Shabbat at Kibbutz Gadera (1/28)

HUC students were invited to celebrate Shabbat at Kibbutz Gadera for the night. Not overnight, but just for a tour of the kibbutz, Shabbat services, and dinner in homes of volunteer families. Needless to say, when HUC students are invited, it is usually extended to me as well!

Eight of us went to Gadera (photo below).

We arrived around 4pm when most places of businesses were already closed. We were given a short tour of some of the neighborhoods including original buildings from the founding of the kibbutz in 1884. We hopped in our new friends' cars so they could drive us to the Beit Sefer (school) which apparently doubles as the Beit Kneset (synagogue) so that we could meet with some members of the Kehillah (community). I'm not really sure it's a congregation; if it is, it is certainly not like the ones most of us know from back home. They have a rabbi (who also was one of our guides showing us the kibbutz) but I'm not sure how it operates in terms of budget and programming. Anyway, we met to hear some first hand experiences of community members, and how they got involved in the Reform community on the kibbutz, and why they decided to move there in the first place. In general, they seemed to just Jews who strongly identify as Jews (and Israelis) but not living strictly according to halacha (Jewish law). Most of the families we saw there are young and have young kids. Most of the kids we saw there, once we moved into the space reserved for tefillah/prayer, were under the age of 10. And they were so, so SO cute!

Services were in the round, very much something I've grown to like, and the rabbi, Myra, played the flute, while another musician played the guitar. Most of the melodies were familiar to me as we went through the Kabbalat Shabbat service (which made me question how "reform" it was since I don't know many reform melodies!). What was most interesting about the service was that...there was no Ma'ariv service! I really don't have a big problem with it because I really enjoy the singing during Kabbalat Shabbat much more, but, in reality, Ma'ariv is the required part of the service and includes the Amidah, the standing, personal silent prayer. I don't even know if we did a Mourner's Kaddish which is also supposed to be a required part of the service. So we just sat there and followed along, not causing any trouble. The eight of us were also invited up to place pins in a map, in a break of the service, indicating where we all come from. Myra had mentioned that most of the kids living here don't understand that there are Jews in other places of the world. For them, it seems natural that if you are Jewish, you live in Israel. If you are a Jew, you are Israeli. It's a natural connection. So this was a great educational opportunity for us to show them that we come from a different part of the world, but we still celebrate Shabbat, and we still keep Passover, and we still know Hebrew. Well, some of us. Kind of.

After services ended, Myra called out our names in pairs and told us to which family we have been assigned for dinner. Steven and I were the last ones called, and it turns out that the family to which we have been assigned is the one that we sat next to during services! Who knew? The mom and dad introduce themselves to us; we head out to their car and meet their 3 kids who somehow all squeezed into the front seat. They told us that, instead of inviting us over to their house for Shabbat, which would have been nice, they were invited to another home with 40 guests coming, so they hoped we weren't afraid of big crowds! Lucky for all of us, it was absolutely perfect. We hit the jackpot! Coolest family, dad cycles, so Steven and him immediately start talking about that, and the mom, Carmen, is an English teacher, so both of us can communicate with her easily.

They introduced us to the hosts and the other families there, explaining to us how they knew each other, and explaining to them how we were invited for the evening. The children for the most part, sat together and after eating (for a bout 5 minutes) started running around and playing games. We had some conversation mixed in Hebrew and in English, with the families/parents, getting to know them a little bit. It turns out, Carmen and Uri are really the only ones in this particular community (he cycles with the dads in the families, and they get together as this large group once every few weeks, not every Shabbat) who identify as reform. The others are more traditional, but not all of them are orthodox. The families between themselves have discussions and disagreements about Shabbat observance and other elements of Judaism. We were just lucky enough to see it all.

It was definitely a valuable opportunity to meet the families, celebrate Shabbat in a different way than normal. I hope we can keep in touch with our new "family" who were so gracious and welcoming to us!

Swearing In Ceremony at the Kotel (1/27)

Tonight I went to the Kotel. Yes, I know it must be a very fabulous occasion, since I rarely go there. It was a very fabulous occasion indeed. A friend of mine from that I know from Echo Lake (and his family from Hillels of Westchester), Corey Feldman, was being sworn in to his paratroopers unit of the Israel Defense Forces, and he invited me a few weeks ago, so I put it on my calendar! As if that's not enough, he told me his mom Mindy was coming for the ceremony! Double exciting since I really like her and have known her for many years now.

I called Mindy earlier today to find out where and when would be a good time to meet up. Instead of meeting before the 7pm ceremony, which I had planned on, she told me she was going to the Lone Soldier's reception (soldiers who are in Israel with no family members in Israel, mostly olim/immigrants) at 5:45pm near the Kotel, but to meet her at 5pm if I wanted to come with her. So I got my things together and hopped on a bus with just enough time to get to the Kotel by 5. Now that I know the city and buses a bit better than a few months ago, it was pretty direct and quick to get to where I needed to go, walking through the Arab shuk on the way to the Kotel. I passed everyone by very quickly so I could make it there in time. I got through security very easily (purposely didn't bring a bag with me, just had phone, camera, etc.) and got to the bottom of the steps overlooking the men's side of the Kotel. Well whaddaya know, I see Corey right away! He is just stepping away from 3 young guys and looks like he's heading back to his unit or group, and after I called his name I said, "Corey, can I get a hug now incase it's a little too crazy and I don't see you later?" Of course he came over and hugged me, and I told him, "Wow, you look like a real guy!" Wearing his green army uniform, boots all laced up, and his buzz cut hair, tan skin, and beard. Mamash Israeli! He ran off to his guys, and I introduced myself to his friends, who knew him from undergrad at Penn. They just finished a Birthright trip and are doing some traveling, but made sure to come to this special night as well. No more than 4 minutes later, Mindy walks down the same steps, says hello to the boys, not realizing I'm there until she turns around, and I give her a big hug as well! Somehow, we all made it to the right spot, just by chance. Corey runs back and forth a few times, doing what, I'm not exactly sure. But there is still plenty of time until this reception so he's bouncing back and forth. While I had a moment, I grabbed some photos:

Mindy and Corey (above) in a brief moment together.

And Corey and me, Echo Lakers united at the Kotel. So happy to see him!

We follow instructions and directions very well, to go upstairs to this Lone Soldiers Reception. It was at a synagogue near the Kotel. But I really probably couldn't tell you exactly how to get there if you asked me to. So don't.

