It occurred to me that the raison d'etre of this blog may have disappeared with my return to the US. At the very least, the header has to change.
But I have enjoyed writing this blog so much that I think I'm just going to keep on keepin on with it. I'm hoping to transition to interesting things I've learned here and there and everywhere I go. My readership may transition from Americans to my Israeli friends who I can't speak with as regularly as I'd like, but that's fine.
So keep reading, if you've been reading. Transition with me.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
NYC and Important Teachers
Today I walked from the B home, where I am staying, across town to a doctor's appointment and then all the way down to the Lower East side, stopping at every interesting shop along the way. Boy are my legs tired! But it was great. This city still has so much for me to explore. I lived here for only one semester, so there are always new secrets each time I visit.
On a totally unrelated note, a very important teacher/figure/role model in my life has passed away. He may have been the first teacher to really "get" me, he certainly singled me out for my enthusiasm and he never failed to communicate in a way that spoke directly to me. Yes, he was guilty of making other students cry, but for me he had a straight arrow approach that worked. Mr. Hart, my constitution team coach, passed away. His influence on my life was enormous. Even for my Dorot application, I wrote about him when I mentioned Important People in My Life. Excerpted below:
Describe an individual who has had a significant impact upon you. Mr. Hart served as my coach for a competitive academic high school team called the “We The People” in which students testified before a panel of judges on topics relating to constitutional law. Mr. Hart preferred not to teach technicalities; rather he sought to ignite passion for legal understanding. To that end, he encouraged me to channel my energy into confidence and critical thinking. From him I learned to stand up straight, roll my shoulders back, rest my arms at my sides with my thumbs along my outer pant seams, and give my opinion in an unwavering voice.
May your memory be for a blessing. I will never forget you.
On a totally unrelated note, a very important teacher/figure/role model in my life has passed away. He may have been the first teacher to really "get" me, he certainly singled me out for my enthusiasm and he never failed to communicate in a way that spoke directly to me. Yes, he was guilty of making other students cry, but for me he had a straight arrow approach that worked. Mr. Hart, my constitution team coach, passed away. His influence on my life was enormous. Even for my Dorot application, I wrote about him when I mentioned Important People in My Life. Excerpted below:
Describe an individual who has had a significant impact upon you. Mr. Hart served as my coach for a competitive academic high school team called the “We The People” in which students testified before a panel of judges on topics relating to constitutional law. Mr. Hart preferred not to teach technicalities; rather he sought to ignite passion for legal understanding. To that end, he encouraged me to channel my energy into confidence and critical thinking. From him I learned to stand up straight, roll my shoulders back, rest my arms at my sides with my thumbs along my outer pant seams, and give my opinion in an unwavering voice.
May your memory be for a blessing. I will never forget you.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Safely and Soundly
Arrived safely and soundly in another eir hakodesh, Manhattan. I would even recommend Olympic Airlines to my friends.
Shavua Tov, Myrrh
Shavua Tov, Myrrh
Friday, May 25, 2007
One of Those Posts
This is going to be one of those posts where I talk about what I don't have time to write about.
The prompt was to write about memories, real or imagined, this year.
To employers, it was a year of dedicated research where I crunched numbers for a cutting edge think tank and brokered peace negotiations between Jordanian, Palestinian and Israeli counterparts.
To my girlfriends, I give details of the dark skinned Turkish/Iraqi man who shared with me the secrets of the north with romantic hikes and showered me with chivalry and attention.
To my dad, I chronicle the texts that tingled my brain and heart. The mechilta about Divine fire or the Heschel on holy time. I remind him that it is only the beginning of a lifelong process.
To my mom, I mention the dream roommates who took care of me when I was sick, helped me fight the landlord, covered my errors when I nearly broke the washing machine, and taught me the way to make hatzilim al ha'esh, proper pronunciation and all.
To my rough and tumble brothers, I show pictures of the apple trees I hauled from here to there and demonstrate how strong I really am.
