My Year In Israel

Our Apartment

2009-04-19T15:03:00.000-07:00

Pictures of our apartment: www.flickr.com/photos/allikat32

Purim is a Weird Holiday

2009-03-11T02:13:00.000-07:00

Purim is a very weird holiday. And Jerusalem is, as I'm sure you've gleaned this already, a very weird city. It has been a strange week.

First, the basics: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purim

I grew up in a Jewish home. I knew this story. Oh wait! No I didn't. I didn't know that Megillat Esther (Purim book) says that Haman is the distant descendant of Amelik, who has a pretty nasty track record in the Tanakh (Bible) for killing Jews when they're at their weakest. I hadn't thought at all about the intense connection between the story of Purim and the Holocaust. And I definitely didn't know that Purim was celebrated on a different day in Jerusalem than the rest of the world!

You must be thinking, "Wait. You mean Purim is celebrated in Israel on a different day. Right?" Nope! While Tel Avivians (that is, people from the city of Tel Aviv) were parading the streets on the 14th day of Adar (this year March 10) clad in costumes, Jerusalemites were waiting patiently (or traveling to Tel Aviv for the festivities) for their day to come. In Jerusalem, Purim is celebrated on the 15th day of Adar (this year March 11).

"But why?" you ask. Because one time we had a wall!

At the end of the story (the part no ones likes to remember) the King gives Esther permission to send out a decree to all the Jews allowing them to fight back against those who were going to kill them. They kill thousands of people and it says that the Jews fought on the 13th day of Adar and celebrated their victory on the 14th. But the Jews in the walled town of Shushan fought for two days and celebrated on the 15th day.

So the Jews in Shushan (Iran) celebrate Purim a day later. No, you're not wrong. I'm not living in Iran. But the rabbis were concerned about honoring the city of Shushan more than Jerusalem. So even though at the "time" of Esther, the city of Jerusalem was in ruins, because once (in the time of Joshua) Jerusalem was a walled city, they decided to include it. Of course, to make things more complicated, during the time of Joshua when Jerusalem was a walled city, Shushan wasn't. Crazy rabbis.

So while the rest of the country (except a few other possibly walled cities which we won't get into right now) was winding down its Purim festivities, Max and I trekked over to a drag show to kick off our Jerusalemite Purim. The drag show was NOT funny, but Purim hasn't been a total bust. Here are the highlights:

- Seeing a donkey walking down the street.
- Conversing with Elliot-as-Sarah-Palin who wouldn't break character (even when the confused Israeli bar tender couldn't understand him/her)!
- Having my cheeks pinched by Mara's fiance Josh-as-a-charedi(religious Jewish)-woman.
- Letting the Purim spirit take control and climbing aboard the stage during the drag show to move a huge vase that was blocking my view!

We're heading to a big Purim shin-dig this afternoon and I have to do Elliot make-up.

Chag sameach! (Happy holiday!)

You're 22 and you live ... in Jerusalem

2009-01-24T01:27:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't written anything in a while. Which probably seemed rather ironic considering that all eyes were on Israel for the last few weeks. But it wasn't ironic at all. Nothing in the last few weeks has really changed in my life. I'm safe and, despite feeling more nervous in crowded areas, Jerusalem has felt more or less the same. But every time I opened www.blogger.com to write, I found myself crippled my confusion and unable to find words to describe the experience of being in Israel during a war. And so, the updates about all of the exciting non-war aspects of my life were sacrificed, because it felt strange to write about them as if nothing else was new.

Don't get too excited. I still really don't have the words. The words to describe how war leaves no room for wishy-washy political views. How defining "my Zionism" began to feel like an imperative. How much I've thought and read about what it's like to send your 18-year-old boy into war; to decide that the State of Israel and what it stands for and what it does is something you believe in enough to do raise your children here. How scary it felt to ride a bus, but not even comparable to the faces in the photographs of the Palestinian women who see death all around them. How conscious I became of the peacenik-y "war is bad" view that I was raised with, and how to reconcile that with Israel - and reality. How much I've thought about the dozens of Israelis who made yerida (moved away from Israel - the opposite of aaliyah) and became my Jewish teachers, mentors, role models in my reform synagogue in my small corner of the United States. How different Judaism is to Americans and to Israelis. How little I know about my own religion and how little I know about what I want from it in my life. How strange it was to have dinner at my teacher's home last night, and look at from his balcony at the sea of green lights that shine from the tops of mosques in the West Bank, just over the hill.

In the last week, I would have written about a new class at Pardes on Spirituality that I'm taking and how difficult it is not to fall asleep during meditating. That my friend Greta is now in Israel, and how happy I am to have her here. That I had a lovely dinner last week at my friend Dena's house and pulled off an amazing veggie lasagna. How much fun it was to have lunch with old camp friends and gossip about who will return. That we have a new President and, despite missing America, how fun our inauguration pizza party was! That I heard a famous jazz saxophonist, painted a floor, and learned about the art of Storahtelling on our Dorot seminar "What is Jewish Art?" That I received a 30 page packet detailing how my friends and fellow Dorot Fellows and classmates and employers and professors rate my emotional intelligence. Well, that one will probably have to be explained in detail later.