I spent a good amount of time with Mindy, and also met lots of people who work with the Lone Soldiers and the army units and Corey's friends. I overheard a bit of what Tzviki (the guy in charge of all the Lone Soldiers around the country) was saying to the guys being sworn in, and understood some of it, as he kept switching from English to Hebrew and back again. My Hebrew has definitely improved since I got here but I'm not even close to fluent so I still didn't understand a lot. What I did understand was his basic message to them: "You are very important and very special. All of the Israelis being sworn in tonight are here because they have to be here; Israelis know they have compulsory service to their country. You are volunteers. You are making this choice, the most Zionist of choices. Thank you and good luck." It wasn't exactly word for word but that was his message. And how true it was!

Truthfully, I was a little blown away by the number of guys being sworn in as Lone Soldiers, volunteers to the IDF, not native born Israelis. These were about 50 young men, all probably in their 20s, who have made aliyah on their own, with families back in America, Canada, Belgium, South Africa, Ethiopia, and other countries that I can't even remember. Something is in their souls, deep down inside their hearts, that made them come here and make a huge life commitment, and join the IDF (and the paratroopers, on top of that, not just any unit in the army) because of the belief in the Jewish homeland and a Zionist nation. I've definitely lacked some of that feeling (either pushing or pulling) in all of my time here, and even though I still don't feel it myself necessarily (I think in some cases I do), it was certainly nice to see that other people feel something really great toward this land and people.

A small token of appreciation (above) - bags for each of the Lone Soldiers - Tzviki puts these together every now and again for them, so this is the first of many.

At the ceremony, the friends of the paratroopers (above) cheer on their friends as they are sworn in to the IDF. Some are soldiers themselves or who work(ed) with the soldiers on their kibbutzim or army bases, to help teach them Hebrew, meet their kibbutz families, and offer their help as social workers. Corey's name is on the top right of the sign along with a few other names. They were by far the most spirited ones there, so happy for their friends!

We ended up with a pretty good view of the ceremony at large, facing the Kotel (which was not very busy on this night, in terms of people who were actually praying there), with screens to help enlarge the processes of the ceremony. Thousands of people were there, although I don't know how many thousands. Just being on the stairs we kept getting bumped into, having to keep moving side to side to let people through, but we could see over everyone's heads and see some of what happened in the ceremony area. It was quite inspiring to see all of these young men be sworn in. Toward the end of the ceremony (which I thought was going to be 2 hours and turned out to be less than 45 minutes), we all sang Hatikvah, which is the Israeli national anthem. I had anticipated waiting a lot longer for this, assuming it would be at the end of the ceremony, but my camera wasn't ready at 45 minutes into it; I thought I'd be waiting another hour! I cut off the beginning portion of it, but here is Hatikvah at the Kotel:

All in all, I really have to say that this was one of my favorite moments I've had in Israel. I don't feel like I witnessed history necessarily - that's a bit much. I don't really know if it's a once in a lifetime opportunity either. On one hand, it might be so. On the other hand, anyone can come and see this in Jerusalem, and it isn't exclusive only to people who have tickets or know someone in a ceremony. But it's probably the only time I will see a friend of mine during his own swearing in ceremony, spending time with his mom whose company I really enjoy. After being here for 4 months and not being shy about my dislikes about Israel and difficulties as a global Jewish people, this was definitely a positive and uplifting experience I'm glad to now have under my belt.

Thoughts on Israeli Wars (1/25)

WUJS put together some seminars for those of us interested in continued learning after Pardes's semester ended. This morning we delved into much detail about the history of Israeli wars. I am not good at history or politics and I hardly remember details, even the important ones. I remember lots of other things, but somehow I don't really have a knack for this kind of stuff. Therefore, instead of writing a summary of the lecture, I need to just write some thoughts:

War - is inevitable, it seems, especially here, but even so, in America. We wouldn't have a country of our own if it weren't for war. The American Revolution is the parallel to the War of Independence in Israel in 1948. As someone who considers herself a "peacenik" for lack of a better word, war is an even more terrible word. Then again, I wouldn't have the life I do back home in the US if it weren't for a big bloody war.

It's so sad that the agreement for peace in the 70s and 80s with Egypt (or any other country for that matter) had to happen in terms of saying land for peace, which was a cease fire. Egypt said we won't start a war against you. Why does that have to be spoken, written , recorded? Why can't we just know that war is not the answer to anything?

What would this "narrative" look like from other perspectives? Firstly, the Palestinians, but also the Egyptians (in 1973, they claimed victory in the war, but so did Israel, hence some of the problems), Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, other Arab countries. They must have a very different story they tell to their children and teach in their schools. To use the same analogy as before, what did the British say happened in the American Revolution? Not necessarily the end result because I think that's a little more conclusive, but perhaps they did see it as a loss, whereas the "Americans" who wanted to break free saw it as a victory. I think I'd like to read/see/hear this other side (or multiple sides) to form a better opinion on what should be done. "Fact" is not necessarily always fact.

In 1993, the Oslo Accords were set up as a mean to negotiate, not as a conclusion to any of the problems developed here. The PLO recognizes Israel, Israel recognizes the PLO. Both will negotiate with each other, and not use terrorism as a way to achieve goals. These were the stipulations outlined to have negotiations on the table. Yeah, well, that really worked out well. Israel got screwed. Heard of the intifada? How many Israeli civilians were killed as a result of suicide bombers coming in? And then the rest of the world looks at Israel's security fence as a crime against humanity because it puts people, ahem, Palestinians, at the butt of the joke. It was the only thing keeping Israel safe for a while, and maybe still is.

Jordan and Israel, 1994. Jordan and Israel both had mutual fear of Palestinians...shared interested in that regard. Peace treaty ensued. Mutual fear brings groups together all the time. The non-Al Qaeda world fears them because we all have their fear in common. In the movie "Independence Day" all nations of the world came together to fight the invading aliens, a foreign enemy. What would be the common fear that Israelis and Palestinians could have to bring everyone together? If only someone had the answer...

Are there other countries who negotiate land for peace or is this the only place in the world this is happening? If it is happening in other places is it the same mindset? I don't know the answer to these questions, and I'm not trying to be fecitious, just genuinely asking if this has precendence.