To my spiritual community, I read Torah and daven with renewed confidence, a broader range of tunes and better Hebrew and they will know. I won't have to say anything else.
But I don't know if I will tell the other real story, the one of quiet meditation and introspection. I don't know if I will vocalize the vignette of longing and loneliness or the sweet poem of new personal realities. Indeed, I know that by telling the other stories, they will preside over the court of history determining what will stay in office and what will be termed out.
How can I still hold on to those memories that are for me and no one else?
Shabbat shalom, one last time, from Jtown.
- I'm still assimilating my thoughts on Shavuot, the land, and Shmitta which are all wrapped up in my head, including a very ugly secret I must share about my personal shmitta violation.
- I want to tell you what I thought about making pilgrimage to the Kotel one last time with hordes of tired davenners.
- I have a dozen half—written posts on everything from geshem, to translating my own hasidic stories, to the bar scene in Tel Aviv.
- I'm composing some wrap up observations of this wacky time in Jtown, including what's next.
The prompt was to write about memories, real or imagined, this year.
To employers, it was a year of dedicated research where I crunched numbers for a cutting edge think tank and brokered peace negotiations between Jordanian, Palestinian and Israeli counterparts.
To my girlfriends, I give details of the dark skinned Turkish/Iraqi man who shared with me the secrets of the north with romantic hikes and showered me with chivalry and attention.
To my dad, I chronicle the texts that tingled my brain and heart. The mechilta about Divine fire or the Heschel on holy time. I remind him that it is only the beginning of a lifelong process.
To my mom, I mention the dream roommates who took care of me when I was sick, helped me fight the landlord, covered my errors when I nearly broke the washing machine, and taught me the way to make hatzilim al ha'esh, proper pronunciation and all.
To my rough and tumble brothers, I show pictures of the apple trees I hauled from here to there and demonstrate how strong I really am.
To my spiritual community, I read Torah and daven with renewed confidence, a broader range of tunes and better Hebrew and they will know. I won't have to say anything else.
But I don't know if I will tell the other real story, the one of quiet meditation and introspection. I don't know if I will vocalize the vignette of longing and loneliness or the sweet poem of new personal realities. Indeed, I know that by telling the other stories, they will preside over the court of history determining what will stay in office and what will be termed out.
How can I still hold on to those memories that are for me and no one else?
Shabbat shalom, one last time, from Jtown.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The Big, Big News
I feel like every few months or so I email a massive group of people titled, "The Big News" saying something like, "Hey what's up? I'd love to hear from you, but I also wanted to let you know that I'm moving to a new country, or I'm starting a new phase in my life, or I'm becoming a nun. (Ok, never that last one.) Be in touch. Love, Myrrh."
Well, all the news I've ever had to report is peanuts compared to The Big, Big News that my lil bro laid on me about two weeks ago. He rowed his honey out to a secluded place in the lake in Central Park and proposed. Yes, my lil bro, with whom I *almost* share initials, who I pushed kicking and screaming to his first debate tournament, and who now calls me his little sis because he's pushing 6 feet tall, is beating me to the chupah. Those I. boys are the marryin kind, I guess. And his beloved, DC, who I will try to remember to call the why-do-we-have-to-eat-so-much-humus? traveler, is going to be a wonderful addition to our family, fortifying the vegetarian ranks at family occasions, among other stealthy and critical roles. Basically, I'm thrilled!! Mazal Tov to the happy couple!!
You can send any gifts to my address and I'll *ahem* forward them on....
Eema, you know what this means? You, your husband, progeny, and their progeny will now be 11 around the shabbat table. All I'm saying is that I'm not gonna sit at the kiddie table just because I don't have a partner yet.
