel Aviv where I tutor Russian speaking kids in English and decided to wander into a tiny shoe store. Three older gentlemen were sitting in there clearly enjoying each other's company. Presumably, one of them is the owner. When I walked in, they were in the process of pouring red wine into small plastic cups... at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I smiled and said "l'chaim" in between looking at heels and boots. This instantly made me their new best friend, and they insisted I join them and have a cup. Now, my parents raised me right being the Russian family that we are. It's just rude to say no to red wine! Nevermind the time and place. I think I was also excited to have this entire exchange take place in Hebrew... and yes, I did try to turn it down at first for propriety's sake. That's probably my American side. In the end, I did not buy any shoes, but I walked down Allenby Street with my plastic cup of wine and laughed the entire way home. Where else could this happen?! It's magic! Like the Chabad men who offered us vodka and sufganyot at Chanukah time. Israel does not have nearly the same fear of alcohol that the US does. It's a part of life and a way to rejoice in life.

Another moment worth capturing- after my "wine walk" home, I got ready and went to Jerusalem for the night last Thursday. There was an Idan Raichel concert for those of us on MASA programs, and then I went to see Holler, a local band I've gotten to know well and try to catch often. Are any of you surprised? :O) It was a very late night, and the next morning my wonderful friend Lisa and I met at the shuk for brunch... and some pre-Shabbos shopping she needed to do. Now, I love our Tel Aviv shuk, but Jerusalem is something else to behold altogether! It's much bigger with stalls upon stalls of fruits, vegetables, spices, dried goods, meat, fish... you name it! Hot challah is coming out of ovens in bakeries tucked into corners, and small shops offer cheeses, wines, olives, and anything your little heart could desire. The smell and bustle of the shuk on a Friday afternoon is intoxicating and entrancing.


Lisa and I wait to be seated at a cafe along one busy walkway, but instead we are seated across from the cafe at a table set up just for us. We are up on a step at what feels like a make believe tea party, and we proceed to wave at passerbys like the beauty queens we are, seated there to serve as greeters for the market. When our food comes, I am convinced I am eating the most delicious sandwich I have ever eaten in my life! Although it's only an omelete on hearty wheat bread with fresh tomato, chives, and some sort of creamy cheese, it is out of this world! Lisa and I are too busy trading stories from the night before, laughing, and checking out our rather attractive waiter to notice the man from the stand next to us noticing our usual ridiculousness whenever we're together. I look up only to see him as he is garnishing my meal with a handful of olives he lets drop directly from his fist onto the plate. The gesture is so fluid and the morning so perfect I am nearly speechless except to turn to Lisa, crack up, and ask "Where else?!" Israel is magic!

These magic moments make up my time here. Certainly I am still rattled by suicide bombers, the closing of the street I live on for unidentified objects to be exploded by robots, by terrorists, and that earthquake a couple weeks ago... but that is not life. That is news. Life is getting up every Saturday morning to go pray at my favorite shul- a place where shoes are not required and the only thing I need to cover myself with is sunscreen. I walk down to the beach where folk dancing takes place each week from 11 to 3 pm, and I watch as people from all walks of life and of every age and ability move round and round in traditional dance. Then I walk down a few feet to the water and people watch until I'm ready to journal. Every Shabbat since we moved to Tel Aviv with very few exceptions, I have spent in awe, wonder, and peace like this. Being prayerful and utterly humble and grateful for life in this universe comes easy here. It feels worlds apart from everything else which has gone on each week. People are content and restful in the sunshine. Terrorists haven't touched this place, and no one would allow the terrorist of fear to entire this holy shrine.

Also, I have just this morning noticed something new in my face- laugh lines around my eyes when I smile that were not there before. I am changing here into someone new. What a wonderful world!

A Day in the Life...

Last night was certainly a full moon night. I don't have time to go into it now, but suffice it to say, I did not get to bed as early as I had hoped. Having slept in a little this morning and had brunch, I set off on my mission: find the library on the other side of town for its free internet. Adi, the coordinator for my track, had told me about it and that it was near the art museum. Easy enough, right?

The walk was beautiful. I was hot walking in just a long sleeve tshirt. The weather here even with yesterday's rain is still amazing for the end of January. Lots of sunshine and perfect for city exploration. I stopped a few times to take pictures of various graffitti which continues to amuse me. There will be lots of photos to come. There are many political statements in Hebrew as well as stencilled pictures and inspirational words in English such as "Know Hope" and "Follow Your Art." I just love it! "Am Israel Chai" is also another favorite of mine.

Having ventured from the parts of the city I'm most familiar with, walked through Rabin Square, and finally gotten to a busy street with cafes, KFC, and a mall looking entrance I asked the security guard in my lovely heavily accented Hebrew if he knew where the library was. At first he didn't seem to hear me at all. On the third try he finally fully turned to me and without pause asked in Russian where I was actually trying to get. So apparently my accent in Hebrew is not only English but Russian as well. Frankly, I was very surprised that he did not suspect for a second that I would not understand Russian. When I (still surprised but also relieved at not having to explain myself further in Hebrew) told him I needed the library he surprised me again by asking, "Why? There's the internet!" Again caught slightly off guard, I replied, "Yes! I want to use the internet!" Now it was his turn to be surprised that I did not in fact have internet at home. Having completed this whole slightly silly exchange, he informed me that there was a book store inside the mall but no library and that he worked in this area and knew of no libraries.

Frustrated, I wandered away and decided to explore the area on my own. At worst, it was a new part of town with some interesting architecture. I had come too far to pay for coffee just to use the internet! (Just about all cafes here have free wi-fi.) Soon I spotted a building which looked like a theater and decided to check it out. Having found my way to kind of courtyard behind it, I stopped to rest. A laptop gets heavy after long enough! I kept thinking, "So this is what all of those hikes were training us for!" Some more poking around and I found myself in fact in the back of a building which called itself in plain English lettering: Library. Success!

I walked around the building until I found the entrance, happily sat down in their computer room, turned on my computer... and spent fifteen minutes trying to figure out why although my computer said the internet connection was good I could not actually access any pages. Giving in, I asked one of the people at the help desk. Now on the whole I find Israel to be an ingenious country where deserts bloom and the impossible is brought into being. However, charging 5 shekels per half an hour of internet use at a public library may be some of the worst logic I have seen put into effect here!

So after all that, I packed up my things and like a true budget conscious student went BACK to the cafe where I can buy a cup of coffee for 10 shekels and sit for hours. I mean come on! There's even coffee in the deal! And we all know how I feel about coffee! But before I could sit down to blog, I ran into my new friend the security guard who was apparently done with his shift and somehow not surprised when I told him I had in fact found the library. We chatted for a bit. Turns out he moved here recently from the States as well. I tried to explain I was here with a program, but he still went on to ask if I was here with my family or alone. I said again I was here with a group. And again he asked, so not with a husband or children? At this I laughed and made a face. When he started telling me I should get married while here, I said no no, it's not time! and all but ran away. The end.

Words coming soon...

Tel Aviv... first album of many

Southern Tiyul Photos

Southern Tiyul

Southern Tiyul Day 2

Southern Tiyul Day 3

First Tiyul Photos

For those of you who haven't seen these...

First Tiyul

Kibbutz Ketura from November

Kibbutz Ketura