Oslo "Bet" agreements, 1995 - like a round two of Oslo Agreements.
Israel will withdraw from other 7 population centers in West Bank, besides Jericho (I can't remember why), 95% of Palestinians will be under control of PA, they will vote for their own people, run their own country under the Palestinian Authority. Area A is under Palestinian control fully. Israel creates Area B - Israel resposible for security control but Palestinians responsible for civilian control. Area C is settlements/army bases - Israel in full control - about 100,000 Palestinians but mostly Israelis otherwise. What does this mean in practical terms? It means the West Bank is split up like swiss cheese, with pockets of Area A and then kind of surrounded by Area B and then the rest is Area C. Was it a test of the Palestinians? They were being babysat during this time and if their behavior was good, they'd be rewarded with more land; if they misbehaved, they'd still be under strict and careful watch. Is this fair? Do they deserve to be treated like 2nd class citizens? No one wants to be restrained, not in a democracy. So that isn't exactly fair. However, as a population, they haven't really proven themselves to be civil toward their neighbors so maybe they do have to earn more land by showing they can handle the responsibility to govern themselves on a small level in order to obtain more responsibilities. It happens in workplaces all the time. You don't come in as the new guy and start running the company. You start small, hope to prove yourself to gain more respect and responsibility from the people around you. It's not a bad idea, but it's sometimes labeled as human oppression.

What does it mean to have a government who represents the people? If the people want it, does the government have to act? What if the government thinks they are acting on behalf of the people but the people do not actually agree with or support the decision? What kind of a democracy is that? Is it democracy at all?

Withdraw - a word with connotations, implies an occupation or power struggle of some kind, inherently. When anyone uses this word (in casual conversation between two people in a cafe, or in the international media, or anything in between), those connotations are brought up. No way to avoid the nuances of the word. Our language has those nuances built into it for a reason.

Rules of war: are there any? If so, who enforces them - the UN? Other countries? What do they do or not to to maintain the rules? Is it just a game, like a sport? With a referee? I hope it's not considered just a game with little consequence. At the end of a professional sports game, or a little league game, there is a victor and a loser. Someone's gonna go home sad, but no one has been killed. You get up again the next week at practice and hope for a better result next time. You can't operate like that in a war with guns and tanks and explosives and murder and bloodshed and loss of life and families affected forever and homes destroyed and people uprooted. It's not that simple.

What is the balance of - Israel "ran" from Gaza and South Lebanon? Versus, Israel retreated for the purposes of peace? Let's go back to the word "withdraw." If they withdraw, were they supposed to be there in the first place?

What if the Palestinians were actually given full autonomy? What if they were given 100% of whatever land they "wanted?" I think that opens a huge can of worms where they could invoke tons more violence and then encroach on Israel's land. Once again, Israel is the "friar"/sucker. Not fair to those who genuinely want peace already!

Hamas in Gaza doesn't even get along with Fatach in the West Bank. What does that say about a single Palestinian state - is it possible? They can't even get along with each other already.

How many countries recognize Palestine as a country? If so, is it just the governments and policy and signed documents? What do the citizens of said countries think? It goes back to whether or not a democracy really represents the people or not...

If the solution is a one state solution...it isn't a Jewish state anymore. Major problem.

They need to worry more about building their own state than destroying ours.

A lot still, to think about. But I need to get these thoughts out of my head in order to process them better. This is the start.

Environmental Day (1/24)

Today's siyur was to Hiriya Mountain (former garbage dump, now a transfer center for trash) and to Better Place, the center for the Electric Car revolution in Israel. I'm always happy to learn about environmental efforts taking place here (or anywhere) and I love it even more when other people, who are not so knowledgeable about the environment, have the opportunity to learn.

We started the day at Hiriya, with our guide who told us about the facility there. The first place we saw was the transfer station. This is where all of the trash from 6 municipalities (from around Tel Aviv) is brought, then it is crushed up into smaller bits, and then it is taken via truck to the desert in the south, where it is buried. Not exactly the best way to eliminate trash but they can no longer put the trash on Mt. Hiriya because it was beyond full a few years ago. The put 2 meters of soil on the top of everything that had been there, and started turning the area into a park, growing green areas including herbs (which smell a lot nicer than the garbage), and using recycled/reusable materials to build a tourist site/museum (not really sure what it is). Lots of pictures below!

This is the trash in the transfer station. If Israelis (and others) knew how to recycle better, the only things that would end up here are truly trash. There is plastic and aluminum mixed in here, as well as compostable materials (such as food scraps). Israel's recycling program does not seem to be as extensive as it is in the US, but no matter how sophisticated the program is, people who produce garbage really need to know what is recyclable, what is compostable, what is trash, etc. So without that comprehensive education, the system fails.

Mirrors in the bathrooms at the "museum" taken from cars and other places, reusable, fabulous! One step in the right direction!

WUJS kiddies sitting on chairs made 100% from recycled materials - crushed soda cans! With wheels on the bottom! This was inside the "museum" building where our tour guide spoke to us.

Sitting in a chair made 100% from recycled materials - rubber filled with plastic grocery bags!

We left Hiriya after our tour and went to Better Place, which is supposedly the center for the revolution of the electric car. I took a field trip here earlier in the semester with Pardes, when we studied the environment through our Social Justice class. I never got my picture driving the actual car, so I was happy to have the opportunity to redeem myself!

It was the last thing we did before heading home for the day. One day, maybe one day, I'll save the world!

Difficulty in Prayer (1/23)

Last week I attended a Lunch n Learn type lecture/discussion at HUC with a visiting rabbi from LA. The topic was "Does God Pray?" He brought in a text indicating that God does pray, and what does he pray for? I found this study session very interesting because I'm still not sure if I believe in God, so what God might pray is an additional layer to consider.

I think belief in God and the idea of praying have both been very much visible to me over the last few months, through studying, having conversations with other people, trying to observe Shabbat in some way shape or form each week that I've been here, and just in my general thought process of life. These questions are both so prevalent in my mind lately, so having a session like this to process was helpful in some way

Tonight we had Judaism class with Rachel Goldberg, our fabulous teacher. I've only missed one or two classes the entire time we've had her as our teacher. She's a great teacher and I'm sad that I won't be able to learn with and from her in a few weeks.

Our topic tonight all things prayer - what is it, who does it, when and why or why not, and we began to delve into the details of the Amidah, the standing personal/private prayer, or the "meat and potatoes" of any prayer service. Next week we will continue learning about the Amidah, some other prayers, and I'm sure we will go on many tangents as we always do.

I took a class last year about liturgy, with women in Westchester through the Federation. When I first started working for Hillels of Westchester, I was invited to their monthly study group. Last year brought us a new teacher, Rabbi Deborah, and a new subject instead of Torah; we studied the prayer book. One of the things we studied was the Kaddish prayer, which is recited for breaks between the services, after the study of Torah, and if you are in mourning. So it's a very familiar prayer, or as I learned in Rabbi Deborah's class, a piece of liturgy. We also studied the structure of the prayer service as implemented by the Rabbis, so they could make sense of life after the destruction of the 2nd Temple. A lot of "prayers" were made into an order and a routine, which I guess I understand now as liturgy. So I did enjoy parts of tonight's class because it referenced some things with which I felt familiar.