Well, all the news I've ever had to report is peanuts compared to The Big, Big News that my lil bro laid on me about two weeks ago. He rowed his honey out to a secluded place in the lake in Central Park and proposed. Yes, my lil bro, with whom I *almost* share initials, who I pushed kicking and screaming to his first debate tournament, and who now calls me his little sis because he's pushing 6 feet tall, is beating me to the chupah. Those I. boys are the marryin kind, I guess. And his beloved, DC, who I will try to remember to call the why-do-we-have-to-eat-so-much-humus? traveler, is going to be a wonderful addition to our family, fortifying the vegetarian ranks at family occasions, among other stealthy and critical roles. Basically, I'm thrilled!! Mazal Tov to the happy couple!!
You can send any gifts to my address and I'll *ahem* forward them on....
Eema, you know what this means? You, your husband, progeny, and their progeny will now be 11 around the shabbat table. All I'm saying is that I'm not gonna sit at the kiddie table just because I don't have a partner yet.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Shavuot: Vegetarian Dream Holiday
If I was into cheesecake, I'd be into this recipe. From haaretz.com:
The saltiness of pretzels balances the sweetness of Nutella and creates a surprising base for a delicious cheesecake.
Ingredients (for a 22 cm spring form pan):
For the base:
150 grams salted pretzels
1/2 cup Nutella spread
75 grams butter
For the filling:
4 eggs
1 cup sugar
500 grams white cheese (9 percent fat)
200 grams cream cheese
1 tablespoon grated lemon peel
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon cornflour
For the glaze:
100 grams bittersweet chocolate
2 teaspoons milk
200 grams sour cream
Preparation:
Prepare the base: In a food processor, grind the base ingredients to crumbs (not a powder). Line the bottom of the pan with baking paper. With moist hands, pat the mixture uniformly into the pan and cool for an hour in the refrigerator.
Prepare the filling: In a bowl, whip the eggs and sugar into a very pale mixture (beat for atl least five minutes in an electric mixer). Add the white cheese, cream cheese and grated lemon peel and mix. Dissolve the cornflour in the lemon juice, add to the mixture and blend well.
Pour the egg and cheese mixture on top of the base and bake at 150 degrees Celcius until the cake sets (about 50 minutes). Chill the cake for at least five hours in the refrigerator. If you would like to glaze the cake, mix the chocolate with the milk and melt (over steam or carefully in the microwave). Add the sour cream and mix well. Spread the glaze carefully over the cake and chill for at least an hour before serving.
Doramg@haaretz.co.il Yowzas!
The saltiness of pretzels balances the sweetness of Nutella and creates a surprising base for a delicious cheesecake.
Ingredients (for a 22 cm spring form pan):
For the base:
150 grams salted pretzels
1/2 cup Nutella spread
75 grams butter
For the filling:
4 eggs
1 cup sugar
500 grams white cheese (9 percent fat)
200 grams cream cheese
1 tablespoon grated lemon peel
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon cornflour
For the glaze:
100 grams bittersweet chocolate
2 teaspoons milk
200 grams sour cream
Preparation:
Prepare the base: In a food processor, grind the base ingredients to crumbs (not a powder). Line the bottom of the pan with baking paper. With moist hands, pat the mixture uniformly into the pan and cool for an hour in the refrigerator.
Prepare the filling: In a bowl, whip the eggs and sugar into a very pale mixture (beat for atl least five minutes in an electric mixer). Add the white cheese, cream cheese and grated lemon peel and mix. Dissolve the cornflour in the lemon juice, add to the mixture and blend well.
Pour the egg and cheese mixture on top of the base and bake at 150 degrees Celcius until the cake sets (about 50 minutes). Chill the cake for at least five hours in the refrigerator. If you would like to glaze the cake, mix the chocolate with the milk and melt (over steam or carefully in the microwave). Add the sour cream and mix well. Spread the glaze carefully over the cake and chill for at least an hour before serving.
Doramg@haaretz.co.il Yowzas!
Monday, May 21, 2007
Moral Quandary Roundup
Moral Quandary #1: You are sitting in a restaurant at a table for four. Halfway through your meal, a group of 4 gentlemen in wheelchairs enter the restaurant. These aren't normal wheelchairs, but rather ones with gigantic mechanisms on the back to support folks with serious needs. It is a busy night. You overhear the waitress say to the group that the only empty table that can accommodate them is reserved. If you offer your table, you will probably be reseated outside on a chilly night, or even may have to wait for reseating. What are your moral responsibilities as the diner or as the waitress?
