Generation SML

Sometimes Lonely, Sometimes Just Alone

2013-10-02T08:04:00.004-07:00

Of course suitcases belong on top of taxis

Hi Friends! Wanted to pop in and write about Rosh Hashanah which was a few weeks ago. I moved into my new apartment on Wednesday afternoon just a few hours before Rosh Hashanah. The whole day was the kind of exhilarating that you just know will end with a crash- and it did. Moving suitcases from Michal’s place to my beautiful new room, beginning to put clothing into shelves, and not quite knowing my neighborhood at all was a mix of ups and downs. (Thanks to Micah who helped me move them and of course that involved strapping a suitcase to the top of a taxi!) When I went to take out money for rent, Bank of America locked me out for fear that I was committing fraud on myself. While I suppose I’m happy that the security was that good, it all just added to a crazy day of running around and things not going quite right.

Simanim for Rosh Hashanah at the Ozerys

I had worked pretty hard to get myself invited to different meals throughout the three-day yom tov which was especially difficult because I had only been in the country for 6 days and because I didn’t know my kitchen yet so cooking wasn’t an option. The first night almost the entire extended Liben/Shilor/Ozery clan in Israel gathered at the Moshav (where Aunt Shirah and Uncle Menachem are founding members) for a festive Rosh Hashanah meal. Upon return, as I was ready to pass out for the night, I realized that for the first time that I had arrived in Jerusalem I was sleeping in a bed alone. Staying with Michal in her studio apartment meant sharing a bed with her and the physicality of the week of searching for an apartment, moving suitcases, and walking around a new environment had come to a culmination of beginning this literal new year physically alone.

Not the greatest feeling to fall asleep with, and when I woke up with an infection I wasn’t too pleased. Unsure of where to go to shul, I looked at a map trying to navigate shortcuts through my new neighborhood. And then the scariest thought came to me: if I didn’t go to shul today, not a single person would know and not a single person would care. For someone who talks about building community as much as I do, it was a crazy realization that I had none. And in all places in the world, Israel is where I felt most alone on Rosh Hashana because I had no immediate family who wanted to go to shul, no friends who did not have a program to fall back on, and no grounding in the neighborhood that will become my home. Of course, it did not help that in my father’s beautiful Rosh Hashana sermon he confessed to the entire community that he wanted to tell me to stay in America and not go to Israel just yet, but knew it was best to encourage me in times of transitional uncertainty. Yes, I was surrounded by people walking to shul, eating festive meals, and davening at a plethora of synagogues. I was by no means alone like I was that first night in the apartment. But I was profoundly lonely. In a way that I can only think of feeling a few other times in my life.

Right after arriving in the new digs

Of course after three full days of meals, new friends, blisters, and getting lost and lost and lost, life has a funny way of just going on. At the time of this writing, three weeks later, this seems trivial because the majority of my experience has been overwhelmingly positive. But to fully comprehend what it means to make a significant transition in one’s life, or for you as my friends and family to understand what this experience has been like for me, it would be dishonest to not write about those three incredibly difficult days in Jerusalem. They are the foundation on which I have begun to build my new life here; integral to understanding the experiences I have since had.

Welcome to Jerusalem, Part II

2013-09-03T05:30:00.000-07:00

Hello from Jerusalem!

This week began my adventures as a college graduate in a new country, walking the line of the familiar (Jerusalem, English, family) and the unfamiliar (Jerusalem, Hebrew, new people). It’s been a whirlwind of five days and it’s not settling down anytime soon, but I’m trying to enjoy it all, take everything in, and follow wherever my instinct leads me. Sometimes that’s down strange streets that I shouldn’t be walking on, but right now it’s in a wonderful coffee shop with a huge salad that I simply cannot finish and the first wifi I’ve gotten of the trip.

Where am I living? Great question, I’d like to know the answer to that, too. I’ve been staying with my cousin Michal in her studio apartment in the neighborhood of Nachlaot while searching for apartments. Michal is an angel. She is graciously sharing her home, her time, and her friends and I would probably be living on the street if she were not here to have me. Since my arrival on Thursday evening, I’ve seen seven different apartments and am hoping to sign, or at least solidify my placement, by tonight. So I probably will not move in before Rosh Hashanah like I had hoped, but I am doing my best and meeting some really cool people throughout the search. Not to mention some adorable guys who just happen to have my number now.

On Friday the plan was simple; meet with Aunt Shirah, open a bank account, and then continue searching for apartments. But nothing here is simple and after asking Shirah in advance if going to the bank on Friday would be a problem, because Israel has weird laws, we called in advance and then showed up. Just to be told that Americans cannot open bank accounts on Friday because and I quote “Obama made a new law and so we cannot do Americans on Friday.” Thus begins the classic Israel experiences that will continue throughout my “temporary sojourn” here. See, I need an Israeli bank account so that I can write checks for rent and take out money without a bank fee. But of course ALL banks charge fees when you withdraw money from them no matter what (scam city, population every bank in Israel) so the bank was only as pressing as the apartment hunt was successful. Luckily, or not, for me, I had a few days to sort that out. I retuned on Sunday to open the bank account with a woman who opened my Saba and Savta’s accounts for them when they made aliyah (more classic Israel, this time in a good way), and after two hours of simply waiting, and another 90 minutes of broken English, decent Hebrew, and approval from the Tel Aviv office, I now have signed a million papers that seem to say that I have a bank account. This of course is still to be determined as I did not yet receive a bank card, checks, or have any money in the bank. I kind of think that I signed my life away to the Israeli government, but only time will tell.

Some of you have asked me about my safety. I am completely fine and the country is doing great. I suppose the unofficial welcome to Israel has been that I have a gas mask. But we’re all great over here. Jonah, who I saw on Monday when I went to Tel Aviv to help move him in, unfortunately must stay on base for Rosh Hashanah because of what’s going on up north. He blames Syria, I blame the army.... Semantics. In the mean time, life goes on and my quest for the best coffee in Jerusalem continues.

The transition is difficult- it’s hard to be in a limbo-kind-of-vacation-apartment-searching-holiday meal-crashing-not-yet-working period of time, but I’m trying to make it work. Walking around a lot, catching up with friends, and altogether feeling good and healthy.

The good news? I don’t think it will ever get old waking up in the hot Jerusalem sun and feeling the cool breeze at night. I’ll use that as my guide over the next few days as we bring in a new year and hopefully a new apartment.

Shana Tova,

Sara Miriam

My Cousin, Liel

2013-01-03T22:53:00.000-08:00

At a little over 15 years old, my cousin Liel passed away this week. Liel had autism and a heart condition that in many ways defined much her life. She was also diagnosed with epilepsy a few years ago and at school this past week she had a seizure and was not found until at least a few minutes afterwards. By the time she was rushed to the ER, Liel had lost all of her brain function and after time with family she was taken off of life support. Her funeral was held in Jerusalem on Wednesday.

I have very few memories with Liel. It pangs me to say, to write, to admit. It’s upsetting to have such few memories with someone who you are supposed to be so close to. Every time I didn’t see her, or the other kids, in Israel, every time I used the excuse that I would be back, that there would be more time to visit seems trivial now. The truth is that 99.9% of the time there is a later. And there’s no way to predict when that later won’t come. Instead of beating myself up about the lost time, I am eternally grateful for the memory of Liel I have, and I would like to share that memory with you.

In 10th grade I spent a semester abroad in Jerusalem and decided to spend a Shabbat with my cousins Idan, Sapir, and Liel in their home in French Hill. It was a phenomenal Shabbat, one I talked about for months afterwards. These children were beautiful- gorgeous faces and smiles and fresh energy excited to spend time with their cousin form America. My aunt Leora cooked the most delicious chicken, Sapir and I read in English together, and Idan and I stayed up all night playing Connect 4 (which I schooled him in). All the while the three kids fought over who got to sit on the beanbag chair that our Aunt Shirah had gotten for them as a present earlier that month. After Idan went to bed I chatted with my Uncle Mike catching up until I fell asleep. (Every time I see my Uncle Mike he remembers me as the 10th grade girl from that Shabbat, even though I have spent time with him almost every year since). The next morning, the three kids and I continued to play and talk. At some point we realized that Lieli had wandered away and we went to find her. And boy were we not ready for what we found. Liel had taken the beanbag chair to claim as her own, moved it to her room, and subsequently pulled it apart spilling all of the little beans inside of it. Idan, Sapir, and I burst into a fit of laughter when we saw Liel sitting there amidst a sea of white balls. She had claimed her territory, queen of the beanbag chair, and we all jumped into the sea to join her, throwing tiny white balls of beenbag chair-filling at each other. I am convinced that to this day they still find remains of the chair-filling in their house. Aunt Shirah—if you were wondering, that beanbag chair was put to great use by all of us.

When you think of someone who brought so much joy and overcame so many challenges, you wonder, how do you find God in this empty space? In Hebrew, Liel, means “my God.” Liel’s organs have been donated and as of now, four people are going home form the hospital healthier and happier than before. Liel continues to live through those who have her lungs, kidneys, and pancreas. This is one profoundly physical and beautiful way that God is found in our realm.

Now, more than ever, her name seems appropriate. Through her challenges and her enduring smile I know that she taught so many people, as my Uncle Michael wrote, “lessons of acceptance, the need for a prolonged patience, and the value of unconditional love.” Where do we find God? Precisely in these lessons that Liel has taught those around her. By remembering and emulating acceptance, patience, and unconditional love, we testify to Liel and her legacy as an embodiment of God on earth.

May her name be a blessing.

The Pit in Your Stomach

2012-11-14T14:46:00.003-08:00

The pit in your stomach every time there's a rocket fired. Every time there's a random shooting on the border. Every time the Iron Dome intercepts a Ketusha (because what if it didn't). Every time a soldier is abusive at a check point. Every time there's a raid in Ramallah.

The first time I felt that pit, and I mean felt it growing hollow inside of me, was on a Leadership trip to Israel through USY in February 2008, after the Second Lebanon War. My friends and I, 16 selected leaders from the Conservative Movement, went up North and saw destruction from the war two summers earlier. We sat in a bomb shelter and were told stories of civilians running for their lives at the sound of sirens, of evacuating towards the South, of leaving behind your houses and seeking safety. I held a Ketusha rocket which had been fired at the very children's school we sat in in my hands and for the first time understood the literal weight of living under fire.

Holding a Ketusha Rocket, February 2008.
We smile because we have no other way to cope

The next time was in August 2011. Only days after dropping my brother off at the airport, after months of no violence between Gaza and Israel, there were two bombings in the South of Israel. And right there in front of all of my campers as our Rosh Edah (Unit Head) was telling us of the attacks, I started crying. That's when I knew every rocket, every uncertainty on the border, every wrong move from an Israeli teenager given some training and a uniform would make me feel a little different. Afterwards, I felt that pit in a big way in a long night many of us remember last year, October 18, 2011, as I stayed up all night watching the news, reading Twitter, and awaiting Gilad Shalit's return. What does this mean for the future of the soldiers? No one knew. No one knows.