The parts of tonight's class (and last week's lunch lecture) were the same parts I still seem to struggle with. I don't know if I believe in God to begin with. So if I don't believe in God, why should I pray and who would I be praying to, and via which method? That is one route I could go down. The other route, if I do believe in God, how do I pray and what am I "supposed" to say or do or think or feel? Judaism has this whole outline for us to follow. There are books that tell you how to do it. It should be so easy. But the way Rachel described prayer tonight was for sure in a different way than I had ever been taught or told before. The Hebrew word for "to pray" is "lehitpalel." Verbs that begin with "lehit" are always reflexive. For example, "lehitkaleach" is "to shower" as in, to wash yourself. "Lehitlabesh" is to dress oneself (where as "lilvosh/lilbosh," which sounds similar but without the "lehit", is to wear). "Palel" is inspection or examining or judging, so "lehitpalel" must be a search within or of oneself. Therefore the verb "lehitpalel" is really representative of a process of ongoing self transformation. Now that is another way of looking at prayer.

I am definitely one to admit that I am very much always in a process of attempting to better myself and attempting to better the world. Does that mean I am praying when I do this? If so, it is certainly not the same way that many people use the word pray, but maybe according to this definition, I do pray. By no means am I perfect; I am far from it. Therefore, in almost every action I do, and when I think about making plans in advance - either with family or friends or for work related purposes - I am always thinking of the consequences and minimizing anything bad that might result. Will someone's feelings get hurt? Will I put someone in an awkward position? Will I end up forcing someone to be late to an important meeting? Does this person really want to talk about what's bothering them or can I just let them come to me when they are ready? Can I do something to change these circumstances for the better? What if I made one more person smile today, wouldn't that bring light to the world?

So maybe I pray more than I think. If we're talking tradition and familiarity with what people know as prayer, I don't do it very often, if ever. But if we're playing the game of semantics, I guess I'm praying all the time. Who knew?

Thinking about the future (1/19)

It hit me today more than any other day. My time in Israel on this program is coming to an end. I have such mixed feelings about it given all that has happened in the last 4 months. I was excited, nervous, scared, and anxious about coming here on September 13th, knowing full well that it would be the longest time I'd be separated from most of my friends, and more importantly my parents. People here keep asking me, "But don't you go to camp each summer?" and "Didn't you spend a time away at college?" The answers to both of those questions are clearly "yes" but the sheer number of months that I have not seen my parents face to face is far beyond any other time of my life. So that was certainly something that was scary and made me anxious.

On the other hand, I had put off doing this program or something like it for about 2 years. After a few years of working for Hillel and still never having spent significant time here, I really thought hard about it. I decided to do another year of work; then my mom convinced me I should do yet ANOTHER year of work, before hopping on a plane and traveling to the other side of the planet for at least half a year. I knew I wanted to do this. I had built up plenty of anticipation about coming. I set out goals for myself to achieve while I was here. Many of them I am still working on. I'll probably be working on them until the day I leave.

After WUJS is done on February 17th, I am looking forward to spending a week on my own in Israel, and then 2 weeks in mainland Europe, traveling to new countries and new cities along the way, then 2 weeks in the UK visiting all sorts of friends from Echo Lake who are natives or currently there, followed by one more week in Israel before heading back to the states. I have a lot in front of me yet to accomplish. I am setting out to continue to maximize every opportunity that comes my way - trying a new restaurant, participating in a field trip, sitting in a lecture, sleeping in on the weekends, keeping in touch with friends and family around the world, enjoying new friendships I have made, maintaining friendships I already have, learning more and more Hebrew, going running and to the gym, having difficult conversations with people who disagree with me on certain issues, making my way to new parts of Jerusalem, spending time with my family in Israel, taking in every opportunity that comes my way.

Wish me luck!

Siyur to the Security Fence (1/11)

WUJS wants us to see the full picture. Well, WUJS wants us to see a full a picture as they can show us. Today our siyur was supposed to be to the Security Fence and to East Jerusalem to better understand the conflict in this city. Well, there was some violence recently in Sheikh Al Jarrah, the neighborhood we were going to visit, due to some recent politics, so that part of the siyur was cancelled. We did go to Gilo, which is considered East Jerusalem (even though geographically it is south!) to view the barrier. Neil Lazarus (who runs seminars and who I actually heard for the first time 7 years ago when I was a student on Birthright), was our "tour guide" and lecturer for the day. He ended up giving us a presentation in our classroom downstairs, in lieu of being able to go to Sheikh Al Jarrah.

I've seen the barrier. I've seen the fence. I've seen the wall. I saw it 7 years ago when I was here for the first time. I've seen it a few times since then, on Birthright trips and being here in WUJS. It is so controversial for so many reasons. Abroad, people say it violates human rights because it limits the mobility of the Palestinians who live on the West Bank side of it. Internally, Israelis say it has dramatically reduced the number of suicide bombers and terrorists coming into the Israeli side of the barrier, and therefore it is necessary. So who's right? Is there a right side? And clearly, I'm referring to right as correct, not right as a political view. I think I've made up my mind that supports the Israelis view. Suicide bomber after suicide bomber means one side gets punished (limited mobility) in order to save the innocent civilians who were being murdered. Do I sympathize with those who just wish to visit family, or go to work, or pick up their kids from school? Sure. But I think the few ruined it for the many, and it's time for the many to stand up to their so-called government, and make their plight a reality. Grass roots is how it is done, and I believe it is something that can be accomplished by the Palestinians, if they truly want independence.

Bilingual School in Jerusalem (1/9)

I just got back from a field trip with my Pardes class (Social Justice) which was to the Bilingual School in Jerusalem, one of only 4 in the country (one in the Galil, one in Be'er Sheva, and the other in an Arab Village in the north) which is a public school run by the Ministry of Education. So it is certainly a special school but not a private school. It is by no means perfect with regard to language or conflict resolution or peace or coexistence, but at this point in my being in Israel, it is perhaps the most optimistic look at all of these topics.

(The sign out front at the school, explaining in three languages, about the school.)

In a 2nd grade classroom, a music teacher instructs in Arabic. We observed this classroom for a few minutes. I was amazed!