For now let me say that I am safe and, despite being confused by Israel and, in the most quintessentially "Avenue Q" kind of way, about being 22, I am happy. And that www.kayak.com says that you can buy a round trip ticket to Israel for only $800. So if you happen to have $800 lying around (yeah right!) come visit me because it's getting warmer in Israel now and I just found a delicious pizza restaurant in Jerusalem and it would force me to clean my apartment.

Meatballs, cribbage, and goodbyes

2009-01-11T08:02:00.000-08:00

Friday afternoon was a whirlwind of tidying and sweeping and washing. And, unfortunately, the much procrastinated beginnings of the search for a plan for next year.

We invited Darja and Yishai (neighbors) to join us for Shabbat dinner, which Max and I planned to cook for his family. Max's mom and sister: wine and challah. Darja and Yishai: side dish and dessert. Max and I: spaghetti and "meat"balls and a salad (which had a remarkable resemblance to the salad at Olive Garden, if you don't mind my bragging).

Dinner was delicious and a lot of fun. Although, when I offered to make french toast out of the leftover challah, Yishai said he'd bring the hummus. I didn't end up making french toast, so whether or not he was kidding is still up for debate.

The next morning Max and I were supposed to meet Max's family at the Islamic Art Museum, but, luckily, I checked the website and discovered (at about 1:30 pm) that it closes at 2. After an unexpected refrigerator incident (a lot of water was involved) we walked down to Emek Refaim to meet Beth and Robin for tea and cribbage - a rather confusing, but very fun, card game. We switched to Spades briefly and then left to meet Michal Kabatznik (camp friend) for dinner at Luciana's - a very nice Italian restaurant. When Max and I got home, we got to talk to Sammy ... and Mike and Ben and Alyssa and Navah and Greta and Daniel on Skype!

Max had to work this morning, but I was free to meet Robin for breakfast and spend some time hearing stories about Max's annoying big brother days. And then Beth and Robin left, and I did dishes and more job hunting and some homework and signed up for more ulpan and made granola. And missed home.

I got off the bus

2009-01-09T07:23:00.000-08:00

Last Wednesday I got off the bus.

I had a lesson with Noam at the Hartman Institute at 10:45 am and then a Hebrew lesson with Sharon at 1. At 2:15 pm, I boarded a bus headed for downtown and settled into a nice backward facing window seat.

The bus drove down Emek Refaim. I started thinking about the situation in Gaza. About how scary it must be to be a civilian in Sderot - to wake up every morning with the fear that a missile might come through your kitchen window. How terrifying it must be to be a civilian in Gaza - to not be able to sleep out of fear for the lives of your family and friends. How horrifying it must be to be an Israeli soldier - to be an 18-year-old boy who has been ordered to perpetuate violence and fear.

The bus turned onto Keren Hayesod. I started thinking about times that violence has escalated in Israel. About riots in the streets. About stone throwing in the Old City. About burning restaurants. About suicide bombers.

The bus continued onto King George. I started to think about how many Palestinians must have woken up fearful and angry, rightfully in many cases, this morning. About what fear and anger make people do. About how many people whose faces and bodies I couldn't see were on that bus. And I got off.

I stood at the bus stop and watched the bus drive down the street. I watched it until it became very small in the distance and had already passed my stop. And I started to walk home, feeling silly and embarrassed and confused.

But I think what I really felt was Israeli. I was so viscerally conscious at the moment when I reached up and pressed the STOP button, 3 stops before mine, what it might be like to be an Israeli citizen and live in fear everyday of a terrorist attack.

In the days since I have tried to get the root of the confusion that this incident has caused for me. Confusion about what kind of fear and violence warrants war. About what kind of injustices make people feel that terrorism is the only viable option. About what right people who don't live in Israel or the Palestinian territories have to think they understand this situation.

Or maybe, how necessary it is for those people whose vision isn't clouded by fear, to get involved.

Politics of Archaeology

2009-01-09T04:34:00.000-08:00

After what felt like much more than 3 weeks since we last met, the Dorot gang once again convened early Thursday morning for our first seminar since before Budapest. This time, for the Politics of Archaeology seminar that I, and my partner Rebecca, planned.

We met at the Jerusalem Inter-Cultural Center, a small building very close to the Old City, for breakfast (provided by yours truly) and lots of catching up. We sat down at 9 to talk about the readings Rebecca and I had sent out, which covered the complexity of archaeology in Israel which is tied with politics and the never ending fight to establish the legitimacy of the Jewish State.

At 9:30, we were joined by Danny Seidman, a well-known lawyer who specializes in property rights, especially with Palestinian clients. For someone who claimed to know very little about archaeology, he was very knowledgeable and provided the perfect introduction to the day. He got especially riled up when talking about the Museum of Tolerance, a controversy with which I was already familiar, but now feel compelled to share.

The Los Angeles Weisenthal Center is in the process of constructing a Museum of Tolerance in Jerusalem, to promote the unity and respect among Jews and between people of all faiths. The museum, however, is currently being constructed on top of a very prominent Muslim graveyard. Many friends of the prophet Mohamed are said to be buried there as well as family members of Muslims currently living in Israel and the Palestinian territories. The Israeli Antiquities Authority has said that it is impossible to avoid building over graveyard in the State of Israel, as there are more ancient artifacts per capita than almost any part of the world. But, as far as I can tell, there is a real difference here. This is not a piece of land that happens to have an ancient civilization's remains underneath. This is a clearly marked, recently used, burial site. I wish I could urge people to do something to stop this injustice, but as the upheaval of the graves and the construction of the Tolerance Museum is already underway, all I can ask is to think twice before paying their entrance fee.