Many of you, however, know that pit. We all feel it in different ways. We make jokes about Ahmed Jabari (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmed_Jabari) being married to 72 virgins on facebook. We post statuses about our political views- no matter what they are, we write that we stand with Israel, we lament the New York Times for a biased article and argue on Twitter with people we've never met. We feel a deep yearning for our brothers and sisters in Israel. We decide today that that's that- "Next year in Jerusalem!" is no longer a saying.

You may be feeling this pit today because death is around us, terrorists and innocent civilians alike. You may be feeling this pit today because your friends are being called up for reserves or your brother's phone is off. It may be that you have experienced having 15 seconds to run into bomb shelters and you feel for the thousands of civilians up all night for that very reason. Or maybe all your friends are saying "No matter what I stand with Israel" and you want to think that, want to believe that, but you pray to God that Israel doesn't mess this up, that we defend our citizens with honor and dignity.

We know a few things. We know Israel has a right to defend itself against 12 years of over 12,000 rockets from Gaza. We feel it in our hearts and our souls and we stand behind that conviction. But sometimes we don't know what this defense means for us, our families, and for the world around us. So remember this: the uncertainty is uniting us. Right now, I feel a need to be with a community of people who understand what attacks on Israel mean in a profound visceral way, knowing that others feel that too. It's a strange and uncomfortable feeling of aloneness and a need to find solidarity in others, if only to reaffirm that, somewhat paradoxically, that very sense of aloneness is felt by others, too. Know that the person next to you in class, across from you at Hillel, and on your Facebook newsfeed is feeling it too. You are not alone, they are not alone. So lend them a supportive hand, engage in productive dialogue, and remember that talking is cathartic- Facebook arguments are not.

With tweets like these, can you blame my pit for growing?

Source and interesting article: http://www.buzzfeed.com/mattbuchanan/how-to-wage-war-on-the-internet

Sometimes it's simple, sometimes we have a clear sense of black and white. But uncertainty is not. It is clear that we have a right, a need, to defend ourselves. But the emotions wrapped up in that need, they aren't so clear.

We must be there for one another, not just on the internet but in person. We must confront our emotions to talk about them, engage with them, and allow them to lead to productive intellectual dialogue about the mixed feelings inside of us. To borrow a slogan from Columbia/Barnard 2011 Peace Week for Israelis and Palestinians, It's complicated, Let's talk about it.

Rocking the Vote

2012-11-06T16:27:00.001-08:00

Was there something to do today?

In case you forgot, you're supposed to vote today. But if you're on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or just walking around in this world then I'm sure you didn't forget. Social media is taking over the day and I've never seen so many statuses and tweets and photos of the same thing over and over again. I wouldn't be surprised if the 2016 elections are counted on Facebook polls or attended through Google Hangouts.

After filling out my absentee ballot! First time voter right here

But it's not such a bad thing. If our generation wants to vote, then I say vote! And share the fact that you voted with your 2,000 closest friends on the internet. Who says that changing your profile picture the day of elections won't get other people out to the polls today?! Here are links to some of my favorite (not-so-political) articles and most entertaining snapshots of updates and tweets I've complied throughout the day. I'm catching the social-media-on-election-day fever and spreading it around to those of you who care enough what I, and my friends, have to say.

Social media has given us tremendous access to information- here's to hoping people's ballots are still counted even if they took pictures of them and posted them on the internet. Let's be real, how would they contest that one, search through all the #voted hashtags on twitter?! And the real question of the night becomes did you vote if you didn't post about it online?

It's a new world, Golde, time to keep up with it. Enjoy the links and selection of election day updates and tweets. All private names and pictures have been protected.

That's one way of getting through the day

A very cool website to track location, age, and gender of voters as they post on facebook that they have just voted: http://www.facebookstories.com/vote

Video put out by NPR called "A Campaign Map, Morphed By Money": http://www.npr.org/blogs/itsallpolitics/2012/11/01/163632378/a-campaign-map-morphed-by-money

The important things in life

Follow the trajectory of the most competitive states to see who is more likely to win the election. Romney has 76 ways to win, Obama has 431, and there are 5 that would result in a tie. 512 Paths to the White House put together by the New York Times: Paths to the White House

As an Anxious Ohioan, s/he may enjoy the above choose your won adventure "game." Or it will just make him/her more anxious....

Yes and Yes.

Our resident Canadian chimes in

What about the Green Party?

The people who reference movies on election day... (because the whole facebook world making a Remember, Remember status yesterday wasn't enough)

The Hunger Games informing our daily lives

Mean Girls for the win

And then there's just blaming election results on people drinking

I hope this will make the next few hours just a little bit more fun and exciting!

Weighing In

2012-11-05T23:03:00.000-08:00

In honor of hitting over 3,000 views on my blog I decided that it's time for a long overdue update of the 21 by 21 list. Let's be real; I didn't accomplish all the goals. But the ones that I did were lots of fun, are accompanied by stories of success, failures, and adventures, and have definitely made the past 6 months more exciting than I thought. I'm grateful that I had an excuse to try at least some of the things on my list and a platform to write about them. The experience is long from over, it's just beginning. But in order to progress, I've gotta recap the few goals accomplished, or at least attempted to accomplish without much success:

Top Views by Country (and browsers) from May-November

Donate blood
Ah yes, the day that I almost fainted. Twice. One of them when I was on the subway. But now I have a blood-donor card and I'm signed up to give again at the Columbia Blood Drive this week! Thanks again to JCoop for coming with me!

Register to vote

Ever think you did something and then call to confirm and realize it never happened? See I thought I had registered to vote, in fact I was pretty sure that I had registered at least twice. So when my absentee ballot never came in the mail and I called Natick Town Hall to figure out what was up it turend out I was never registered. Much to my dismay, I filled out the forms again and am ready to vote in my first ever Presidential election! Also, I'm convinced that everything would have gone smoothly if it hadn't been on my 21x21 list, but the blog has its way of making things more interesting....

Open a credit card account
Speaking of interesting, if you try to open a credit card account and you have no money, don't tell them you have no money. Because that's what I did and I got denied a credit card. So still no credit card account but I have some friends who have assured me they will walk me through the process next time around.

Go to the West Bank
After getting on two different trips to the West Bank (Encounter and JStreet, the latter who won't stop emailing me) I couldn't go on either because the former changed their dates and I was in class and the later canceled their trip. Then my passport got stolen (good times, ammirite) and so I never made it out there. But hey, there's always the next time I'm in Israel (yes Mom, I'm going back to Israel after I graduate....)

Do a split

Yeah, that never worked out. But A for effort?

Get 100 followers on my blog
Six months later I have 10 followers which is a nice start. But again, I have over 3,000 views so that's something!

Learn to cartwheel

Picture take by Jonathan after the only time I've ever cartwheeled

Since the 3rd grade I've been trying to learn to cartwheel and let me tell you, it's not going to happen. Whether it's Deborah trying to teach me in my backyard or Keren and Ari on the beach in Tel Aviv, I cannot get my hands to support my entire body while trying to push myself to spin upside down. The only time I've cartwheeled ever was off my bed on my 18th birthday freshman year when I was reaching for my phone which was far out of my reach. I have friends who swear to the fact that it was a cartwheel. And I had bruises from the landing for over a month.

Go to Petra, Jordan

YES! Success! My partner in crime this summer, Julia, and myself buckled down and made it to Petra. And it was an incredible experience! One that I have assured her I will write about some day from the 8 hours total getting from Jerusalem to Eilat to thinking that we weren't going to get on our trip to Petra, the craziness of the hostel we stayed at, the border crossing into Jordan, Petra itself, Julia's almost fainting and refusal to buy $4 Poweraide and the trip back... it was all a whirlwind of a fantastic 48 hours that I'm so happy I did and with such a perfect travel companion.

Lose 10.5 pounds (10.5x2=21!)
Done and done. And what a great feeling that is because the first post (if you aren't an avid reader and are just chiming in for the first time) was Counting Calories. Perhaps the only thing on the list that needed constant work (I guess the split could have fallen under this category too, but you win some you lose some) I'm super excited and proud of this one.

To be sure, there is much more to do. Maybe I'll make a 25 by 25 and plan it a lot better. Maybe not. From now on, I'm done with lists on the side of the home screen and keeping them on my whiteboard in my dorm room. The blog is going to morph into what some of my initial intentions were with it- thoughts and observations about Generation Y as seen through a Jewish, Feminist, Israel-loving, Volunteering, College Senior.

If it's not for you, you don't have to follow. But if you're interested in what, in my eyes, is making our generation think, act, and change, then stick around for what should be an exciting ride!

Garin Tzabar Regba: A Thank You

2012-09-21T21:31:00.000-07:00

A year ago, my brother Jonah moved to Israel (in Hebrew termed Aliyah or literally going up because no matter where you are you are ascending towards Israel) and about 3 months later enlisted in the Israeli Defense Forces. If you have a brother or sister or friend or cousin or anyone that you know who moved to a different country to serve in their army and if you're anything like me then you know the emotional toll that it takes on you. There are two emotions that take over and compete with each other for attention from your body and soul. Pride. Pride that your brother is living his dream. Pride that he will forever be a role model to you, your children, your nieces and nephews, and your friends. Pride that he is putting all of his other studies, goals, and aspirations on hold to commit over two years of his life to serving his country- your county. Pride that he has the courage to talk about doing something since the 10th grade and he stops talking the talk and finally walks the walk. And then there's fear. Fear of being away from someone who you spent your whole life with, even two years in college together. Fear of growing apart. Fear of his loneliness during the scorching hot days and freezing cold nights while training in the desert and of being so helpless abroad having nothing to offer but sympathy and love over the occasional Skype calls. Fear that your children won't know his children the same way you have always dreamed about. Fear that despite the tons of family you have in Israel he will be alone without a family of his own.

Jonah at the airport leaving for Israel. Me in tears.

None of these feelings are foreign to anyone who has someone close to them serving in the IDF, or any army, nor are these all the emotions captured. The truth is it would be near impossible to describe what goes through your head during the week of non-stop crying when your best friend moves away. And there's no way to describe the excitement in those first few months when you get an email or a skype call or the first time you hug that person when you see them in uniform. These are powerful experiences and unlike Israelis who are raised knowing that they will serve in the army, as did their siblings and parents and grandparents before them, we do not grow up preparing ourselves for these feelings.