Yaffa Shira, one of the 2nd grade teachers there (who is American and made aliyah many years ago) has been at the school for 9 years. Her background is very much in the field of education, and she received her Masters degree from Columbia University for Special Education. When she moved here, she went to the Ministry of Education to get a job and they placed her originally in a secular school but one that still teaches Judaics. She was coming back from maternity leave and therefore looking for a new position, and ended up at this school.

The school started in 1998 with only a few younger grades (Kindergarten and 1st grade I believe) and now the school has classes in Pre-K all the way up to 12th grade. This year is the first year they have a 12th grade class. Every year they kept adding a new class/grade of students, so much so that most if not all grades now have 2 classes of 24-30 students each. The school does its best to include 50% Jewish children and 50% Arab children (of which approximately 1/3 are Christian), and also 50% male and 50% female.

Each classroom has 2 teachers - one that teaches in Hebrew, and one that teaches in Arabic. This includes special programs like art, music, and library (sounds like the same "specials" we had in school in NY). In Kindergarten, 1st, and 2nd grade, the children can respond in class in either language (usually whichever is their 1st and that their parents speak), and as the children get older, they are expected to respond in the language they were asked. Around 3rd or 4th grade, the children are also taught English (as most public schools in Israel do, to my knowledge). I think it's beautiful that these children are taught each other's languages because it is such a primal form of communication - to share happiness and joy, and also sadness and grief or frustration. The school also seems to teach about lots of different culture, including all three major religions' holidays. Will these kids grow up more tolerant of different people, because of their education and exposure? Will they be more educated and worldly wise as a result? I'd say very strongly that this is the case, and they are so lucky to have parents who believe in this type of system (some who are even trying to learn the other language to help their children in school, and to help themselves, hey why not?). It's so few parents in this country that would look toward this type of system as successful. I have found so much racism and discrimination here, not necessarily among individuals, but certainly as a country. Yaffa Shira said it too - legally, there is no difference between Jewish Israelis and Arab Israelis (same rights, same privileges), but in reality, the differences are huge. Arabs are oftentimes doing the dirty work, in jobs that Jews "wouldn't ever have" and I'm sure they are discriminated against in other workplaces or businesses or shopping malls and the like. Some of the Israelis I've spoken to seem to have a deep seeded negative feeling toward all Arabs because of the conflict that is ubiquitous in this place. I can't say I blame them for feeling this way; I certainly don't know what it's like to grow up in a place that for many years had bombings day after day, and even still gets rockets tossed up in the air and land down on the ground on Israeli soil. But hatred cannot be combated with more hatred; it doesn't solve anything. Bringing Jewish Israelis and Arab Israelis together on as equal footing as possible, in a school, from such a young age, has got to be hopeful for the future of peace in the Middle East.

Needless to say, I'm feeling a bit refreshed with the idea of coexistence compared to the last few weeks that I've been struggling with this idea. It's so nice!

Birthright-tastic Extravaganza Weekend! (1/7-1/8)

The Birthright madness has already begun. Groups and buses have been all over the place. I was walking to the garden for my Sunday volunteering when I saw a Hillel Birthright bus in the parking lot of the tayelet/overlook to the Old City. Of course, I stopped to see which group it was and if I knew the staff. I didn't know them but introduced myself, and ended up bumping into the same people later that day. Go figure.

Today, the Birthright madness, was REALLY madness. I made plans with Lisa, from UAlbany Hillel, who is staffing Bus 917, to meet up at the shuk/market for lunch, and spend Shabbat with her (and many others!) at the Shalom Hotel in Jerusalem. I obtained permission to stay overnight in the hotel which made me so happy, because I knew I'd have tons of time to spend with Lisa! I knew the first place at which we would meet was at the shuk/market for lunch on Friday. I wasn't exactly sure of the time, so I planned well in advance to get there early to capitalize any moments I could have with her there. While I was waiting at Cafe Aroma, just killing time, I saw Jordan Diaz, a participant on Bus 866 from a year ago! What a great surprise! He was on an Aish trip and they had free time in the shuk like every other tour bus in the country. He sat with me for about half an hour and we got a little caught up on each other's lives. It was such a nice reunion. He left with his buddies from Aish so he could stay with his group, and when I got the call from Lisa to come and meet her, I ran into Jordan again (with Eric Fox's brother who also was here on a trip) and had Eric's bro take our picture. It was just meant to be. Photo below:

After meeting up with Lisa, we walked over to Marzipan, the BEST place in the world for rugelach. YUM! I promised her in advance that I'd find the Israeli in me and push my way through the lines to get 2 kilos of rugelach for her group's oneg. Mission successful. I gave her the 2 boxes, turn around, and see Joe Davis, Hillel Director at Buffalo, who was a freshman with me in 2001 at UB! So excited to run into him. Photo below:

The day continues, and once Lisa and I make our way out of the crazy pedestrian filled Marzipan area, we make our way to Ichtidana, the vegetarian Indian restaurant in the shuk that I LOVE going to, and know won't be crowded with Birthright students. But who IS there that I know? Alli Mondell! (Photo below.) She is also staffing a trip and is enjoying lunch with her tour educator who knows the owner of the restaurant. I love going here and try to go at least once every other week, because everything there is so tasty and so fresh - from the shuk of course! Lisa loved it also. What's not to love?

After our meal at the restaurant, Rachelle meets up with me so we can figure out how we're getting to the Shalom Hotel to spend Shabbat with our friends, and it turns out that we are allowed to take their tour bus to the hotel! We had planned on taking the public bus but this saved us so much hassle (and a small fare). When we got to the hotel, I wasn't sure which room I'd be staying in, so I brought my things up to Lisa's room anyways; she was sharing with Julia from Cornell that Rachelle wanted to see over Shabbat. This could not have been any more perfect. We changed into our Shabbat outfits and went downstairs to light candles with each of our friend's buses, followed by Kabbalat Shabbat (receiving the Sabbath) services in various rooms in the hotel. We all went to the Reform, partly because Julia was assisting in the leading of the service, and because we heard Lynn Schusterman (of Hillel's International Center and of the Birthright Israel Foundation itself) was going to be there too! I actually did not see her in the room but went nonetheless.

Shabbat dinner involved over 200 people in the hotel's dining room, with lots of blessings over wine and bread, tons of food, and good company - Lisa's students were AWESOME! I definitely enjoyed my conversations with them - most of them wanted to know what I was doing here, so naturally I gave them every detail of WUJS and how I've been spending my time. Some seemed very interested in the idea of life here as opposed to 10 days visiting. I still feel very much like a visitor sometimes because I know I'm going back to NY in a few months, but compared to them I felt like such a local.