We left the JICC for the afternoon, and headed toward "Ir David." Ir David (the City of David) is believed to be the place of biblical Jerusalem, where King David established the unified capital of the tribes of Israel. Ir David has been a tourist attraction since the early 1990s, and has gained increasing success in the last 5 years. The tours, however, are being given by Elad, a right-wing settler organization that was sub-contracted by the State Parks Authority.

Our very lovely tour guide showed up a 3-D movie about the City of David, which told the story of the capturing of the Old City from the Jebusites by King David's army. The movie's special effects were impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the not-so-subtle propaganda the movie puts forth. Most horrifically, the movie boasted that now that Jews have resettled the City of David, there are children playing in the place where it all began. Somehow they forgot to mention that the famed City of David is where the Palestinian village of Silwan sits today.

The tour took us around many of the sites of the archaeological sites. Many of the archaeological finds were very impressive. Recently, for example, coins were uncovered which have the names of characters from the Bible, during the First Temple period. We saw the tunnels that were dug to provide the Old City with impenetrable access to water, in the case of a siege. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we missing a big part of the story: the other layers of archaeological evidence from the eras prior to and after those of interest to Jewish history, the Palestinian town surrounding Ir David on all sides, the increasing Jewish population in the village of Silwan.

After a quick falafel lunch, we hurried back to Ir David to meet Yoni Mizrahi, an archaeologist who leads "alternative" tours of Ancient Jerusalem. He believes firmly that archaeology has no place trying to prove the Bible, and that archaeology should not be used as a political tool. He advocates strongly for the residents of Silwan, many of whom have been uprooted from their homes by Elad, the very organization that runs the tours of the City of David. His tour was in no ways unbiased, but he provided us with a much greater scope of the story of ancient Jerusalem and the current political situation surrounding the area. We even got to speak briefly with Jawad, a resident of Silwan, who confidently epoused his belief that the best, if not only, way to truly support Israel as a Jew is to be critical of it when the situation warrants.

We headed back to the JICC for our final speaker, Jon Seligman from the Israel Antiquities Authority. He was intelligent and could hold his own, but only confused me further about the bureaucracy underlying this situation and to to hold responsible.

After Jon Seligman left, we brought out the cookies to keep everyone awake during the debriefing. The conversation turned quickly from archaeology to the importance of hearing multiple narratives and about the need to change Israeli education in North America.

Something to think about ...

To Haifa We Go

2009-01-06T13:35:00.000-08:00

Saturday afternoon involved much bumming around and not much else. By the time Max and I finally decided to face the cold, it was nearing dinner time. We headed out to Aroma Cafe on Hillel St. where I ran into Elliot Greenwald (friend from UNC) and his cousin. They graciously made room for Max and I at their table (Aroma was hopping) where we waited for Max's family (Mom and sister) to arrive.

When they did, we headed over to Tmol Shilshom (a personal favorite) for dinner. Their sweet potato soup is not as good as the Village Green (another Jerusalem favorite) but definitely a winner.

Sunday, the Socols and I took a stroll around the shuk and then ventured into the Old City. We made our way very slowly (lots of shopping) to the Kotel, so Max's mom could put her congregations letters in the Western Wall. After finding the Old City surprisingly normal, considering the current political situation in Israel, we decided it was safe to eat lunch in the Muslim Quarter at Max's favorite hummus joint. The hummus was, as usual, stellar, and we rounded out the meal with some sahlab (Arab puddingly-drink).

On Monday, after my Hebrew lesson with Sharon, Max's family invited me to join them on their trip to Haifa. They were originally planning on going to Eilat and then to Petra, but they later decided Haifa was the safer choice.

By the time we arrived in Haifa it was after dark. We checked in at a hostel on the outskirts of the city, wandered aimlessly downtown for a bit, and finally settled on a nice restaurant for dinner. When we arrived back at the hostel, we were befriended by a motherless kitten who was our source of entertainment for the night.

We woke at an unusually early hour this morning to get an early start on our adventure to the Bahai Gardens, which are (accurately I think) described by many to be the 8th wonder of the world. The dome in the middle of the 19 terraces of gardens houses the remains of the Bab, the teacher of the founder of the Bahai faith. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bah%C3%A1%27%C3%AD_Faith) The gardens are absolutely stunning!

After our tour of the Gardens and an informational video, we meandered over to the cave of Elijah the Prophet which was, to be honest, pretty disappointing. After wandering aimlessly (again), we finally found a cute restaurant with a beautiful view of the Bahai Gardens where we had a late lunch.

Robin (Max's sister) is studying Arabic at Tufts, and so we decided to head to Wadi Nisnas (an area of Haifa more populated with Arabs) to find her a book of poetry. We found not only that but the most delicious smelling spice store where I bought a mix to make my very own sahlab at home.

We took the bus to the beach, where we wandered along the rocky shore as the sun set over the Mediterranean. A little intoxicated with the beauty of Haifa, we decided to take the funicular (yes! another one!) from the beach (bottom of the mountain) to the Stella Maris monastery (very top of the mountain). It was an absolutely terrifying - but exhilarating - ride!

After a quick stop into the monastery, and an even quicker one to buy some rugelach, we headed back to the hostel where I grabbed my bags and caught a bus back to Jerualem, leaving Max and his family behind in Haifa until tomorrow.