Over the last year I have been beyond fortunate to visit Israel twice; the first time to see Jonah's swearing in ceremony at the Kotel (Western Wall), and the second time when I spent 7 weeks in Israel this past summer. Over these two trips I think I spent a total of eleven days with Jonah, seven of them more or less at Jonah's moshav (best translated into neighborhood community) where he lives in student-type housing with other Americans (now Israelis, too!) who have made Aliyah and enlisted in the army. He is part of a program called Garin Tzabar and each member of his garin, group of Americans embarking on this journey together, is assigned a host family on the moshav because they are lone soliders and, quite obviously, do not have their parents to do laundry for them, send them back to base with cookies, cut their hair, or cook them meals when they are home. Jonah's host family is phenomenal. They adore him, and who wouldn't?!

Seeing Jonah for the first time in uniform
I was so ecstatic that entire day!

But what struck me most when I spent those estimated seven days with Jonah on his moshav was not his loving host-family who fed us both with delicious food, ironed his clothes, sewed on buttons to his torn uniform, lent him their car, and talked American Basketball teams with him. It was his friends, the other 30 or so 20-somethings who embarked on this journey together. The group that forms the garin is assembled by geographic location in the US so that they can attend seminars together before moving to Israel- Jonah is in a Northeast college aged or post-college group so his friends have had similar life experiences in universities leading up to their move. These amazing and inspirational people go through experiences I cannot fathom. The boys and girls all serve in different competitive units and when they come home on weekends, albiet not every weekend, they are exhausted and worn out and just want to sleep. But instead of crashing and hibernating and rejuvenating themselves for the week or three to come, they get together at 5pm and do a Shabbat Circle where they say the blessings for Shabbat and all go around talking about their weeks. Even though they mostly talk to each other in English when at home, the Ma'agal Shabbat is all in Hebrew and I was so happy to say the blessing over the challah and speak about my week both times I participated in the circle.

Afterwards everyone relaxes, Sykpes with their parents, and most people have Shabbat dinner with their host families. At about 10pm, music starts to blast from various rooms, drinks are being made, and the night's plans have been decided, changed, and re-decided three times over. Eden helps the boys by adjusting their barrets and Arielle is sure to pop in to everyone's room asking specifically about their weeks and checking in in a meaningful way. You can hear Michal from down the hall as she tries to gauge the dress code for the night because of course, the whole group is going out to let loose for a night off. Going into hilarious stories of trying to convince an Israeli sherut driver that sat 12 people (A sherut is like a mini van that picks people up on the side of the road and drives them to their destinations as long as they're all in the same direction- in Israel that either means North or South. Sometimes a sherut will pick up enough people going to the same place that he'll just make a flat rate for the group and drive them directly to their destination. I LOVED when that happened because it turns into a party-bus atmosphere and you feel special even though it's a pretty normal occurrence.) that he should drive a group of 15 of us going to a dance club over an hour away, other cab drivers taking pictures of our faces because apparently we were being rude and refusing to pay so we needed to be reported to the police...via iphone photos...(really, that happened), girls not being able to decide if they were going to get in the car or not and ultimately deciding to get dropped on the side of the road, and dogs with theoretical rabies are meant for another time. But understanding how much these young adults function as a family for each other is fundamental to understanding how they make it through day by day, week by week.

Sam can spend an entire car ride talking to Michal about how he wants a girlfriend but no girl has enough spunk to handle him. Michal will dance up a storm wherever we go and make sure the other girls are having fun with her not stopping until everyone is happy. Mati won't see Jonah for over 8 weeks because they're never out at the same time but will still leave welcoming notes in the room for him and they are sure to talk regularly to keep each other up to date. Danny will welcome anyone and everyone visiting for Shabbat with genuine conversation and a love for fun as long as they're wiling to be made fun of a little by him. Mattan who is in an amazing unit was told that he had to make a serious decision about continuing in the unit or not because of an injury and turned it around in the best possible way, ultimately hoping that it will place him in a unit with his friends Sam or Jonah from the garin. Arielle is everyone's big sister and bestfriend, and Amy is always down to have fun and make the most out of the night- including screaming at a driver at 5am to just drive the extra 10 seconds to the correct buildings. I didn't get to know Tom, Jacob or Jason too well but like everyone else they were just trying to chill with their friends, relax at the pool, and get some quality time in together before going back on base. Gal's host family and real family got together and invited everyone over for a delicious Shabbat brunch. Realities hit home when grandparents pass away in the States and the simple fact is these guys are in the army and can't make it home so they do what they can for each other. They drink some whiskey, eat some schwarma, and talk about their families back home who seem so distant yet they all know exactly who has how many siblings and have probably all met each other's parents on video chats. And there's more, so much more, that goes on to make sure everyone is taken care of both when they're home and on base for Shabbat.

Two pictures of Garin Regba taken from facebook

So you get the idea... these guys and girls have become a family. They laugh with each other and at each other. They call to check up when someone is on base and they sit freely on each other's beds saying whatever is on their minds. They go through ups and downs together. They support each other and love one another as if they have been together their whole lives. Sahar tagged the entire garin in a photo of a sign on facebook-- the sign said, "Sometimes friends are family, too." They are not all best friends but they are all family. They fight and confront each other (that time that Danny wanted to go to a club almost 2 hours away for his birthday and the girls tried to stage an intervention, emphasis on the word tried) but they do it out of love. And that love, found in their conversations, phone calls, laughter, and dancing has alleviated one of my fears. Jonah is not in this alone; none of them are. Maybe his nuclear family who grew up in Natick, MA can't be there all the time, but his Garin Tzabar family can be, has been, and always will be.

Garin Regbah, I owe you a huge thank you. Thank you for remembering to have fun after a shitty week of being worked tirelessly. Thank you for dropping everything to catch up and look out for each other. Thank you for remembering your convictions and serving your country, and all the while loving one another. Thank you for being a family for each other when we can't be and alleviating our fears that you are there alone. When you don't feel appreciated remember that you are. You are more than you can ever fathom.

The two of us in Tel Aviv on my most recent trip

You can read Jonah's not-so-frequently-updated blog here: http://jonahliben.blogspot.com/

Volunteer This Week!

2012-09-10T11:16:00.001-07:00

Many of us volunteer weekly and many of us don't. If you're anything like me you want to do every single opportunity that comes your way and then you realize that they all conflict with prior engagements. I've been doing some reading on the surge of volunteerism after September 11, 2001 (blood bank drives, monetary donations, etc) and the anual urge to volunteer around this time.

We volunteer for all different reasons. We volunteer to make others happy, we volunteer to make ourselves feel good. We volunteer because we feel a sense of community and we want to give back especially in times like September 11th, Thanksgiving, Christmas and Hanukah when we really feel culturally thankful for what we have in our lives- food, shelter, family, friends, and the like. So whether you are volunteering to remember a loved one, to make September 11th a little different than the 10th or 12th, or because you simply volunteer on Tuesdays and tomorrow is a Tuesday, here are some things that you can do in the New York City area this week. No one is questioning your motivations, we can get into that later if it's something you're interested in grappling with. But tomorrow join me in helping the New York, or Boston, or DC, or, LA, or Jerusalem, or Tel Aviv community in the spirit of remembrance and always working towards a brighter future. Sunday night marks Rosh Hashannah, the Jewish New Year, so let us strive for a year where giving- time, energy, thought, or money- is part of our daily lives.

Donate Blood at the New York Blood Center
Make Sandwiches for the homeless at JTS- 2nd floor Unterburg 12:15-12:45
Fold Clothes for the homeless at JTS- 2nd floor Unterburg 12:15-1pm
Find an opportunity in your area through 9/11 Volunteer Match
Find inspiration from this website, Birthday Spirit, my friend from high school created for those whose birthdays are on September 11th.

Of course if you have other opportunities or suggestions (or just comments), post them in the comments below to share!

Senior Year Tomorrow

2012-09-02T14:42:00.002-07:00

--I wrote this post last week and apparently never pressed "publish." So it's a week late, sue me!--

Instead of packing for my senior year of college which is an impossible task and will no doubt end in me giving up and resolving to just come home with an empty suitcase in two weeks for Rosh Hashannah (which is, by the way, after I turn 21), I am freaking out about everything I need to do before and during this year.

All you 2013ers out there, I know you're feeling it too. The excitement of having the best year of your life and the anxiety of having to make it the best year of your life. I'm taking 6 classes (again, ugh) this semester, how am I supposed to have time for fun and friends and shows in the city and volunteering and maybe even a little sleep? It seems like the impossible dream. But it's not a dream, in fact I'm very awake- this is the latest I've been awake since I landed 6 days ago. Jamming to Guster, Shwayze, Goo Goo Dolls, and Rihanna (I've always had a keen sense for bringing together artists no one else listens to in the same sitting) I find myself dancing in my room surrounded by clothes and crap to decorate my tiny college dorm room, pausing only to make lists upon lists of things I'm forgetting and need to do, and of course, to blog.

And my mom just came in and threatened to throw out everything I leave behind because I clearly don't need it if I'm keeping it at home in Natick for yet another year. Great.

This time not ransacked, just messy

And the question. Oh my god the question. You all know the question I'm talking about, the one where everyone all of a sudden becomes an expert on life after college and asks you what you plan to do the minute you graduate because 10 months from now I'm magically going to be doing exactly what I want where I want how I want.

Tomorrow's move in day followed by a week of hanging out in the city, seeing friends, meeting new students and starting to figure out how the future is going to come together. And planning my 21st birthday party. So here's to two semesters of working hard and playing harder. Of developing those friendships of the we're all going to be at each other's wedding variety. Of trying to figure out what's next and remembering that it's okay if it's not all figured out. I'm energized. I'm nervous. I'm excited beyond imagination. Let's make this year count in every way possible.

A Reflection or Two

2012-08-21T17:19:00.002-07:00

Every moment in every day there are people around us just waiting to influence our lives, but it's not every day that we stop to let them in to allow them to do just that. As I sit on a bus from NYC to Newton thinking of some of the people I've met this summer I realize how lucky I am to have spent time with them and to have allowed them to influence my thoughts and ideas. Below are some bullet point reflections on my 7 weeks abroad, but I would be remiss without acknowledging those friends, family members, coffee shop and hummus store owners, who played a bigger part in my time away shaping the way I think and act and want to conduct my life than I could have ever imagined.

So here goes a thought or two...
Everyone needs a Nahum. I am forever indebted to the friendship Nahum Binder has provided me in my time in Israel and since I met him 4 years ago. My third day in Israel Nahum and I spent 3 hours laughing, catching up, figuring out my busses from my apartment to classes and getting school supplies from his office. When I babysat his wild and fun five year old boy he gave me the special Sara Liben rate and when I got robbed he printed out copies of all my documents to bring to the consulate and made sure I still studied for finals. My last day in Israel he came into town just to say bye, not to mention all the times he helped me with directions especially when I was computer-less and getting more lost than the average once or twice a day. We all need someone as kind-hearted as him in our lives.