After dinner, each bus was assigned a room to go to for an oneg/celebration - Lisa brought the Marzipan and the participants each bought snacks at the shuk that they contributed to the oneg, so there was tons of food and a few bottles of wine to share amongst everyone. I ate way too much. Surprise surprise. When I got back upstairs to their room, basically, we all stayed up way too late having girl chat, cause, well, we're girls and we chat. Too much!

The next day, we slept in until after 11 for the most part. I woke up a little bit before everyone else and stole Lisa's modem to sneak on the internet. Not very Shabbastic but I don't really care. I like being able to use Shabbat to catch up with people and also do some Facebook stalking. Let's be real; it happens. The first thing the students had to be at that day (which meant Lisa, and me of course) was lunch! So I snacked on the pillow cereal (Kariyot I think it's called) with the nougat in the middle. PURE SUGAR! So yummy but probably going straight to my thighs. Oh right, there are no calories on Shabbat! I think I ate about half the box. Then went to lunch and wasn't very hungry! I decided to kill some more time by going back to the room and just kind of hanging out and doing nothing. Dan Yagudin, my Birthright co-staff of bus 811 from January 2009, was in the Jerusalem area, and wanted to come to the hotel to hang out for a little while to say hi to all of us who were there! He arrived around 3pm so we had some time to chat and catch up before Havdallah (the separation ceremony at the end of Shabbat) which was so nice! Unfortunately, we didn't snap a picture of us while we were together, but he tucked me in so nicely under the covers of the super comfy bed we had in the hotel, and Rachelle snapped a picture:

Snug as a bug in a rug. Or something like that.

Havdallah began around 5:30 on the 4th floor roof, which I could see from our 5th floor room. I wasn't quite packed up or dressed for the evening when everyone else scooted down there to do Havdallah, so I stayed in the room to get myself together, clean up the room a little bit, and watched through the window so I could pretend to be a part of the ceremony. Once they were done, I made my way downstairs with Rachelle and Dan so we could leave the hotel for Baka, and meet up with the group again (and each of us had more people to meet) on Ben Yehuda Street! We got in a cab and made our way back to WUJS headquarters.

Dan and I decided to head out a bit earlier than Rachelle, to meet up with some very important people! One of the most important people that I wanted to see was Joel Abramson, who was a freshman at Kent State University when I worked there as a JCSC Fellow in 2005-2006. Not only does he work for a Hillel now (at Virginia Tech), but he also was staffing a trip! I knew he'd be on Ben Yehuda Street with his group at some point that night so I knew I wanted to meet up with him, and we certainly did. It took us a while to actually connect (due mostly to technical difficulties, thanks cell phones that suck) so we were short on time. We went to Burgers Bar so Joel could have a nice kosher burger while in Jerusalem, and although I wasn't that hungry, I got to reap the benefits of him ordering fries - YUM! Before we had to part separate ways, I thought that it would be important to keep this photo tradition going, and I asked someone to snap this photo of us on Ben Yehuda:

A few minutes later, I ran into Alana Kayfetz who was also a JCSC Fellow in 2005-2006, who was back now staffing a trip. I told her Jason Pressberg was also staffing a trip and around. He was a JCSC Fellow in 2006-2007 and has continued to work for Hillel and in the Jewish community since then. He wasn't able to join us, but Alana and I went to Japanika for SUSHI for dinner! Alana took this fabulous photo herself before we wandered down Yaffo Street.

And we ordered the sushi sandwiches (despite the fact that they were unrecommended by our waitress who was hilarious) which I thought were delicious! Alana and I had such a great time catching up with each other about our lives and comparing experiences. It was fabulous! No sushi experience would be complete sans photo, so here goes:

I called Lisa to get my book back from her (I had put it in her bag since I had none!) and to give her one final hug goodbye, so I met her and walked to the top of Ben Yehuda Street and waited for her group to cross the street to board their bus. While I was walking back down the hill to meet up with Rachelle (who was with other friends of hers on Birthright, yes, seriously, every Birthright bus in the country must have been there), I bumped into none other than Rabbi Jason Klein from the University of Maryland Baltimore County Hillel, who was in my rakaz/group of buses when I first staffed a trip, with Bus 601. SNAP!

Whew! What a weekend! What an experience! From the shuk to Ben Yehuda and all in between. And with all the pictures I took all weekend, I don't have a single one with Lisa. How'd that happen?

My American Cell Phone Number (1/7)

Today I signed my Camp Echo Lake summer 2011 contract to receive the early contract signing bonus (WAHOO!) which meant that I went online to review my contract, it's stipulations, and make sure that my contact information was up to date. I looked at every field on the contract, including my home address (mom and dad), my "college" address (my NYC apartment), and my phone numbers, both home (mom and dad) and my own (cell phone). It really took me a few minutes to figure out what number that was next to the field saying "cell phone number." I looked at it, thought, hmm, this looks kind of like my number here, but it's not. But it has a lot of 6s in it. What number is that? Whose number is that? It's not my phone number. Wait, is it? Wow, have I really forgotten what my American cell phone number is? It's been way too long people, way too long.

Pardes Field trip to South Tel Aviv (1/6)

This afternoon and evening, our Social Justice class at Pardes took a field trip to South Tel Aviv. Not for partying, not for fun, but to learn about asylum seekers, refugees, and victims of human trafficking.

Meesh, my teacher, asked Jean Marc, a Pardes alumnus and current human rights lawyer, to lead our tour today. Not only was he absolutely fabulous, explanatory, and great at answering questions, but I had also met him at Rachel Goldberg's house (she is our Judaism teacher on Sunday nights) when he popped in quickly to say hello. So it seems he is well networked in the Jerusalem area!

He introduced himself and the topic of the day on our bus ride to TA, so as not to waste any time once we arrived there. We all quickly introduced ourselves to explain where we come from and why we are interested in social justice, to help give him an idea of who we were as his audience. The first place we stopped at was an upscale furniture/home goods store which he said was the kind of place that would probably not be visited by anyone we were talking about today. Way too fancy for that. Lucky for me, dun dun dun...I recognized the guy sitting outside the store, who was Assaf, my guard on Birthright 2 years ago! So while my classmates were all inside perusing the items, I was catching up with him and telling him what I was doing here. It was great to see him, and I don't really think I needed to go inside the store anyway.