** ACTUAL DISCLAIMER: A similar situation happened to me, except I was at a table for two that also could not accommodate the group.***
Moral Quandary #2: You are me (not rich, but not worried about where the next meal is coming from) and you are soon departing Israel for galut. Yeehaw! You have things/objects that are not worth taking home such as a down comforter, a lighter blanket, a full set of dairy dishes, bedding, pillows, etc. There are a number of things you could do with the stuff. You could:
a) donate it to a local charity;
b) give it to someone you know in Jtown, either a friend or a family that has been generous to you;
c) give it to members of your own family in Israel;
d) try to put it in circulation for someone with your fellowship next year; or
e) try to sell it.
What to do?
Moral Quandary #3: Given the previous post, I am now not responsible for finding anyone else to fill my room. My roommates, however, will still have to approve/meet any incoming person in the apartment. Should they abstain from mentioning some of the terrible difficulties they have had with the landlord in order to facilitate finding a person to fill the room, or should they fully disclose the bad relationship making it unlikely that anyone will take the room? What information do they owe a potential roommate and what confidence should they provide their landlord?
** ACTUAL DISCLAIMER: A similar situation happened to me, except I was at a table for two that also could not accommodate the group.***
Moral Quandary #2: You are me (not rich, but not worried about where the next meal is coming from) and you are soon departing Israel for galut. Yeehaw! You have things/objects that are not worth taking home such as a down comforter, a lighter blanket, a full set of dairy dishes, bedding, pillows, etc. There are a number of things you could do with the stuff. You could:
a) donate it to a local charity;
b) give it to someone you know in Jtown, either a friend or a family that has been generous to you;
c) give it to members of your own family in Israel;
d) try to put it in circulation for someone with your fellowship next year; or
e) try to sell it.
What to do?
Moral Quandary #3: Given the previous post, I am now not responsible for finding anyone else to fill my room. My roommates, however, will still have to approve/meet any incoming person in the apartment. Should they abstain from mentioning some of the terrible difficulties they have had with the landlord in order to facilitate finding a person to fill the room, or should they fully disclose the bad relationship making it unlikely that anyone will take the room? What information do they owe a potential roommate and what confidence should they provide their landlord?
My landlord, the thief
My grandfather, who lived in Palestine before the creation of the state, used to say that he didn't like this place because everyone was a wise guy, everyone was out for himself. Guess what, Saba? Nothing has changed.
Grievances to my landlord starting with most significant:
*** UPDATE***: My landlord has agreed to both allow me to break my lease and take responsibility herself for finding a replacement. Whew! Now I just have to get her to sign something that makes it all clear.***
Grievances to my landlord starting with most significant:
- When I called to tell you that I was starting to look for someone to take over my lease 2 months ago (something we agree upon when I moved in back in September) you FAILED to tell me that you intended to steeply raise the rent.
- You dealt so insensitively with the people who I have found to take over my lease, that no one wants to move in to this apartment.
- You spent a month hemming and hawing, not repairing one of the toilets, until the other one also broke. You then admitted that something had to be done but up till this point have not paid the plumber who fixed it.
- You refuse to bring a plumber in to fix the permanent leak we have in one of the bathrooms. Ick.
- You stole a copy of the parking gate key so you continue parking in our lot despite the fact that you no longer have ANY right to it. If you want to park in the lot, you can start paying our vaad bayit bill that repairs it.
- First you put a refrigerator in the apartment that didn't fit into the kitchen. Duh. Then you put a proper fitting refrig in the apartment, but it came unmentionably dirty, without the bottom drawers and without the little guards on the door shelves. Yes, we got drawers. Oh yea, and it tempermentally dies periodically.
- When you put a bed in my room, you furnished it with two unmatched mattresses so for one year I have had a gigantic difference between the two sides of my bed.