Quote of the Day

2009-01-03T04:54:00.000-08:00

"I'd rather face a dozen men with chains in an alley than deal with the bureaucracy of the state of Florida."
-Master Legend, Real Life Superhero

http://www.rollingstone.com/rockdaily/index.php/2008/12/29/men-in-tights-meet-the-real-life-superheroes/

Guaranteed to Warm

2009-01-02T06:54:00.000-08:00

For those of you in cold places (or those of you in Florida wanting to pretend), here is the recipe for the the vin chaud (hot mulled wine) I've been making here:

1 bottle wine (red or white and you can buy cheaper stuff)
2 cups water
1/2 cup sugar (or to taste)
1 orange, sliced with peel
1/2 lemon, sliced with peel
4 cinnamon sticks
tsp cloves

Boil water. Mix in all ingredients except the wine. Let simmer for 15 minutes. Pour in wine but do not let it boil! Serve when hot.

Good 'ol Jerualem

2009-01-01T10:02:00.000-08:00

Highlights since returning to the Holy Land:

Wednesday, December 24: I climbed into bed at 5:45 am. Slept all day. Made mulled wine, and went to a Christmas party at my neighbor's friends.

Thursday, December 25: Met Rachel Braden (who's here with her family) at the Central Bus Station. Walked to Cafe Hillel for hot chocolate and then to a bar for beer (Rachel) and apple cider (me). It's cold here. Hot beverages are a must.

Friday, December 26: Slept in. Took a really long bus ride to Tiberias. Checked into the Tiberias Hostel. Saw Samantha Stiles (and company) who is here on Birthright!!! Ate baklava and drank wine at a restaurant on the water with Max.

Saturday, December 27: Walked up the hill to the King Solomon Hotel to see Sammy again! Got free breakfast. Walked around the hotel. (They keep Birthright participants on an incredibly short leash. She wasn't allowed to leave the premises.) Found the hotel's pool and wandered around in there (it was drained.) Ate a free lunch. Found out Israel had attacked Gaza. Got on another bus to Kiryat Bialek, and successfully found Max's family's house.

Sunday, December 28: Woke up feeling warmer than I have felt in a long time. Took a walk around Kiryat Bialek. Bought socks. Ate lunch. Met up with Rachel Kriegsman (camp friend) and drove to Tzippori to visit Mika. (Actually, we were driven to Tzippori by Abdullah, who works for Max's family.) Had a picnic on a hilltop with Mika and other Ramahniks. Hung around the magical wonderful that is Mika's house. Ate dinner with her family. Watched Harry Potter.

Monday, December 29: Caught early bus back to Jerusalem.

Life resumed to its usual pace of Hebrew lessons, learning with Noam, asking people to fill out surveys about my emotional intelligence, planning an archaeology seminar, etc.

Goodbye Paris, Hello Jerursalem!

2008-12-23T02:51:00.000-08:00

We had planned to visit the Musee d'Orsay again, to fill our last morning in Paris. But when we discovered the Monet Museum, there was no contest!

The Monet Museum was so incredible it almost moved me to tears.

I never did find the painting that hangs in my room, but the other hundred we saw were just as spectacular.

Back at the apartment, I packed up my bags, walked to the Metro, caused quite a scene with my waterworks, and kissed my Mommy goodbye.

A metro ride, a train ride, a lot of wandering, a lot of waiting (and a glass of wine) ... and then I boarded my plane.

I had a brief layover in Budapest before finally landing in Tel Aviv. It was almost 6 am by the time I crawled into bed in Jerusalem.

Paris: Day 4

2008-12-22T02:34:00.000-08:00

We finally figured out the mystery of our late waking. In Paris in the Winter, it doesn't even begin to get light outside until 8:30 am! But on our last full day in Paris, we pulled ourselves out of bed in the dark and got an early start to the day.

We took the Metro to Montmartre. Instead of climbing the steps to the Sacre-Coeur, we took the Funiculaire (kind of like a ski-lift.)

We had what would have been a lovely view of the entire city, if it hadn't been for the overcast weather. But the Sacre-Coeur was beautiful - inside and out!

We took a stroll through Montmartre, which in the spring is supposed to have magnificent gardens and ivy-covered walls. We didn't see any of that, but did stumble upon a restaurant that definitely warranted a picture.

We found the cute but touristy place du Tertre, where we visited the Espace de Salvador Dali. Mom loves Dali and the museum was amazing!

Mom loved Dali's sculptures of the Venus de Milo and I loved his women with drawers. We also found his painting and sculptures of Alice in Wonderful and of the 12 Tribes of Israel fascinating!

We treated ourselves to crepes and soup for lunch and headed back to downtown Paris, where we visited the Eiffel Tower ...

... and waited for its hourly show.

We returned home to light our Hanukkiah again.

Paris: Day 3

2008-12-21T02:18:00.000-08:00

By Day 3 we had a routine. Difficulty waking up. Aching calves. Showers. Breakfast in the room.

We took the Metro to the Bastille market. We bought two fresh pairs and some pastires, but the trip was most valuable for the ... sights.