Our next stop was to the central bus station in Tel Aviv, which has many stores inside (similar to a mall, just like the Jerusalem bus station as well) that in some clusters, cater to specific populations. One of the floors we went through was very much so targeted at Southeast Asians who are in Israel for a multitude of reasons - forced or coerced labor, migrant workers, providing home care, or others seeking asylum here. There were shops selling phone cards to call Southeast Asian countries, stores with Southeast Asian staff (to lure in similar people); it seemed very intentional. I haven't spent all that much time in Tel Aviv, since I've been here, so I certainly haven't spent so much time at the bus station, let alone looking specifically at these stores, so it was very interesting to see how targeted it really was.

We left the bus station and sat down for a few minutes near a park/playground, where there were lots of Africans/Christians, who also are asylum seekers for many reasons. Either they come from countries that are wartorn and unsafe to live in, or they come here for economic reasons. Whatever the reason is, the point was that in south Tel Aviv, there aren't the same types of Jews as we've/I've seen in Jerusalem. These are all people who are not Jewish, who are coming to Israel, and who are not planning on being Jewish. It's a huge problem when you think about the numbers and statistics of non-Jews living in the Jewish homeland. If Israel lets in all these people (because oftentimes Israel is "the bigger person" trying to do "the right thing" for asylum seekers or other neglected populations), then a serious question arises: what is a Jewish homeland with a Jewish minority? We are supposed to be the majority here, but Israel is a democracy, the only one in the Middle East. Arabs who are citizens have the same rights as Jewish Israelis. There are Arabs in the Knesset/Parliament and at least one Arab who sits on the Supreme Court. Many Arabs serve in the Israeli army. If Israel keeps absorbing more Arabs, more Christians, more Africans, more Southeast Asians, the Jews will be a minority once again. What then, is the point of having a Jewish homeland?

Serious questions to ponder, through and through. Our next stop is to a pedestrian mall area that has a computer accessories store and Jean Marc knows the owner of the shop. He is a Darfurian refugee who came here about 4 years ago with his family (which includes 4 children) who is seeking asylum. He has had great difficulty in acclimating to this country and lifestyle and culture, but happy to at least be here temporarily. I asked him the question - would he go back to Darfur if the political situation (and safety) changed miraculously, or is he adjusted here in Israel well enough that he wouldn't want to uproot his family again. Without even blinking, he said he would want to go back. It gave me the impression that he has probably experienced a great deal of discrimination here, either because of his skin color, or the language barrier (he said he's learning Hebrew, and his children are all in schools where they learn Hebrew too), or because he is a refugee and not a full citizen, or because he isn't Jewish. I'm not sure if there is one reason to point to, but certainly he would prefer to be in his country with his people. I can't blame him.

We walked through the pedestrian mall area, which was really filled with all kinds of different looking people, mostly Southeast Asians and Africans, that I saw. I walked with Jean Marc through part of it, asking him some questions about the refugee situation, and mentioned that it didn't look so Israeli, but rather it looked very NYC. NYC has such a diverse population that I don't usually think twice about walking down a street with people of different skin colors or backgrounds or languages or cultures. I actually felt kind of at home on this street, that may have made some people feel very uncomfortable. I had no problem with it.

We got to the African Refugee Development Center (photo above) to meet two Rwandan refugees trying to gain refugee status in Israel due to an awful climate in Rwanda to which they cannot return. They have both seen all kinds of strife, including lots of blood and death and violence and abuse that thankfully I have never witnessed and hopefully never will. The first one, who for identity concealment I will call "H," told his story about how he got here, which included leaving Rwanda a few years ago, spending some amount of time in Egypt (it was unclear to me how long) which was excruciating and he endured some very tough times there, to say the least, before entering Israel, about which he cannot say enough good things. "Israelis are nice, Israel is nice, this place is so nice." All he wants is to gain refugee status so he can legally stay here (which grants him the privilege to work and therefore live here without fear of deportation), but because of the definition and semantics and politics of refugee status in this country, he has initially been rejected as a refugee because at one point he did have asylum in Egypt, which is not a war torn country like Rwanda. I can't blame Israel for trying to keep some people out (for the list of reasons they have) when, as a country, they have the right to say who is allowed in and who must leave, and for issues of majority/minority populations, etc. But hearing his story just made me feel for him so much. I had tears in my eyes multiple times when he was telling his story and answering questions afterward.

The power of a story. The power of one person. The power of the voice and the language. It just hit me like a ton of bricks that my life has been and probably will be ever so different from H. I will never know what it's like to be in his position. And the way he spoke about Israel and Israelis was so refreshing. "Someone bumps into you by mistake and says, 'slicha'/excuse me. Israelis are so nice." We all started laughing and said, "What kind of Israelis are you meeting?" We all know Israelis to be rude and pushy, because for the most part, in America, people are not like that. His experience here has been so vastly different.

He described this place as a paradise almost, which, I guess many people think, and I thought at some point. But living here, I've been fairly cynical and skeptical and critical, of a lot of things. I guess I have been kind of negative in my attitude toward a lot of aspects of Israeli society. Clearly America is not perfect; neither is life in NYC. But in the first few weeks of being here in a new city and a new country, I made my list of reasons why I could probably never live here, mostly in comparison to my life back home. Israelis are rude and pushy, the drivers are crazy, the Haredim disrespect and do not acknowledge other Jews as Jews, the country claims to be so green friendly when they don't recycle half the things I do back home, there is garbage and dog poop everywhere on the street, cats on every corner and in every dumpster, the language is hard to learn, and on top of all that, most of my family and friends are in NY so I probably won't even move very far from there let alone 6,000 miles away across an ocean. The list goes on and on. I think I've forgotten a little bit, what are the good things about being here (which include being in a Jewish majority and feeling very comfortable with that, people who do want to help you learn Hebrew if you put in the effort, fresh produce at the shuk/market and the grocery stores, babies everywhere, casual attire for work, in most cases a laid back atmosphere, getting to celebrate Shabbat every week without having to worry about leaving work early on a Friday) and also, how lucky I am to live the privileged life I've led.

The second refugee we met, who I will call "I," also had a compelling story to hear. He had also left Rwanda due to the civil war and also spent some time in Egypt on his way here. He saw blood an death and violence too, before arriving in Israel. His refugee status is slower in the process compared to H because he arrived later. He is also hoping to gain refugee status here so he can work legally and not fear that he will be taken by the police and/or deported.

The two of them live together, both have work, at least temporarily. I felt incredibly lucky to hear their personal stories and very moved by their honesty. H sent an email back to another student in the class who sent him some photos from the day via email. His message included the following: "I am very glad to read from you and I am very excited with our pictures, I am feeling like we are together again, it was my greatest day. I wish I can get chance to be meet all of u again, whenever and wherever. I pray alot so that I will be granted more days to live here in Israel so that maybe one day I can see you again. Thank you so much again, and with best wishes; God bless u."