It is okay to not have your life planned out by age 20. Or even age 21. And it is okay to not be the most accomplished person in the world before you graduate college. If you're also in the Ivy-League craze of everyone needs to land the best internship freshman year and start a non-profit in a third-world country by junior year, (or you know, if non-profits aren't your thing then I'm sure you have a job at Goldman or Citi by summer after sophomore year) then you will greatly benefit from what I have learned. Our contemporaries in Israel are spending these years serving their country and are astounded by the direction that we have by age 21. Which makes me wonder, what kind of direction do we have by age 21? Some of us have a lot and some of us have very little. But we have our whole lives ahead of us and it's simply okay to realize that it's not all planned out and not everything will be accomplished by graduation. Which leads me to my next thought--

Make a list (which we all know I love to do) and don't accomplish it all. It gives you some things to look forward to in the future-- helllo skinny dipping in Tel Aviv!

The far Left is often, if not always, as close minded as the far Right. There is nothing that made me want to cry in class more than someone putting down my convictions without being able to listen to what I had to say because if I thought that there was a legitimacy to the Israeli army, well then I must be an awful person but of course you're not because you're a Peace and Conflict Major so you must be correct. We need more open-minded thinking people who aren't hiding behind broad statements to be in conversation with one another. Listening, understanding, challenging others, and challenging ourselves is the direction of the future. Let's get there together.

Everyone has something to teach you, you just have to let them.

Even if vegetarianism is not for you, it is worth having a veggie or even vegan meal if only to explore new ways to cook with simple, accessible, and delicious ingredients. And to make your roommate, friends, and cousins happy.

Say yes when you want to say no, otherwise you never know what that night could have been. And it is oftentimes better than it would have been if you had said no. It IS possible to have dinner with your friends and her parents, go out to drinks with her afterwards, see your bestfriend (Rachel here's your shout out!) in a random apartment in Nachlaot, and end up sleeping at a different friends' place all in the same night. Just figure it out in your head and make it happen.

Some inspiring friends:

Natan, Gabe, and Rachel are friends from high school (Maimo '09) who made Aliyah and are following different paths- Gabe just finished his 3 years in the army, Natan is waiting to hear from Med School/Army programs, and Rachel is about to begin her degree at Hebrew University.

Me and Micah at a Hadag Nachash concert. Micah just moved to Jerusalem to start The Jerusalem Youth Choir - an acapella group for Israeli and Palestinian students in Jerusalem

With Keren (also my freshman year college roommate) and Julia- my buddies in Jerusalem. Julia was interning at IPCRI and was my partner in fun in Jerusalem as well as in Petra, Jordan which I promise will be posted about some time....

You can do everything. But if you always do everything you won't be able to do anything. Take care of yourself or else you'll end up sick in your last week of Jerusalem getting 6 hours of sleep and coughing up a storm and before you know it you'll be boarding a plane for a 12 hour flight with no cough medicine. So yes, do everything, but do it in moderation so that you don't lose time and end up doing nothing.

Try living without a computer for a few weeks. It's not easy and it will drastically change your plans, but it's definitely eye opening to see how much you depend on the connection to the rest of the world and what you can do without it.

Accept help when it's offered. Ask for it when it's not. I never would have gotten through one of my weeks in Israel without the help of Aunt Shirah (Super Dodah as I called her) and friends David, Julia, Rachel, and Hody. Whether it was driving me to the Consulate or police station, getting me out at night and my mind off of the apartment, or realizing that I've been crazy for sleeping with my wallet every night (seriously, that happened) these friends significantly helped me get through a week without parents or siblings.

Sometimes silence is the best indicator of comfort. If you can sit in silence eating or reading or thinking next to someone and feel completely comfortable, not having to force any sort of conversation, you're in a good place.

Make friends with strangers and trust your instincts. Your travels and stories will be infinitely better if you do. See post 48 Hours of Tel Aviv for just an idea of some of the great characters I met on the streets of Jerusalem. Then begin to imagine the ones met in Tel Aviv, Eilat, Petra, and more.

Don't just talk the talk but start to walk the walk. Even if that means taking baby steps. Wow, the people who are walking the walk, whatever their walk is, those are the inspiring people I referred to in the first paragraph.

Make time for family. Always.

Spend time with friends at night. We'll sleep later on buses, airplanes, or on the beach during the day.

L'hitraot, Israel. See ya in a year or less when I start looking for an overpriced apartment in your wonderful cities.

Boker Tov, Indeed!

2012-08-14T00:22:00.003-07:00

You know those days that you wake up and you just know... today's gonna be good. Despite the anxiety dreams the night before, the incumbent laundry and packing, the sore throat only exacerbated by the coughing, the food to cook for the BBQ tonight... You just say to yourself, hot damn, I have two days of vacation left and I'm gonna do what I can with those two days.

I believe in the pay it forward method. So I said boker tov (good morning) to the guys emptying the dumpsters on my street as I was walking home this morning. And yes, I did just invite the guy at my favorite coffee shop (Butiko, check it out) to come and visit me in NY anytime he wants. If my boker tov leads to aother person's boker tov which leads to someone else's tzohorayim tovim (good afternoon) then today is gonna be a good day for a lot of people.

I'm gonna go drink some tea to take care of my sore throat (don't worry, it is accompanied by ice coffee) and hop on a bus to Tel Aviv to check out some jewelry at the crafts fair (when life gives you robberies, get new jewelry, ammirite?!) Tel Aviv sun, here I come! But not for too long, gotta be back in Jerusalem by 5pm to buy the food and cook for the bbq David and I are hosting tonightin honor of his finishing his degree in computer engineering and to say l'hitraot (see you again) because we all know I'll be back! To those reading in Israel, enjoy the beautiful day. Those just waking up in America, boker tov and pass the energy forward across the globe!

Life is good. Life is funny. Let's do our part in acknowledging that in our day to day routines, we can do little things that can make a big difference. Indeed, today can be, and will be, a boker tov.

(Written from my blackberry, please excuse any blatant, or not so blatant, typos).

6 Week Slump

2012-08-09T07:14:00.002-07:00

I think I'm wearing down. I know it seems like all I've been doing is a whole lot of staying out late and getting lost on buses, (I admit that I really did take a bus the wrong direction and ended up in Gilo, a somewhat contested area, until I finally made it back to my neighborhood an hour or so later...) but the studying, the finals, the robbery, saying bye to Jonah, and the list of friends here shortening by the day as people go back to the states and parents are visiting their children in Israel for the summer is all finally catching up to me.

I can't remember getting more than 6 hours of sleep in a while and my body feels it. At camp (my only summer frame of reference) we refer to this at the sixth week slump. I refer to it as my anxious about only having 6 days to get a new computer, phone, see friends and family, and move in to New York when I go home and only having 6 days to have the best week of my life in Israel when all my friends have family visiting them slump. So besides sleeping (I'm about to go down for at least a 3 hour nap), cleaning my room, and stretching, here's my short list of things to accomplish in the next 6 days. Friends in Israel, take a day off from your parents or an evening away from work and have some fun with me... 6 by 6 here we go (ah, if only it was 5 by 5 for all you fellow Buffy fans...)

1. Karaoke Night
2. Swing dancing
3. Get my passport from the Consulate (you laugh but it needs to happen)
4. Skinny Dipping (two birds, one stone!)
5. Go running on the Tayelet
6. Watch the sunrise in Jerusalem

(No picture due to stolen camera... it's never too soon, right?)

A different kind of Tisha B'Av/ פרצו

2012-08-02T04:14:00.000-07:00

Every day in Israel I'm learning new words. They generally have to do with my daily life or are fun slang words that make me seem more part of the culture. Like all new words I'm adding to my lexicon the one I learned on late Saturday night/early Sunday morning was not by looking it up but by experiencing it: פרצו- they robbed.

On Erev Tisha B'av, the night before the 9th of Av, a fast day very meaningful particularly in Jerusalem I made a schedule of things I wanted to do in Jerusalem during the day. (Yes, I love making schedules, thanks for that, Mom). I had finals on Tuesday so studying was a must, but I wanted to daven mincha (the afternoon service) at the Kotel, was seeking out a community at Robinson's Arch to be with, and had planned on waking up early to go to an interesting learning session at the Pardes Institute. I have always been at camp for the fast day and I was so excited to connect on a different level in Jerusalem, going to the sites which we mourn praying side by side all types of Jews and delving into the issues Jews face every day within our community of Sinat Chinam, senseless hatred (which at camp at least is the primary focus of most older-level discussions on the day of mourning). I was out of my apartment for 3 hours and by the time I got home my apartment was ransacked. I walked into my apartment, saw my very neat roommate's room was a little messy, and then saw that the door to our backyard was open. Shock and panic rushed through me as I entered my room which can best be described as hit by a tornado; clothes were thrown out of my closet on to the floor, my bed was torn apart, every single box under the bed was emptied and items from shelves were everywhere. Keep in mind that I am sub-letting my apartment so most of the stuff gone through was not mine. But most of the stuff stolen was. Thank god my friend Micah had walked me home and he describes the scene as follows:

"Holy shit. Holy shit. This is not messy because of me. Holy shit." I sat on my couch staring at my room and thought about everything that was ostensibly (the room was really messy, did I mention that) missing. Computer-- shit. Camera--shit. American money--shit.

He started to call the police and we suddenly heard a knock on my door- turns out the police were already there because another apartment in my building was also robbed. I stood there staring at them and just showing them around. My Hebrew escaped me. My mind was racing. I needed to call my roommate, David, who was staying at his parent's that night and tell him what happened.

Just an idea of what my room looked like

The police look around, ask me what I can think was stolen, figure out how they broke in and give me the case number and tell me someone is coming tomorrow for fingerprints. Try to not move anything so the investigator can see the whole scene. Great, I'm really going to sleep easy tonight.... So Micah stays with me as I call my dad, "Do you have your passport?" I check and see they stole my backpack with my passport in it (I went to Petra, Jordan on Thursday and hadn't yet unpacked). More panic ensues and I start thinking of everything on my computer that was lost. Don't bother asking, it wasn't backed up. I start making lists on sticky notes of things to do. If the options are fear and panic or panic into action, I choose turning panic into action. People to call: Mom, Jonah, Maya (who I'm sub-letting from), Hebrew U (How am I going to take finals with no notes to study from).... Things stolen: that list just kept getting bigger and I added passport and jewelry (some really really nice, expensive, and meaningful jewelry) to it. I had my dad give me the phone numbers I needed and hung up the phone. I told Micah he could leave, that I had many phone calls to make, and that I would be okay. He was very hesitant to leave me alone but the police assured us I would be okay in the apartment. I called my mom and took down many phone numbers and then resolved to try to read until I could sleep. I was up until 4am getting in touch with the Consulate and family and finally got to sleep until 7:30 when David saw all my calls and texts, called me, and came right over. Before 8am he was here and we started to see what they stole from him, most notably an expensive camera, his fan, and a pair of old sneakers.