We walked several blocks to le Marais, the Jewish quarter of Paris. Before World War II, Le Marais had a vibrant Jewish population. It is still known for its Jewish history ... and for its gay life and great shopping. With the help of a map. we found the Musee d'art et d'histoire du Judaisme (Jewish History Museum). The museum was targeted to a less knowledgeable audience, but we found many interesting things ... the Jewish tombstones dating back to 13th century France, personal narratives and photos of contemporary French Jews, and a painting of a young Sephardic Jewish girl that looked eerily like me!

After the museum, we found Rue de Rosiers, the only remaining section of the Jewish quarter. There were Jewish delis and Judaica stores and falafel shops everywhere! My brain felt like it was going to explode with all the Hebrew and French whizzing around. We had borekas and latkes at a Jewish deli called Sasha Finkelsztajn.

And then I used my Hebrew skills to chat up a French Chabad rabbi and get a free Hanukkiah (menorah)!

Needing a break from the liveliness of the Jewish quarter, we stopped in to the Carnavalet Museum, where we saw the rooms and salons of King Louis XV and XVI and Marcel Proust's bedroom. (Max loved that!)

We ate our pears as we made our way to the Metro. We stopped at the Opera House.

We recharged with a little dinner at a nearby cafe and headed back to our apartment to light the Hanukkah candles.

Paris: Day 2

2008-12-20T13:07:00.000-08:00

We had no more luck waking up than the day before. But Paris was calling us, so we ate a quick breakfast in the room and headed out for the day.

As we were heading to the Metro, we saw a Farmer's Market and took a little detour. The market was incredible. Fresh fruits and vegetables, delicious cheese, hot and flaky pastries, flowers everywhere. I could have done without all the dead rabbits, however! We bought orange blossom bread, fresh cheese, and olives, and, with our picnic in hand, abandoned the metro and walked to the Eiffel Tower.

We ate our lunch on a picnic bench on the green field in front of the Eiffel Tower, watching children play and dogs run and tourists stage cheesy pictures in front of the famous landmark. Not that we didn't join them.

We convinced a young British couple to take a few pictures of both of us, and in return got to hear the story of how he just proposed to her on the top of the Eiffel Tower!

We took the Metro to Notre Dame, where we sat inside, marveling at the architecture and the stained class windows.

I had some fun with Charlemagne ...

... and the Notre Dame pigeons.

From Notre-Dame we walked the (much longer than we thought) distance to the Musee D'Orsay. I know the Louvre is Paris' beloved museum, but I loved the Musee D'Orsay. Built in a restored train station, it's so much more intimate than the Louvre. Plus ... I feel even more in love with Impressionism than before. I couldn't believe how powerful it was to see, in person, Monet's painting of Giverny (so different than the poster than hangs above my bed at home in Florida) and Degas' dancers and Renoir's Bal du moulin de la Galette.

Following the flawless instructions of "the Bible" (aka the Dummies Guide to Paris) we went in search of the vegetarian restaurant Grenier de Notre-Dame. We had pumpkin soup, vegetarian lasagna, and tiramisu (all with a side of flirtation from our 40-year-old Tunisian waiter Amar who asked if I would stay in Paris please.)

We decided against a night time cruise of the Seine (I got my dislike of boats from my mother) and wandered a bit downtown before returning home for some homemade vin chaud (hot wine) and making plans for tomorrow.

Paris: Day 1

2008-12-19T11:14:00.000-08:00

It was 12 hours door to door from Budapest to Paris. My Mom had flown across an ocean. It was no surprise that we had a little trouble dragging ourselves out of bed on our first day in Paris.

Our apartment, I discovered in the day light, was located in an adorable part of the 7th arrondisement. We went downstairs to buy some groceries, had breakfast in the room, and set off to begin our Mother-Daughter Parisian Adventure.

We took the metro to the Arc de Triomphe and climbed the 284 stairs to the top for a breathtaking view of the city of Paris.

We walked down the Champs-Elysees ...

.. and ate a panini at a cute cafe.

We stumbled upon a Christmas Fair, where I was able to get Max a snow globe I promised him without having to spend 10 euros on a piece of plastic.

We took a detour to see the Grand and Petit Palais ...

... and made our way through the rest of the Christmas fair (with a brief stop for vin chaud i.e. hot mulled wine).

The Champs-Elysees brought us to the place de la Concorde, where we saw the Egyptian Obelisk, given by the Egyptian government in the 19th century.

Also at the place de la Concorde, was the Wheel of Excellence and beautiful fountains which I had a certain affinity for.

We walked through the (rather barren) Jardin de Tuileries ... and then on to the Louvre!

On Friday evenings, people under 26 get into the Louvre for free which made the whole thing even better. Walking up to the Louvre felt a little like a dream. The museum is absolutely incredible, but seriously overwhelming. We saw the Mona Lisa, the Winged Victory, the Venus de Milo, and hundreds of other amazing works of art.

My Mom and I also carried out "research" for our hypothetical book entitled "Butts of the Louvre."

Goodbye Budapest, Hello Paris!

2008-12-18T09:22:00.000-08:00

Our last morning in Budapest. Several of the Dorot ladies went to "the baths." I slept in, entertained Naamah and Alex while they packed, and went to lunch at a cute cafe which served us some delicious pumpkin soup.

We met the rest of the group at a cafe, where we "processed." I think we were all feeling many of the same things. A renewed interest in the Holocaust. Confused about Diaspora Jewry, excited about Budapest, scared about the growing anti-Semitism in Eastern Europe.