- You left all sorts of random junk in the boyden, and in other furniture, including a record collection, old gross alcohol, and random dishwear.
- You never took the old bed frame out of the apartment, but rather just stored it on our mirpesest, taking up space.
- You maintain this address for much of your official mail, so we have to deal with it for you.
- You left this apartment disgustingly dirty and don't realize how you have the best tenants in the world to protect your investment. We clean more than you ever did.
*** UPDATE***: My landlord has agreed to both allow me to break my lease and take responsibility herself for finding a replacement. Whew! Now I just have to get her to sign something that makes it all clear.***
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Heartbreaking and Inspiring
I don't have any time to write anything even remotely interesting at the moment, so I'm directing you to a friend's blog who writes a devastating story about one of her students in SF. Read with care... your heart may be in jeopardy of breaking.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Last night I had some folks over for my last hosted meal in Jtown. This morning I read Torah to commemorate my 14 years anniversary of my Bat Mitzvah and this afternoon I headed to a friends' house where there was much singing, dining and political interchange. Just a regular shabbat in the holy land.
As I begin to pack my stuff and say goodbye to my roommates, my home, my friends and teachers, my gardens and my vistas, I'm struck by how this city and country will always be a second home to me. I've lived other places longer. Heck, I spent 3 1/2 academic years in Claremont, CA and 13 years in suburban New York, and neither one are mine like Jtown will always be.
How does a place become a home? Why does SF resonate as home, where other abodes were simply residences? Is it because there are people similar to you or because you comfortably deviate from the norm?
The concept of "home" has been on the mind as I prepare to move *again* but this time to a place where I will probably stay for a while, at least 3 years. Can a place feel like a home if a series of roommates move in and out? Can I make a home in tiny studio? What does the physical space need to become mine?
Some lessons I've learned by moving throughout the past few years:
As I begin to pack my stuff and say goodbye to my roommates, my home, my friends and teachers, my gardens and my vistas, I'm struck by how this city and country will always be a second home to me. I've lived other places longer. Heck, I spent 3 1/2 academic years in Claremont, CA and 13 years in suburban New York, and neither one are mine like Jtown will always be.
How does a place become a home? Why does SF resonate as home, where other abodes were simply residences? Is it because there are people similar to you or because you comfortably deviate from the norm?
The concept of "home" has been on the mind as I prepare to move *again* but this time to a place where I will probably stay for a while, at least 3 years. Can a place feel like a home if a series of roommates move in and out? Can I make a home in tiny studio? What does the physical space need to become mine?
Some lessons I've learned by moving throughout the past few years:
- Planting and growing things make a place homelike. At the moment, I'm interviewing perspective adoptive parents for my basil and nana. Let me know if you are interested. References requested. (*snicker*) You can't take them with you.
- Home seems to have less to do with expensive matching items, and more to do with pure comfort.
- True homes are always easily made ready for dinner or overnight guests.
- Good lighting, important.
- Bright colors, essential.
- LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Yom Yerushalayim in the Rain
Yesterday a close family friend visited. His last real experience in Jtown was in the 1950's, so I spent some quality time with him recounting what was and wasn't in my neighborhood half a century ago. Late into dinner he verbalized what I had been thinking for hours. "Do you think that tomorrow [today] will be dangerous here in Jtown? It is Yom Yerushalayim, after all."
In fact, I'd been considering that situation for weeks. There are posters and flags everywhere commemorating 40 years of Jtown's "reunification". It would be the perfect time for the Palestinians to protest the occupation in some sort of unified manner, possibly with violence. I was a sitting duck.
This morning I woke and remarked that the weather was sort of weird. There was high pressure and low, grey clouds. And then it started to rain. Strange. Minutes later it downpoured with heavy and windy rain. The rain managed to sneak into my apartment via the porch and flood the living room.
I was annoyed. I had to walk across town for a meeting and my rainjacket was recently stolen (in the Likud headquarters in TA, long story.) I arrived wet. The rain also meant that the honking outside my apartment was amplified. No one understood what was going on. It is May, for God's sake. We stopped praying for rain on Pesach.