My day of fasting, studying, and davening turned into a day of filing police reports (I spoke in Hebrew at the police station!), dealing with locksmiths, checking for fingerprints (they wore gloves), getting calls from almost all of my family members in Israel, and starting to clean the room. I was an emotional mess. Someone was walking around with my passport. My computer. My camera. My jewelry. I am so thankful that I wasn't home, that no one was hurt, that these are all material things. But the violation of someone having your stuff- photos, papers, thoughts and ideas, identity... that is still with me. Every hour I think of something more that was on the computer and feel that pang of hurt. I was too scared to sleep and too tired to work. The vicious cycle has prevented me from sleeping almost all week and I've woken up every 3 hours on the nights that I got more than 4 hours of sleep, which have been 2 since Saturday night. I feel emotionally and physically tired like I want to be with my friends and family and go through my photos in the comfort of my bed.

Do not get me wrong. I am extremely thankful that I am okay. I am extremely grateful that everything is material, that I had my wallet on me, and that 3 years of things on a computer, in the greater scheme of things, is not so much. I wrote an email to 15 of my closest friends from different walks of life telling them what happened, telling them I missed them, and hoping that wherever they were commemorating Tisha B'Av we could work towards a better place devoid of senseless hatred next year. Almost everyone responded and the love and support I felt from abroad was unimaginable. My friends in Jerusalem were offering anything I needed- I told them I just needed to get out a little bit. My roommate took me to the police station and put himself in my shoes trying to help me in any way possible. I am beyond grateful to my Aunt Shirah who went above and beyond getting me a computer from my cousin for my finals week, helping me with my appointment with the Consulate for a new passport, and constantly checking up on me. To friend Nahum Binder who I called Sunday morning and who helped me remember things I needed to do from a practical standpoint, making sure I was still studying for finals, and printing out all of my documents my parents scanned. To my parents for sending me tons of emails this past week and putting up with my calling them every day to check in. For acknowledging that I was pretending to be not as scared as I was. For emailing my aunts and uncles and asking them if I really seemed like I was actually okay.

David and I did nothing wrong. Our doors were locked, our shades were down, and even if my stuff was strategically hidden it would have been found by the way every single pocket of my luggage was gone through. We're victims of senseless hatred exacerbated by the fact that people were not home because they were at synagogue, with friends, walking around the streets of Jerusalem. The police said there's no hope of finding our stuff, even in second-hand stores, that it's all probably in the territories by now (I'm not saying this because of stereotypes, 3 different police officers all said the same thing) so I have no hope of getting anything back.

What next? Everyone go back up your computers. Then take a minute to be so grateful for your health, family, friends, lives. I hear that getting your apartment robbed is a type of rite of passage in Jerusalem. This is not okay. So once you take a moment to reflect and thank whomever or whatever you thank, take action. Teach about senseless hatred, work on a way that you can prevent it in your daily life. You know it's funny, because before I came home that night I told my friend Micah that I have a lot of faith in the power of humanity. I still do. I have a lot of faith in the power of what you can do. And all of those yous make a pretty strong we. Next year, let us all have a better Tisha b'Av knowing that we did something, no matter how small, to make this world a better place.

48 hours of Tel Aviv

2012-07-23T09:12:00.002-07:00

One of my best friends from college, Mia, came to stay with me for a week in Jerusalem. Mia was in Barcelona for 7 weeks and made a pit stop in lovely Rechaviyah (the neighborhood in Jerusalem where I live) before heading back to Massachusetts. Granted I was only in Israel for a week and a half when Mia got here, I was determined to give Mia the best week of her life. You'll have to ask her if it was or not. Because I am in class Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, Mia toured Jerusalem during the day and at night I did homework, we went out a little, and the next morning we would go out for breakfast before repeating. Our initial plan was to go to Tel Aviv on Wednesday night and have a real Tel Aviv nightlife experience and tour on Thursday but alas we couldn't find anyone to host us for the night so we decided to experience the Jerusalem nightlife on Wednesday...not exactly sure what we were expecting but here is what we got.

**This post seems long but is just a ridiculous slew of events that is a very easy read. Also, there is no point other than to retell some of our adventures and relive some good times so don't expect any more. Also, Mia and I assure all readers, especially parents and grandparents, that we are very responsible girls who know our limits and are staying safe.**

To understand the next 48 hours, allow myself to introduce you to some of the characters:
Me- Living in Jerusalem, Hebrew is pretty good, generally translate for friends
Mia- Visiting me, can understand very basic Hebrew, attracts boys everywhere she goes
Ari and Keren- friends from school (see post Live from Jerusalem)
Adam and Nati- Our waiters at a bar in Jerusalem who don't speak English
Doran and friends- Guys who sat next to us at a bar in Jerusalem. Doran speaks minimal English, his friends speak none.
Natan, Ariel, and someone whose name I forgot- Israelis with North American parents
Julia- Friend from Jerusalem who goes to school in the states, minimal Hebrew (see post Manifest Destiny?)

Mia and I go to meet up with Keren and Ari in the center of Jerusalem at New Deli, a delicious kosher meat sandwich place where we see a bunch a friends from Columbia and Barnard. We are dressed up significantly nicer than everyone there and we explain that we were supposed to be in Tel Aviv that night and wanted to bring the Tel Aviv life to Jerusalem. Ari and Keren suggest that we go to a bar called Tel Aviv to help us get the full experience and so the four of us go with our friend Leelee who is leaving Israel that night. After a nice amount of catching up, Ari, Keren, and Leelee leave and Mia and I head over to the first bar which has seats open called Nadin. This is where Mia and I meet Nati, our very nice and cute waiter. Nati takes our orders but Adam, another waiter, comes over and begins to talk to us. Adam and I speak in Hebrew a little and assures us that he will be back to sit with us. About 10 minutes later, Adam asks us how we're doing and he's really trying to lay the moves on me. He speaks to us as if Mia doesn't exist and this is something I'm not used to when being with Mia so we're just eating it up. Adam asks us if we want shots and we politely decline but after assuring us they are free (b'emet, free!) we accept and get shots of really bad vodka. But we're in a good place and are enjoying each other's company and continue talking about all things school, family, and life. Adam asks me (not us, just me) if we enjoyed our shots, we lied and said we did, and then these two guys sitting next to us asked us if we were on brithright. No, we answered the 20-something-American men, but they continued conversing with us and the conversation was so exhilarating that I can't even remember their names and when they tried to get our numbers to hang out with us later after trying to convince us to go to Tsfat with them and their Aish-type trip, we politely declined and said that maybe we would see them around Jerusalem. We were happy to see Adam who asked if maybe I would dance with him, and I said maybe later because we were still enjoying each others company.

Me and Mia outside of Tel Aviv in Jerusalem

At this point a group of 20-something Israelis come to sit next to us and two of them turned to chat up me and Mia. We meet Doran who mostly speaks to me in Hebrew but is clearly trying to get Mia's attention. Doran has a friend whose name I also don't remember but he barely said anything... we know that some of them are in the army and other have finished so we figure that they're fun. Typical American girl response. Doran makes a toast which I translate for Mia, "To life, to drugs, to sex!" and we decide that maybe they're fun but they're not really our cup of tea. Not the typical nerdy boys I'm into, at least. After lots of translating between Mia and Doran and laughing at them thinking that I can't understand what they're saying, it's 2am and Mia and I decide we're going to call it a night. Doran looks at me as says in Hebrew, "tell her that I think she's --" So I translate and say, "Doran thinks you're, wait, what was the word? I didn't understand." "Tell her I thinks shes HOT" "Ohhhh okay... check please!"

Mia and I pay for our drinks (but not our free shots! Woohoo!) say goodbye to Adam who is sad we didn't dance with him, and head on home. But wait! We never took a picture of us at the bar and we're determined to photo-document our time together so it seemed perfect when we are approached by a red-head guy who looks at us and in Hebrew goes, "Hebrew or English?" I answer in Hebrew, "Shneihem (both)" he switches to English, "how can it be both?!" to which we proceed to make fun of him for asking us the question when he clearly speaks both. This gingy, Natan, is a riot and we enjoy meeting his friends who are "mad cool" and "super cool." After trying to get us to sit at the bar we had just left, we settle on a bench in the area we are and for about 30 minutes Natan amidst his severe ADD tries to flirt with Mia and I spend the time talking and joking with Mad Cool (whose name I forgot) and Super Cool otherwise known as Ariel. The three of us are having a great time cracking jokes and just chilling when at some point Natan puts his number into Mia's phone and we say we're going to walk home, after all, we are going to real Tel Aviv tomorrow! Natan, who is driving Ariel back to his home outside of Jerusalem (that seems to be the only reason Ariel was there- his mom is catching a flight to America in the morning and he needs to give her something... he swears that it's not a curfew despite our insisting that as a 21-year old he has a curfew). Natan offers us a ride to which I reply, "Yeah, okay, and when you show up at my apartment tomorrow looking for Mia we're going to have ba'ayot (problems)" and just to make sure he gets the point I add, "And my shutaf (roommate) is really big." (He's not). So no ride, but we'll see each other tomorrow and Mia and Natan have exchanged numbers. After parting ways we call them back to make them take a picture of us because as we explained that's why we were talking to them in the first place. Successful night complete with pictures and it's time to put this story on hold for a little....

Me and Mia on our way home from TA in Jtown

Mia and I head out to Tel Aviv with three things in mind- we want to go to the Palmach Museum (my favorite), we want to go to Shuk Hakarmel, and we want to go to the beach. We plan nothing and bring no map. And remember how good I am at getting lost? Looking back on it, I have no idea what we were thinking. After getting into Tel Aviv we somehow manage to go in the right direction and then finally find the right bus (with help from cousin Michal who we called after realizing that we just didn't know what stop to get off at) and when we got to the museum we were told because we didn't have a reservation they would "try to fit us in, but we could wait in the cafeteria for an hour or so." Oooookay. Let's clarify, the cafeteria was more like a shack outside and its safe to say that we didn't buy any food. Finally we got on a tour and as expected it was incredible. There's nothing to reinforce your Zionism like learning about the people who fought for the very existence of the State of Israel while being attacked from the inside and the out after having come to the land from the Holocaust. Not to mention all things that have to do with fighting affect me differently now that Jonah is a soldier in the IDF. But I digress, this is supposed to be a post about our 48 hours spent in real and imagined Tel Aviv. When we left the museum we asked someone at the front desk for directions (how smart and unlike us) to Shuk Hakarmel and low and behold I recognized the woman sitting there! She was a counselor in my age group at camp 7 years ago, or as she so adequately put it, "oh, you were one of those effing brats." Again, oooookay. Campers, if you read my blog or made it this far in my post, let it be known that I love you dearly and when you are 20 if we're still in touch (we will be) I will never describe you that way cause I even love when you're bratty. So we make it successfully back to Jerusalem (while exploring the Tel Aviv buses) and after meeting up with Julia head out to town again at about ten to 12.