And that was that. We boarded a little bus that took us to the airport. We were there very, very early so Kate, Shoshana, and I entertained ourselves with Scrabble-type games.

And then I was off to Paris!

I arrived in the Charles de Gaulle Airport later than expected. I found my luggage and then a payphone where I called the company with which I had reserved a shuttle.

It rang and rang. I called and called. Finally, I accepted the fact that despite having paid 30 euros (which was later refunded to me) I would have to find an alternative mode of transportation.

It took a while but finally I figured out that I could take the Roissy bus from the airport to the Opera, where I could catch a cab to the apartment Mom and I had rented. The bus ride was smooth, but when I arrived at the Opera house I couldn't hail a cab!

They kept whizzing past me like I was invisible. Finally, I saw a sign across the street. TAXIS. I reasoned that people in Paris wait in line for taxis and crossed the street. I saw Jake and Shoshana waiting in line too and waved excitedly, glad to see familiar faces. My excitement dwindled quickly as 20, 30, 40 minutes passed without the line getting much shorter. More than an hour later, I finally got in a cab, climbed the 5 flights (84 steps) up, threw my arms around my Mommy, and collapsed into bed.

Budapest: Day 4

2008-12-17T08:59:00.000-08:00

By our 4th day in Budapest, I'd decided that if I 1) spoke Hungarian or 2) had actually mastered other language and had the ability to acquire another one I would totally move to Budapest for 6 months.

My love for the city persisted, despite the dreary weather that greeted us as we left the hotel.

We drove to the Lauder Jewish Day School, which is by many measures a miracle. The Jewish population in Budapest was destroyed by the Holocaust. Yet, on the outskirts of the city is a school which enrolls 100s of young Jewish students.

The school itself was beautiful, and the principal was brilliant and inspired and passionate. I was really taken about by the spirit of the school, which defied all our preconceptions about post-Holocaust Eastern Europe. We were treated to lunch in the cafeteria, although I ate very little of the deep-fried mushrooms, creamed spinach, and french fries.

Our next stop was the JCC. I remember very little of this part of the day outside of struggling to stay awake. At Siraly (pronounced Seer-eye), however, I was much more awake, thanks to Siraly's amazing story and their delicious hot cocoa. Siraly (side note: Siraly (Seer-eye) is on a street called Kiraly (Keer-eye)) is a restaurant, performance space, meeting place for young Jews (and non-Jews)in Budapest. The synagogues and other organized Jewish settings in Budapest are very much dominated by a 60+ crowd, and Siraly was a response to the younger generations desire to connect to Judaism in a new way. Very cool.

That evening, we were all invited to Tamas Halasz's (artist and critic in Budapest and friend of Neils') apartment for a party. There was delicious cheese and chocolate, a birthday cake for Neil, and lots and lots of wine. Mid-way through the evening I realized that all the Dorot Fellows were hilariously drunk. I think I missed the memo.

Budapest: Day 3

2008-12-16T05:15:00.000-08:00

Our first stop on our third day in Budapest was the Danube, where there is a Holocaust memorial. The memorial is dozens of iron-casted shoes, to represent the thousands of Hungarian Jews who were shot into the Danube during the Second World War.

We maintained a Holocaust theme for the morning, and trekked to the new Holocaust Memorial Center. After an hour or two in the museum, we met with Gabrielle, an employee of Judapest (a grass roots online community aiming to uncover the stimulating, the relevent, and the cool in the Hungarian Jewish experience) who spoke about Contemporary Anti-Semitism in Hungary.

We ate lunch at one of the few kosher restaurants in the city, and heard from Mirca Chernov, who works for Chaver, an organization which organizes and conducts open discussions and lectures to fight prejudice and misconceptions about Jews and Judaism.

I took a brief nap, before going with Dorot to an authentically Hungarian modern dance performance. It was powerful, emotional, beautiful, and - oh, did I forget to mention? - very naked.

We grabbed a late dinner at a cafe before crashing for the night.

Budapest: Day 2

2008-12-15T05:01:00.000-08:00

Budapest, Day 2, began bright and early with breakfast at the hotel and a brisk walk to Central European University, where we met Professor Michael Miller. Professor Miller gave a fantastic Introduction to Budapest Jewry (and may have successfully convinced several fellows to pursue graduate studies in Eastern European Jewry at CEU.)

Agi led us on a walking tour of Budapest's Jewish Quarter, including the famous Dohan synagogue and its small Holocaust museum.

We were treated to a surprisingly delicious lunch at the Chabad Yeshiva in Budapest and a lovely story. (Cliff Notes version: A man leaves his wife and two children in search of a job. His boat capsizes because of a bad storm, and he washes on the shore of an island. When he awakes, he discovers that on the shore of this island are thousands of diamonds. He shoves a few into his pockets, and goes in search of food. At the store, he is told that diamonds are of no use to the people on this island. Their currency is fish. The man spends days learning to catch fish, and is finally able to start a life on this island. He becomes very successfull, until he has the most fish on the whole island. He builds a boat and gathers a crew, to sail him back to his family. When he arrives back home, the whole town has gathered to greet him. But at the smell of all the fish aboard the boat, they turn and flee. Only his wife and children remain. He hugs them each and explains that they should worry no more! They are rich with fish! He sees his wife's face, slowly begins to remember that fish mean nothing outside of that little island, and faints. In his pockets, his wife finds the few diamonds he had stuffed in their the first day. It is just enough to repay their debts, but it will certainly not make them rich. Because the value of money is relative, and we must remember what is truly valuable in life.)