My heart will continue to think about these two men who so bravely told us their stories to let us in to the world they know. I consider myself blessed to be living the life I have been living, as well as blessed to hear their stories which have enriched my life.

Field trip to Hevron (1/4)

Cousin Debbie invited me to join her students on the Aardvark Israel gap-year program (http://www.aardvarkisrael.com/) to a siyur/field trip to Hevron today. WUJS is taking us there in a few weeks but Debbie had Yael (my 7 year old cousin) coming as well, and I wasn't missing out on much else going on in the WUJS program, so of course I said YES!

Before this morning, I knew very little about Hevron. It's where the Cave of the Patriarchs (and Matriarchs) is, and it is a very controversial piece of land. Well, everything these days in Israel seems controversial but this one for pretty substantial reasons. As much as I understood, Hevron is a historical and holy site for Jews, but a heavily populated Arab area, hence the controversy. Another significant aspect of Hevron is that Ma'arat HaMachpela (the Cave of the Patriarchs) was the first piece of land ever purchased by a Jew - Avraham. According to the Torah, he purchased the land there to bury Sarah, for 400 silver shkalim (about $700,000 in today's currency), even after it was offered to him as a gift. Avraham still made the purchase, and made it a significant one, perhaps to ensure that this place would never be disputed. Unfortunately that has not been the case, and Jews only have access to a small portion of Hevron and the Cave.

Apparently, it also is the site for the Tombs of Ruth and Yishai (Jesse) from biblical times.

Of course I got SO excited when I saw the painting for Kever Ruth, the Tomb of Ruth, and I recognized the words immediately. I should also point out that no one really knows if Ruth and Yishai are buried here but it is thought to be a strong possibility. Anyway, the fact that my namesake might be buried here got me very excited!

We saw the tomb on our tour of Tel Romeda, which included some ancient sites and buildings, plus the modern homes and caravans that people live in today. It was certainly interesting to see the difference in the old and new, almost superimposed on top of each other. One of the best things about being here and studying this land is that literally you can dig deeper to find layers of history.

David Wilder, the official spokesperson for the Jewish settlers in Hevron and tour guide for the day, gave us some background information on the Ma'arat HaMachpela, which really is a building atop the cave itself. For a certain period of time (1920 something until 1967 I believe), Jews didn't even have access to this amazing and holy site - how unfair it is. But this is why he believes that Jews must have a presence in Hevron; if they leave, the Arabs who live there will take control of the cave and not allow access to Jews like they once did.

A tapestry on the wall that in Hebrew reads something like: The Tomb of the Patriarchs is like the opening to the Garden of Eden.

Each of the patriarchs and matriarchs has a memorial (it is actually above where they are buried, since the building is on top of the cave, so the memorial is not the cave itself); this one is of "Sarah our mother." People come to pray here, either in one of the rooms or in all of them. I found this moment to be pretty powerful.

Ruth, Yael, and Debbie in front of Ma'arat HaMachpela, everyone wearing a scarf of mine, since I was generous with the extras I had; we needed them in the chilly weather. I had to get this picture to make sure I documented my visit. I can't believe how tall I look compared to Yael and Debbie in this picture!

We departed from Ma'arat HaMachpela and had lunch outside the museum at Gush Etzion (the Etzion Block), another settlement in the area. We went inside to see the museum, which was mostly just a video describing the plight of the settlers in the Gush Etzion area, from pre-1948 and through all the wars and violence and defenses they had to put up to hold their land. Although it wasn't exactly along the lines of Hevron (no clear holy site), I think the people who lived there and fought to do so, were along the same lines. Mentality, ideology, and ruach/spirit all matched up. It certainly opened my eyes to a bit more of the "right wing" side of the political spectrum in terms of issues of land. Jewish presence in many of these areas is critical according to those that live there. Even though I may not be in full agreement about having a Jewish presence everywhere that a Jewish presence exists, I can certainly see a different side of things.

Upon departure from the museum, we went to the yeshiva at Gush Etzion, to meet one of the rabbis who lives in Alon Shevut, another local settlement, hoping to hear from him about his opinions on the conflict, but he mostly spoke about yeshiva life and what goes on there on a daily basis. We saw a few classrooms and overlooked the Beit Midrash (house of study) which at the time was relatively quiet due to students being on an afternoon break, but normally is filled with noise because of all the conversations about the learning going on. I think it was great for the students on Aardvark to hear about yeshiva life, because they were probably not as exposed to the concept as I have, especially having the opportunity to study at Pardes this year. I was hoping to hear more about his opinions on land and the conflicts that have arisen as a result of settlements and land ownership, but I guess hearing from David Wilder was enough for one day!

Thank you to Aardvark and Debbie for allowing me to be a part of this. It certainly has added to the multitude of topics I'm thinking about on a daily basis as a result of exposing myself to as much material as possible.

Buses in Jerusalem (1/3)

Today I saw the first female bus driver I've seen in this city, in this country. It took me a second to realize that it actually was a woman driving (not my bus, but stopped at a light to talk to the driver of mine) and I was almost in shock.

I'm all for feminism and women's equal rights, as most people know, but I hadn't seen it yet so I was definitely caught by surprise.

Happy New Year! (1/1)

New Year's in Israel is not the most widely celebrated holiday in the world. The "new year" here is Rosh Hashanah (the head of the year), celebrated around September in the English calendar, among religious and secular Israelis (and all of the rest of 'em in between). So when December 31st is approaching, no one really thinks of it as anything. If more secular places in Israel celebrate New Years more than others, Jerusalem certainly would not be on the list of places celebrating because there are so many people in the city and the area that don't really consider December 31st to be the end of a year. So in thinking about my New Year's celebration this year, I knew I'd have to keep that in mind. On top of that, New Year's Eve was on a Friday night this year, on Shabbat. Therefore, any families or people that may even celebrate New Year's Eve (for whatever reasons) but who also observe the Sabbath, were not going to watch TV for any sort of countdown until midnight, or play music and have a dance party until the clock strikes 12, and any establishment (restaurant or bar) that is closed on Shabbat but would have celebrated New Year's Eve had it come on another day of the week, also was not going to celebrate. Not so easy being a secular Jewish American in Jerusalem for New Year's Eve.

Needless to say, I ended up being invited to a friend's apartment with a ton of other Americans (mostly who are here on various programs or studying in institutions or seminaries) for a post-Shabbat New Year's Eve party, and I went and had a good time to bring in 2011 in as festive a way as possible given these circumstances.