Me at the Palmach Museum. Talia- check out my dress! I'm listening to your advice!

Thursday night in Jerusalem is much more hoppin than Wednesday night but we finally found a place to sit- 21 up but the waiter didn't seem to care "just this time." Julia, Mia, and I chatted for over an hour and then we (Mia) decided to check in to see where Natan was. As expected, he was in the same part of town that we were last night (no, definitely not waiting for us and definitely not because we said we'd be back) and we headed over. He and Mia headed inside to get drinks and I heard someone call "Sara!" and saw our friend from last night, Adam! I was SO excited to see our friendly flirtatious waiter when he asked me what I was doing here I responded jokingly in Hebrew, "we wanted to visit you! More free shots, right?!" He didn't think it was so funny but he told me to sit down and I said I would once I got a drink. I told Mia and we were so excited to sit with him until she comes out asking me where he is, I point to him, and she goes, "no Sara! That's Doran!" Woops. My bad. We definitely did not want to sit with him. And that explains why he didn't think my joke was so funny..... After sitting down with Natan and meeting some of his friends, Julia got to talking to one of them and Ariel met up with us and we started talking as well. Julia and the guy she was talking to were having difficulty with the language barrier, and every 5 sentences or so Ariel or myself were helping with the translations at which point I hear someone else call "Sara!" This time it WAS Adam and Mia and I, once again, were very excited to see him. So we talked for about 5 minutes until he went back to his friends, Mia and Natan went to "look for some food" which is definitely not a euphemism for take a walk and make out, and the four of us remained chatting at the table waiting for the check. At the same time we realized it was 4am, we also realized that they were charging us extra for "security" which is definitely a euphemism for just sitting at an outside table. Julia picks that exact instant to remember that she has to wake up at 9am and starts getting real mad at the amount she has to pay but we resolve the situation and head out trying to find Mia and Natan. Natan and Ariel are of course very hungry and so we stop for food, dance in the streets a little, and finally after a few more detours make it home to the sounds of the birds chirping at 5am.

Julia, Myself, Natan, Mia, and Ariel after they stopped for food

Me dancing in the streets late at night

A post wouldn't be a post without some politics thrown in so allow me to add (if you've made it this far then you deserve it anyway) a part of the story that I originally left out. The second night when we saw Adam (this time for real) and he came to say hi, as he left one of the boys we were with said in Hebrew, "oh, of course the American girls like the Arab guys." I am very confused and ask Ariel and Natan about their comment. They explain to me that guys like Adam hang out in this area to try to pick up American tourists because they know that Israeli girls won't date them and that they have friends who have been taken advantage of by "guys like these." I challenge them, saying that despite Adam's flirting he was just our waiter the other night, we had no intention of going home with him (or allowing him to go home with us, after all, did we not just tell Ariel and Natan the other night that they couldn't drive us home), and that if they were in some country and they saw their waiter from the night before, wouldn't they be excited to see him/her? We agreed to disagree and Adam came back for a few minutes to speak to me and Mia and the guys we were with didn't go out of their way to be friendly. Adam then recognized Natan and, in hebrew, told me "I think I got into a bar fight with that guy once." Oh. That could definitely shed some light on these guys' attitudes. But they laughed about it, shook hands, at least pretended to make up.

So there it is, folks. Mia and I had quite a fun time in the Jerusalem nightlife (and a little Tel Aviv), participated in some shtuyot (nonsense), and found that no matter how much you preface a blog post by insisting that there is no point other than to retell and remember good times, you always end up with a lesson. Ours was that the conflict is all around us. Who knows if Adam, if that even is his real name or just his Jerusalem-bartending-name, has spent a single second thinking about that night, but when I woke up the next morning (to babysit on 3 hours of sleep, it was lovely) I couldn't get the exchange out of my head. Ariel and Natan live in a reality that's just different than mine. My waiter was nothing more than friendly and flirtatious, to them he was deceptive (did he tell us where he lives? Did we even bother to ask? Does it even matter?) and creepy. Of course I believe that they have friends who have been taken advantage of by Arab waiters. But I bet that they have friends who have been taken advantage of by Jewish waiters too. And I certainly have friends who have been taken advantage of by frat guys in NYC. There are people like that everywhere, so why are we generalizing, stereotyping, and preventing ourselves from having a good time?

We're safe and we laughed all night long- ultimately that's all that matters. For now. Later, we'll have to delve in to the realities that people are faced with here, and maybe even try to throw out some suggestions on how to make things better. Until then, I'm down for more fun nights in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, and beyond.

If you made it this far, I'll send you a postcard.

Manifest Destiny?

2012-07-15T12:49:00.001-07:00

I'll fast forward a little to July 4th 'cause that's on my mind right now, but don't worry, I'll fill in the details of the days in between at some point. Let me preface this post by saying that I'm on a constant search for the man of my dreams. There's hope that I'll be meeting him at Hebrew U this summer (one of the Canadians who sits behind me, perhaps?) but really, what better place to meet him than in ISRAEL?! So when I got invited on facebook to a Wet Hot American Fourth of July Summer in Jerusalem party, I knew this was gonna be good. A BBQ of a bunch of Americans, and after perusing the invite list and seeing mostly students from Bard and Yale, my friends and I began referring to it as the "Bard/Yale Party." Yes. Smart people. In Jerusalem. Boom. I was dressed in my best Red, White, and Blue-Jean Shorts ready to impress.

The group of people was incredible. An old friend from camp is living in this BEAUTIFUL apartment in Abu Tur, a neighborhood in Jerusalem that has a lot of Jews and Arabs but is known for them living in pretty separate communities within the neighborhood. Sarah goes to Bard, a very liberal college, and is living with other Bard students who are all working in some capacity with Israelis and Palestinians, and as I learned, so were most of the people at the party. What I formerly thought was called the "Bard/Yale Party" was actually termed by others "The JStreet and Co Party." Others were working at various institutions like the Shalem center- very cool and smart people doing cool and smart things. Silly me for spending my summer taking classes when I could have been working on really cool hands on initiatives to help solve the conflicts of the world. Although everyone did seem to appreciate that I was taking a class called Conflict Resolution!

Sarah who hosted the party, me in my 4th of July best, and Julia my long lost soul mate

Beers in hand, Born in the USA in the background, what did we talk about? After Jewish geography and finally meeting some friends of friends, including one of my best camp friend's gay ex boyfriend (who doesn't have a gay ex-boyfriend these days, it's all the rage), who is an awesome guy and a girl named Julia who seems to be my soul mate here, we were a bunch of Americans discussing our experiences in Israel and how we're working towards a better future in the Middle East. In some way, it really seemed like Manifest Destiny: Ideals Edition. We weren't trying to conquer lands nor make everyone fall in love with Bruce Springsteen (although the latter wouldn't be so bad). We were Americans, privileged enough to grow up attending incredible academic institutions, attempting to make the problems of the world better in the ways that we knew how; pursuing life, liberty, and happiness in places that we called home, for people that we called brothers and sisters.

The party included no BBQ, hardly any American music, very few people dressed in red,white, and blue, and definitely no fireworks yet I felt a strong sense of patriotism and pride in my country for the values on which I was raised. Whether spending time with JStreet, The Shalem Center, Hebrew U, or none of the above (definitely not all of the above), all of the students there were working with what we had. Our educations, thirst for knowledge, values we were raised on, and quest for a better future. Those are governing the experiences that we are having abroad this summer, and perhaps govern what our generation seeks to contribute to the world. And if that is the grounding which Americans like me have and the values that we seek to spread then I have a lot of faith in the accomplishments that Generation Y can make in this world.

Oh, yes, the man of my dreams. He wasn't there, at least I don't think he was. But here's to trying, dressing to impress (casually, of course), and the continual search for amazing people who will influence my life and the world around me.

Live from Jerusalem!

2012-07-05T04:56:00.003-07:00

Hello loyal and spontaneous readers!

It's been a full week since I landed in Jerusalem and the theme of the week is definitely adventures, or "
הרפתקאות." I'm sitting in a lovely restaurant in Jerusalem on Azza street, which is theoretically only 5 minutes from my apartment but I get lost a lot so it's unclear how far exactly I am. Just finished a great brunch- salad loaded with veggies, eggs, and tuna seasoned with spices and multi-grain bread on the side. God I love this country and their fresh veggies! I'll try to provide you with a little update on my week here without boring you to tears- I promise that there are many anecdotes in the post....

As you all know, after I landed (and passed out for 3 hours on Aunt Shirah and Uncle Menachem's couch) I showered and went to a Henna party for a bride-to-be in the Moshav. The joke is that Jews are always late... well Israelis are later. The party started at 8, so we went at 8:40 (Jews are late) and they didn't open the food buffet until 9:30 and by 10 Shirah and I thought that maybe she should drive me to my apartment in Jerusalem as I was anxious to move in... just as we were getting up to leave at 10:15, the bride's family dressed in what I assume is Kurdish garb started coming out...but still no bride (Israelis are later). So I'm sad to say that there was no Henna for me, but it was still nice to reintroduce myself to the world of smokers, late nights, beer, and Hebrew.

Hebrew Hebrew Hebrew. I'm working on it. My cousins are doing a really great job at speaking with me in Hebrew and when I have the time (on the bus, in my bed, basically when I am not physically moving much) I work on texting in Hebrew. I've also started writing down "words of the day" which are very much based on my experiences- I learned "approximate, משוער" when reading the bus schedule and the like, although it's more just like a laundry list of vocabulary that I've been learning. I'm already indebted to cousin Michal for speaking to me in Hebrew on the phone and pretending not to understand me when I speak English. Lucky for me she has to respond when I text her in English, but she does so in Hebrew so it works out. On the other hand, my roommate, David, speaks to me in English and I speak to him in a mix of Hebrew, English, and words that don't exist.