Very contrary to the theme of the rest of the week, Elliot took me to Budapest's big Christmas Fair, where I drank hot wine, tasted roasted chestnuts, and bought very warm socks for my Floridian-born toes.

Budapest: Day 1

2008-12-14T04:13:00.000-08:00

My European adventure began at 1 am - when the word ad-ven-ture was 2 syllables longer than any of the words I could manage to grunt.

I stood in front of Shalom Falafel at 1:45 am, waiting for my sherut (shared taxi) marveling at fact that the smell of falafel still lingered in the air and struggling to keep my eyes open.

At 6 am, after I had successfully 1) not gotten car sick on the way to the airport, 2) convinced the Israeli security officer that I was not a terrorist, and 3) not fallen asleep, my plane took off for Budapest. (I, of course, was fast asleep before we'd even reached our cruising altitude.)

We arrived in Budapest to freezing cold weather and the harsh sounds of Hungarian. Alex, Naamah, Yoshi, and I found an adorable cafe where I ordered lentil soup ("no meat? this soup has no meat"?) only to discover chunks of sausage floating around in it. We met the rest of the group at noon at the hotel (although I was 5 minutes late due to a necessary yogurt purchase at the nearby grocery store.)

We took a tour of Budapest with our tour guide/educator Agi, where all my anger about meaty-soup and qualms about Hungarian disappeared as I fell quickly in love with the city. Budapest is stunningly beautiful, comfortable and accessibly, lovingly worn.

That night, a big group of us went to a not-so-authentic but definitely tasty Indian restaurant, and played cards and drank hot chocolate at an underground (as in basement level) bar/cafe.

I'm off to Budapest!

2008-12-13T02:06:00.001-08:00

Worthwhile highlights:

Monday: Max was famous. Hebrew lesson with Sharon. Story time at JELLY. Read 2 Eric Carle books, The Little House, and an Alfie book (though not the one where he wears the red rain boots.) Dinner with Navah. Got very lost on the bus.

Tuesday: Booked archaeologists. Failed shopping adventure. Got very lost in Talpiot. Tea and cookies with Isra.

Wednesday: Lots of reading. Meeting with Noam. Hebrew lesson. Bought pants. Tried sahlab (Middle Eastern drink) for the first time at Tmol Shilshom with Jen. Soup at Marakia with Kate and Max.

Thursday: Max was extra famous (article on the front page of the Post!) Dorot Day: Hebrew as a Biblical and Modern Language. Thought a lot about how speaking Hebrew helps shape the Zionist myth. Ordered a pizza.

Friday: Grocery shopping. Laundry. Tofu fried rice and salad (with homemade ginger dressing!) for dinner. 3 episodes of the Wire.

Today: Slept it. Plans for lunch (and maybe more sahlab) in East Jerusalem with Max. Packing.

1:00 am tonight: Sherut will pick me and take me the airport where I will board a plane headed for Budapest. 5 days in Budapest with Dorot. 5 in Paris with Mommy!

When I get back from my European adventure, I'll have my new computer!

My Boyfriend is Famous

2008-12-08T01:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Max's first day on the job:

http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1227702465388&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull

Goodnight Moon

2008-12-07T10:23:00.000-08:00

Saturday was a sleepy Shabbat. When I first came to Israel, I was frustrated by the nature of Saturdays in Jerusalem. The whole city shuts down, and there's little to do for a cabin-feverish American. I wanted the day to buy groceries or see a movie or take advantage of the museums and monuments that there isn't always time for during the week. But sometime in the last few months, I began to appreciate Saturday here for what they are. Peaceful. Relaxing. Stress-free because you just have to throw up your hands and accept that even if you want to use your day of rest for productivity, you just can't.

Rabbi Havivi, Max's rabbi from his synagogue in Greensboro, invited Max and I to join him and Greensboro's other rabbi (at the Reform Temple) for dinner at the Ticho House. Beit Ticho was one of the first houses built outside of the walls of the Old City. It was purchased by Dr. Ticho and his wife (and cousin ... hmmm) Anna. When they died, they left the house to the city, and it now serves as a museum of Anna's famous paintings, Dr. Ticho's large collection of Hanukkah menorahs, as well as one of the best restaurants in the city. We arrived excitedly at the Ticho House, to discover that we were dining with not only Greensboro Jewish clergy, but its Christian clergy as well. 30 of them. The food was amazing, the group delightful, and the speaker, Rev. Dr. Petra Heldt a little crazy. She works for the Ecumenical Theological Research Fraternity (no I did not make that up). She opened with a lovely story about Shabbat in Israel, moved onto to a powerful retelling of her survival from a terrorist attack, and then all of a sudden was talking way over the heads of the group about Sharia law. I'm a little nervous about what the church sermons in Greensboro, North Carolina are going to sound like next Sunday.

I went to the Jerusalem English Language Library for Youth (henceforth JELLY) today for my first day of volunteering duty. I sat in a chair in the corner with a huge stack of children's books, lovingly repairing loose bindings and torn pages. I'm definitely not saving the world with this volunteer project, but JELLY does good work. They provide English teachers in Jerusalem with class sets of more than 100 Engilsh language titles, because the state just doesn't fund English education well. And it's one of the only places that children can borrow books in English. As amazing and wonderful as the Hebrew language is, we can't pretend that English isn't a necessary skill for the 21st century. And JELLY's doing their part. Deborah, the librarian, asked me to come by tomorrow to help out with Story Hour. Tomorrow, there will be little Israeli children beneath my feet, listening to me read Bread and Jam for Frances, and Just Me and My Sister (the Little Critter book), and The Little House.