David is a 26 year old Israeli in school for Engineering and super nice. So far we've only been home on the same nights twice so we're still getting to know each other, but he's great to live with- super clean, super respectful, offers me all of his food, and plays great Israeli tunes when he's cooking. Mostly he's in exams right now so he's been busy studying (hah! Just kidding mom, studying is great) but we're working on getting to know each other- he also has nieces and nephews and I think he may invite him whole family for something- I'd love to meet them! The apartment we live in is really beautiful. I'm sub-letting from someone who is working at Ramah Nyack this summer and her room is a living room converted into a bed room. It's literally the biggest room I've ever lived in and as you can imagine if you know me I'm having some trouble keeping it clean but I'm working on it... I make my bed every day so that's a start! Now that I think about it I don't think I made my bed this morning, but whatever, one step at a time. We have a great garden in the back yard that is just ours and David and I may plant some flowers, fix the fence, and tile a little path together tomorrow, I'll let you know how that goes. Over all, very amazing. Fantastic location- think walking to town is like walking from Columbia to The Abbey, and walking to the market is like walking to the 90s from campus.. but there's no rain and the weather is significantly cooler at night than in NYC. I'm talking like high 80s during the days but a beautiful 60s at night.

Tel Aviv, on the other hand, is much hotter. After my Shabbat plans were canceled late Thursday night, I spontaneously went to Tel Aviv for Shabbat (bye David! See you later!) with good friends from school Ari and Keren. Kevin, a friend from Columbia, had a car so we took it to Tel Aviv with a stop for pita and salatim (assorted delicious salads, which is the specialty of all Mediterranean cuisine) in Abu Gosh, an Arab town outside of Jerusalem. My favorite salat that I had was Pumpkin-Hummus... Josh Warshawsky would definitely love it. Shabbat was wonderful and not very Shabbat-y but a very relaxing first two days in Israel. We mostly went to the beach, and did a little tiyul (translated as trip, but I prefer excursion) to Ramat Gan where there is a Safari... yes a Safari! I REALLY wanted to pet the lions but I was strongly advised not to unless I wanted to make the news. Which actually sounded like fun, so they didn't make such a convincing argument. We saw some really awesome animals, including but not limited to lions (the cutest), hippos, elephants (which just make me think of Lord of the Rings battle scenes), giraffes, zebras, and tons of other animals- those were just the coolest. At the beach I tried to cartwheel like twice and failed miserably. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to accomplish that one, folks.

At the Safari in Ramat Gan

Me and Ari on the beach in Tel Aviv

Back to Jerusalem meant time to unpack and figure some stuff out. It also meant getting home, which was a huge adventure in of itself. The trip from Ari's apartment in Tel Aviv to my apartment in Jerusalem should have taken 1.5 hours tops... it took us four. First we took a sherut instead of the bus which definitely was not bringing us to the bus station, so then we transferred (which is not a thing, more like the guy forced another sherut driver to take us somewhere else) to a different sherut which took us "near the bus station and then we could walk." THANKS guys. Thankfully Keren has 3g on one of her 4 Israel phones (I'm totally serious, she has 4 phone) so we walked the 20 minutes to the bus station and easily found the bus to Jerusalem. Keep in mind that I had about 40 shekel, or $10, left in my wallet from our Tel Aviv weekend so cabs were not an option at this point- we had a bus to Jerusalem and a bus to my apartment to go. Finally in Jerusalem we are waiting for a bus to take us to my apartment where Keren will sleep over so she doesn't have to walk home alone. But did you know that just last week they changed all the bus routes in Jerusalem?! Some stayed the same but some did not... including the one we were waiting for. It was 12:49am, we had been waiting for 30 minutes, and finally we just got on a bus that we thought took us kind of close to my apartment. And then of course we got off and the turn that I insisted was correct was wrong, so another 25 minutes and help from the gps later we arrived at my glorious apartment. Keren passed out within 5 minutes and I stayed up for a little while longer before finally calling it a night...and hey! I still had more than 10 shekel in my wallet by the time we made it home!

I see that this post is getting very long so I'll end with a quick synopsis of classes and write more adventures in new posts. I began classes at Hebrew University in Jerusalem this week- Conflict Resolution and the other is Israel in Public and International Law. They both seem really great and I am absolutely shocked by the number of people who have never been to Israel, never spoken Hebrew, or been raised with an understanding of "The Conflict" that is completely different than mine. For example, granted this is the extreme, one person said in my Conflict Resolution course, "and I'm interested now in how Jews are just realizing all the atrocities that they have been committing." More about that later.... The commute to Rothberg (the international school of Hebrew U) is not bad at all and I'm only in classes 3 days a week, albiet 3 very long days.

I'm sure I'll write more this week as I'm finally settling in... some great stories to tell and some awesome weekend plans including seeing cousin Michal tonight and Soldier Bro Jo as I've become accustomed to calling him tomorrow! And don't worry loyal readers, the quest for the 21 by 21 continues.

Live from Mozi Cafe on Azza Street, I'm off to do some errands and explore some new routes in Jerusalem. And yes, my piece of multigrain bread has become toast in the time that I have taken to write this post....

Well, my bags are packed

2012-06-28T13:45:00.000-07:00

Well, my bags are packed and I’m very ready to go. Sitting in the airport in Philly I’ve spent more time waiting for planes than I have on them and I’m just ready to go in two hours! I’ve got a phone number (but no phone yet) and I’ve got directions to Aunt Shirah’s house upon arrival, and I have a bag just barely under 50 pounds and two more carry ons… you can never take too many clothes, right? Cause that’s literally all I packed. Clothes and a hair straightener and nail polish but no toiletries and some awesome books that I’m super excited to read on the plane over (I crashed before we even took off on the plane to Philly so let’s hope this one is a little more productive). I realized I left all my photos at home which is really frustrating because I’m such a photo person but worse things could have happened, like, at least I have my passport!

Instead of going straight to Jerusalem to my apartment and meeting my 26 year old Israel roommate, David, I’m making a stop in Moshav Kfar Rut, a second home for me in Israel. A Moshav is a small community neighborhood in Israel and my aunt and uncle were founding families on this one, and my aunt has decided to take me to a Kurdish pre-wedding Henna party on the Moshav. I figure that will be a great introduction to my six weeks here, some nice time with aunt Shirah, and a fun blog post, if nothing else. Let’s hope that goes smoothly and the bride-to-be allows me to get some cool Henna done and take some photos. Maybe I'll do something on my foot to match cousin Mikki's real tattoo!

--picture of the last time I got Henna would be here if the internet at the airport was not so awful--

I’ve applied to a trip to the West Bank, I’m in the planning stages of a trip to Petra, and on Friday morning I gotta wake up early and get on my feet to meet up with the Columbia Fellowship in Israel I’m a part of even though I missed their first two events. Things are looking good, adventures are ready to be had, I’ll be seeing solider bro Jonah when he’s off from the army in a week, and I’m starting to hear kids in Terminal A scream “Ima Ima” so I know I’m in the right place.

Stay in touch, friends and family! L'hitraot (see you later)!

A day of firsts

2012-06-27T16:28:00.002-07:00

One of the major perks of reading my blog, besides of course me being able to track the location of readers which is really cool (shoutout to Mia who is upping my Spain followership), is that you get to help me cross things off the list and that seems to always be an adventure. Take my great friend since 10th grade, JCoop, who texted me on his own volition offering to give blood with me. That was awesome especially because plans to do it earlier that week had fallen through and Josh (JCoop, JE(pd), etc) and I decided that Thursday would work best for us.

Jcoop being the responsible young man he is (Rosh Edah at Ramah Nyack status type responsibility that has nothing to do with the fact that is mom is the director. No really, it doesn't he's just that awesome!) looks up where we can give blood and in NYC on Thursday and who would have guessed that Thursday seems to be the official holiday for blood banks in Manhattan? Don't believe us? Check out the NY Blood Center Donation Location website in which there is one single place listed in Manhattan open on Thursdays. Check it out even if you do believe me so you can schedule your next appointment....

Josh and I meet up after my morning class and headed on over to the Blood Center on the East side. He explained to me the process as I am clearly starting to freak out...but anything for the blog, right? Right. To make me more excited he tells me that at the end they give you cool color bandages to wear and we decide that he wants purple and I want green. We arrive, I fill out a bunch of questions, the lady tells me that my "boo has given before so he's gonna head in and I have to wait a while," adding some comic relief to the already bizarre questions like have I had sex in some foreign countries during specific years I wasn't even born yet with men who may have served in the army. Finally after agreeing that my not-so-new-nose ring was pierced with a clean needle I head in near Josh and lay down. Anxious. Nervous. And wishing someone would hold my hand.

The whole process begins and I'm fine. I'm actually great, kind of just chill, thinking what a mitzvah (good deed) I'm doing and how I could be saving a life. I think it's really cool that my blood is so easily pumping into the bag and I wonder if I was living in The Vampire Diaries or Buffy if Damon, Stefan, or Angel would want to steal my blood... that is if they were drinking human blood this episode or not. It also occurs to me that I don't know my blood type and just as I'm pondering the possible combinations of letters I start to feel faint. Fast. And then I'm sweating profusely and calling out that I don't feel so well. The woman comes over and says I had just finished giving blood which was good because I was very persistent that I needed to fill an entire pint, and she put ice packs all around me and gave me paper towels to help cool and calm me down. It was quite a humorous sight- I asked Josh to take a picture but he didn't. Also amid all the chaos of the almost fainting we didn't get to choose our colors and neither of us got purple nor green. We both got blue instead.

Josh and I at the NY Blood Center with our blue bandages!

Josh and I recovered with apple juice, grabbed some lunch to go, and said our goodbyes for the summer. This should have been the end of the blog post, but of course finding the only blood center in Manhattan open on Thursdays, almost fainting, and not getting our color bandages of choice is just not adventurous enough for the blog. On the 2 subway home alone I started feeling not so great…to the point that I was not positive that I was going to make it out of the subway at 92^nd street. Luckily I made it out, stumbled outside, and sat down on a bench right outside the station. I was really lucky and saw a friend who was entering the subway who stayed with me for a few minutes while I ate some yogurt, and ended up taking a cab the rest of the way home. I know, lame for a New Yorker, but for a girl who almost fainted on the subway I thought it was acceptable.

So thus ended my first near-fainting experience and adventure for the sake of the blog. Many many thanks to Josh for insisting that we go together, and to Tyler and Nat for making sure I was feeling well later that evening! On the bright side, I accomplished two firsts- giving blood and almost fainting! I highly recommend the former and to eat lots in the morning to prevent the latter.

This past week I missed the Pride parade in Tel Aviv and moved out of NYC the day before the one here. So I've gotta think of something new that I can accomplish by September... let me know if you have any suggestions!

Rain Boots

2012-06-13T22:16:00.003-07:00

Two days in a row of rain in NYC and I'm ready for some weather change. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain. I love dancing in the rain, I love the rainbows that come after the rain, I love being stuck inside a basement during a tornado-watch with 60 campers and 4 staff members having to hide from them the fact that all of their luggage and clothing we promised would be stored safely got moldy over the summer in the rain, and I love dressing for the rain. A staple in my summer wardrobe has always been rain boots. You simply cannot survive 2 months in Palmer, MA (one of the best places on earth) without them. Rain boots make me feel invincible, like nothing can or will stop me from splashing through any puddle I choose. And this summer as I prepare for my first in 17 years (except for that one summer I spent in the Barnard Pre-College Program, shoutout to Mira who's going in 2 weeks!) that I won't be at Camp Ramah in New England, I realized that I just may not need to buy new rain boots.

N11V Staff Prepares for a Rainy Shabbat

My anxiety about not going back to camp this summer is at an all time high. I've never lived in an apartment with a 26-year-old Israeli guy before. I've never commuted to school, had to re-learn a language, been nervous about making friends (especially now that a good friend tells me that he really doesn't get to go out while staffing a Pilgrimage tour group in the summer like I thought he did), and I've never packed for the summer in a mere suitcase and a carry-on. The rain brings back so many memories at camp- hours of staying up late with bestfriends, even more hours on staff planing programs making those friendships strengthen beyond bunk-mates into respect as programmers and educators. Packing ridiculous clothes for activities (will I need multi-colored leggings in Israel?!), making Kimah (wake up) and Nikayon (cleaning time) playlists, having heartfelt conversations with 16 year olds some of who will be at my wedding some day, and passing out at night knowing that I made a girl more confident, a boy try something different, a group of people connect to Judaism in a new way.

Most of all, as the rain drops tap on my window, is the fear that comes with the knowledge that camp goes on without me. That kids will be having amazing summers, my co counselors will become someone else's cos, and my Rosh Edah who has guided me for two years and become a real friend will develop meaningful relationships with other staff members, even more meaningful than ours. That life continues and I won't be there to be part of that magical place that builds confidence, inspires Judaism, and creates everlasting friendships. A rain-less summer in Israel means a camp-less summer for me. And who isn't just a little afraid of the great outdoors? I know I am.

I walked home from meeting Maya in the 70s where I picked up the keys to the apartment in Jerusalem I will be sub-letting from her, feet splashing through the puddles with nothing but flip-flops to protect them. I am excited to say that I won't need a pair of rain boots to bring to Israel this summer. I will need something new to ground me for the adventures ahead, and new is oftentimes scary and uncomfortable. New takes familiarity and changes it into memory. But that shift opens up room for a different thing to become familiar, and who says that I can't do anything to make it less uncomfortable? There are no puddles in the hot desert summer for me to wear rain boots, they just don't fit into this summer. Perhaps a new pair of sneakers to help support me through walking around cities, foreign and familiar, is just the type of footing I need. They can guide me to invincibility in a new way, hiking mountains and walking through crowded streets like a real Yerushalmi (person who lives in Jerusalem). My summers of rain boots are being placed aside, and you all know it's never easy to put something in a closet for a season. But with new kicks I am beginning to prepare for something different and follow my feet to a new type of experience. And who knows, those rain boots don't have to stay in the closet forever....

My Achilles Heel

2012-06-07T18:24:00.002-07:00

Sometimes things just don't go as you plan. Like remember last week when I said I was going to do Zumba every day? It worked for a good 11 days, and then I had one of the most intense and fun Zumba classes ever. There was punching and booty shaking and shimmying and crunching and even some jiving which brought me back to my ballroom dancing days. But do you know what got me? The good ole spin-and-jump-into-a-dance-combo move. I was so into this spinning and jumping that I somehow managed to twist around myself. Not the sexy kind of twisting, and not the twist-and-shout kind of twisting, but in a way I'm pretty confident I've never done before which caused me to fall to the floor. I quickly picked myself up and continued to Zumba, but I was definitely in pain. My ankle really hurt but I was having so much fun that I did not want to stop. The 15 block walk home was okay but at Shabbat dinner that night I told David and Sarah (who are both making their second appearances in the blog today!) that I really hurt myself. David suggested that I not do Zumba the next day, but it was Street-Zumba which is hip hop style, so how could I not? Bad idea. I barely made it through and almost left 3 times but after pushing through the class (taught by an awesome fellow Columbia senior) I went and got myself two ace-bandages. My enthusiasm for Zumba and dedication to this goal led to my (present but not ultimate) downfall... literally my own Achilles Heel.

First lesson learned: should have listened to David and not have gone to Zumba that day.
Second lesson learned: should not have subsequently walked the 42 blocks and some avenues that night to a friend's going away party when I easily could have waited until after Shabbat and take the Subway. I think that it may be a combination of those two things that I'm still not back on my regular Zumba schedule.
My ankle has gone in and out so to make up for my lack of cardio I've been trying to stretch a little more at home and just walk around the city. Sadly today does not mark the 17th day in a row of Zumba, but it does mark some other good things....

There is life, quite literally, outside my 21 by 21 list! Today marks my newest nephew, Shaya Amicahi's, 10th day of life! He is perfect in every way and at the bris I was able to see almost all my siblings and all of my nieces and nephews (I have 5 total now!) which just made for a lovely day with the family and the most adorable babies. I also activated my dad's iphone which was an adventure in itself- did you know you need an earring or something of the like to get the sim card out of an iphone? How is that logical? But more stories about that to come later....

Me and Shaya Amichai 8 days old

Zumba or no Zumba, progress is possible! I have seen progress in both my splits (small progress so please continue to revel in the pictures of previous post) and in my weight loss! At first I did not think it was noticeable but I ran into a girl in my class on the street the other day and she told me that I looked like I lost weight, so I decided it was time to check the scale... and I had! 6 pounds since I began this journey of mine! After realizing just how much pain my ankle was in, that was an incredible discovery and just the motivation I needed to get me through the rest of the week.

Maybe not the witty or entertaining post you were expecting, but relevant nonetheless to the trials and triumphs of getting through this 21 by 21 list. If anyone knows when or where I can donate blood and wants to come with me let me know...!

Day 1 of The Splits

2012-05-29T19:36:00.001-07:00

Not quite the limber girl in the photos, but a girls gotta start somewhere....

Starting Pose. Notice how little I can stretch me legs out

A little back stretch never hurt anyone

Struggle City. Population: SML

The Splits

2012-05-28T19:37:00.001-07:00

Some of the goals on my 21 by 21 list are very circumstantial, while others will require time, effort, and preparation (ahem, 100 followers... get on that guys!) This leads me to the conquering of The Splits. Once upon a time, I was able to do a split, for about a 10 month period, and I had worked a good 5 months getting there. Those of you reading-- I am definitely not referencing David O-- who were in Kol Hamizrach with me (the esteemed Solomon Schechter of Newton 8th grade dance troupe) may remember that I did a split along with renowned dancer AG of JLDC in our final pose. But after the summer going into 9th grade, my splits were gone. And so the strenuous task of stretching and stretching and expanding my zoftig legs will commence... tomorrow.

I'm sure that my past 6 days of Zumba have begun to prepare my limbs for the unthinkable (really, just ask my mom... and now I wonder why my mom always ends up in my blog posts...) but I found a useful website that outlines some great stretches specifically to improve, or in my case achieve, your split. Those loyal followers who want to join me on my journey should refer to Splits Stretching which includes instructions and lovely images such as these:

And hey! If this limber girl in ballet attire can do it, so can I!

But what you don't know is that I will photograph my progress on the way! Tomorrow I will enlist my dear friend Charlene (who is literally just finding out about this as she reads these words) to photograph me in the six Split Stretches, and will continue to enlist different friends to photograph my progress until I have achieved a (probably left leg in front) split! I am not committing to uploading weekly photos unless there is nothing to write about or they are so hilarious that you all insist on my doing so... but don't worry, I will be sure to post the real gems!

So wish me luck, readers! I am on my way to achieving what I really think may not be possible but is certainly worth a try. And if you want to join me in this endeavor, write a comment and we can set something up! Or if you don't, write a comment for encouragement! Or just comment because I want to get comments....

I've gotta split!

Sara

Combating Calories

2012-05-26T18:10:00.001-07:00

As I near my 21st birthday* (because everyone counts 4 months in advance as "nearing") I've made myself a to do list: 21 under 21. The idea was given to me by a friend and I've begun putting together a list, some of which I'm sure will be shared publicly with my (very few) readers and some of them, I'm sure, will definitely not. One of them is something not so uncommon to girls nearing their 21st birthday; losing weight. I've never been skinny but I've never been obese. I've spent the better years of my life walking the thin line (pun completely intended) of having a proportionate body but still slightly round on the tummy, loving to dance but never have been trained properly, wearing clothes that look good but are not quite trendy because I'm afraid those jeans won't fit me in three weeks, wanting to exercise but not ready to cut out my guilty-pleasure-blueberry-muffins and more dichotomies that permeate my life (let's not get started on religion....)
I've been blessed to have incredible family and friends that do not care where exactly on that line I landed. But as my mother likes to remind me (and rightfully so) I shouldn't let my sociability keep me from treating my body well. The issue has become, as this weight loss thing is something on my 21 by 21 list (so you know it's important), how will I accomplish this goal?

I simply love food too much to do anything drastic. So I joined a gym and started a journal (and now a blog). Accountability, motivation, consistency, challenge, and happiness. Those are my mantras as of now, they are likely to change in the next three days, and I'm okay with that.

Calories are all around us- don't eat too many but the ones that you eat better be the right kinds! Need to know how many calories are in your favorite fruit? Just look it up online! Bad at math? Use a calorie counter by entering the food items! What do they forget to tell you about calories? That they are energy. That you need them to function. That without a healthy level of calorie intake you won't even make it to the gym to get rid of those calories- you'll faint on the way. I cannot sit down and count every calorie I eat, I will go crazy. I'm living in NYC, taking two classes, catching up on TV, and maybe leaving some room for hanging out with friends while I'm at it. What I have done is created a schedule for myself for my new gym (which I'm obsessed with, talk about friendly environments!) I have vowed to do zumba every single day not because I have to work out but because I love dancing and I thoroughly enjoy doing zumba. I have done lots of research on healthy ways to eat and live and decided to create a 5-meal-a-day system for myself, including only so many carbs (which don't get me wrong I wholeheartedly believe are necessary to get through the day) and lots of water.

I don't expect results in the next week, and I don't expect much of my relationships to change because of it. But I do expect a happier me (if that's possible), a more-confident me, and a me who will buy those pairs of jeans and expect to wear them three weeks later.

*September 13, save the date!