Goodnight Moon.

Kiss Me I'm a Vegetarian

2008-12-06T01:45:00.000-08:00

We were supposed to go to the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo. We got up early. We bought bagels for lunch and we waited at the bus stop. And we waited. And waited. Max bought a deck of cards at the shekel-and-a-half store. We played War. Max beat me. We played War again. I won. Still, no bus.

Finally, the 26 pulled up and we hopped on. But at the that point it was already 11:30 and when the bus driver said the route would stop running around 2:30 I knew we would have to get off at the next stop. 2 hours at the zoo (when it costs more than 40 shekels to get in) just wouldn't be enough. We ate our bagels on a little spot of grass on the side of the road and then headed home.

I defrosted the freezer which was, I guess, a plus to the day. It was a 2 hour ordeal and involved a lot of hot water, a bent knife, and the growing feeling that I had to "beat" the ice. I took a lovely afternoon nap before dinner with our neighbor Darja. I made spaghetti and "meat"balls (from a great Israeli brand of frozen vegetarian products) and strawberry salad.

The night ended with an episode of The Wire, a Skype call with my parents, and the promise of fruit shakes and lunch tomorrow from Darja.

The Holy Land through the Eyes of Islam

2008-12-05T04:23:00.000-08:00

Ugh. It was so cold yesterday morning. My alarm went off at 6:15 and I wanted to hurl it across the room. Except my alarm is my cell phone and I'm kind of fond of it.

I had set the solar water heater the night before, so the water would be nice and warm the next morning. Still, it took all my willpower to make my way to the shower. There I stood. Next to the shower. Waiting for the water to warm up. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. I began to realize I was wasting water, so I turned off the shower to investigate my predicament. Someone turned off the timer on the water heater! This whole cold water conundrum threw my morning way out of whack. I ended up leaving 10 minutes later than I should have, with frizzy hair and a bad attitude.

Luckily, the Dorot gang is very understanding of bad mornings. I made it to the Old City just in time to walk with (most of) the group to the first stop of our "The Holy Land through the Eyes of Islam" day: The Dome of the Rock and Al-aqsa Mosque. I say most of because two Dorot Fellows did not join us on this part of the day. The area where the Dome of the Rock is/the Temple Mount/HarHaBayit/Mount Moriah is considered by many Jews to be the holiest site in Judaism. There are many different halachic understandings of what this means for modern Jews (whether we can go at all, whether there are certain things we must do to prepare before going, whether we can go to the area but not up on the raised platform where the Dome of the Rock/Holiest of Holies is).

The Temple Mount is unbelievably beautiful, first and foremost. It's speckled by huge trees and lawns, and I was distinctly aware of a sense of calm about the place. (Although I'm sure that is not the case on Fridays when the place can, and sometimes does, hold more than 300,000 praying Muslims.) And the Dome of the Rock itself is one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. It's huge, with intricate mosaics covering all its (eight?) sides. The top, which is painted with 2 tons of pure gold, shimmers in the light and stands in remarkably stark contrast to, well, everything.

Our tour guide, Nasser Aweidah, gave us a great overview of the history of and current political tensions surrounding this place. I was incredibly grateful for his honesty and willingness to speak bluntly. (Except, perhaps, when he voiced his opinions about women, who, in his opinion, should never lead because 1) they lead with their heart not their mind 2) it takes two women to accurately witness something whereas it only takes one man 3) they are flighty. Of course, he is not representative of all Muslims by any means! And his opinions about women are not specific to Islam. Judaism has very similar things to say.)

I knew, before my visit to the Dome of the Rock, about the political implications of this Holy (to both both religions) space. The Dome of the Rock is the 3rd most holy site to Muslims, where it is believed that Mohammad ascended to heaven. But, the Temple Mount is where the Temple once stood, and, it is believed by many Jews that where the Dome of the Rock sits is the general area where the Holy of Holies, the sacred space in the Temple where only the High Priest could enter, is located. I knew this. But the knowledge was nothing compared to the experience of standing there, on the ground that is holy to two of the world's religions. The knowledge that Palestinians in the West Bank cannot come to this place while I can is powerful, but is nothing compared to the experience of standing beneath the golden dome. I left feeling very confused about the solution to this dual-claim on this sacred space ... and a little hungry.

Conveniently, lunch time was next on our list. We left the Old City and took a bus to the Everest Hotel (which is technically in Israel as well as the West Bank so that both Israelis, who can't visit the West Bank, and Palestinians who can't be in Israel without the proper ID, are legal) in Beit Jala to meet Professor Yussef el-Herimi of Al-Quds University who talked to us about Muslims texts (most the Quran). From there, we went to Abu Ghosh where we were welcomed into the home of Issa Jaber, the director of the Education Department for the Abu Gosh local council, who talked to us about the day-to-day civil life of Muslims in Israel.

When I got home, Max and I went to grab dinner at this delicious vegetarian Indian restaurant in the shuk. And then my 6 am start caught up to me and I fell asleep.