One of my friends remarked that we [humanity] may have broken the weather. We will tell our children that in the summer it used to be summery and in the winter it was wintery and they won't have ANY idea what we are talking about. Oy!
And while I'm sure that we actually have "broken" the weather, there was something else at play. Last week we experienced that crazy hot, over 100 degree weather. That kind of heat makes people agitated and incites them to do crazy, radical, stupid things. It was as if God looked down on Jtown today and said, "Oh yea, time to cool things off." Ceremonies are good places for potential violence; the main government ceremony was canceled today due to the weather. And furthermore, it shouldn't be such a celebration anyway. Something should literally come from the sky to mute the energy.
Sometimes the Divine hand is more obvious than other times. And sometimes chance makes things happen the way they should.
In fact, I'd been considering that situation for weeks. There are posters and flags everywhere commemorating 40 years of Jtown's "reunification". It would be the perfect time for the Palestinians to protest the occupation in some sort of unified manner, possibly with violence. I was a sitting duck.
This morning I woke and remarked that the weather was sort of weird. There was high pressure and low, grey clouds. And then it started to rain. Strange. Minutes later it downpoured with heavy and windy rain. The rain managed to sneak into my apartment via the porch and flood the living room.
I was annoyed. I had to walk across town for a meeting and my rainjacket was recently stolen (in the Likud headquarters in TA, long story.) I arrived wet. The rain also meant that the honking outside my apartment was amplified. No one understood what was going on. It is May, for God's sake. We stopped praying for rain on Pesach.
One of my friends remarked that we [humanity] may have broken the weather. We will tell our children that in the summer it used to be summery and in the winter it was wintery and they won't have ANY idea what we are talking about. Oy!
And while I'm sure that we actually have "broken" the weather, there was something else at play. Last week we experienced that crazy hot, over 100 degree weather. That kind of heat makes people agitated and incites them to do crazy, radical, stupid things. It was as if God looked down on Jtown today and said, "Oh yea, time to cool things off." Ceremonies are good places for potential violence; the main government ceremony was canceled today due to the weather. And furthermore, it shouldn't be such a celebration anyway. Something should literally come from the sky to mute the energy.
Sometimes the Divine hand is more obvious than other times. And sometimes chance makes things happen the way they should.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Birthday Review
The birthday was terrific. It involved home cooked meals by two different fabu ladies, gelato, the American Colony and general relaxation. I'm pulling down the WishList, but never fear that you can find it by searching for the word above. Thanks to everyone who called and wrote.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Photoessay 3: Love Story to a Land
The landscapes below were all taken this week and give just a wee peek at the beauty that I appreciated. Of course, photos do not come close to actually capturing the vistas, plus at the height of my physical endurance test, photography was not at the top of my priority list.
Enjoy!
A great big waterfall in Metulla. This delicious fresh water feeds the upper Jordan, into the Kinneret where it may or may not be sucked out by Israel's National Water Carrier and transported around the country for use.
Departing troops in 104 degree F weather. None of us are sure that we really want to get into this.
Kvish Yisrael (the path that runs from the north to the south of the country) marker's symbol.
Does anyone else think this is an incredibly sexual rendering of the land? Or could that just be me looking at too much Georgia O'Keefe these days?
The land's sensual curves.
Her natural pools.
Her trickles.
Her terracing on Mt. Meron.
More glorious terracing.
Her deep plunges.
How can you not fall in love?
Enjoy!
A great big waterfall in Metulla. This delicious fresh water feeds the upper Jordan, into the Kinneret where it may or may not be sucked out by Israel's National Water Carrier and transported around the country for use.
Departing troops in 104 degree F weather. None of us are sure that we really want to get into this.
Kvish Yisrael (the path that runs from the north to the south of the country) marker's symbol.
Does anyone else think this is an incredibly sexual rendering of the land? Or could that just be me looking at too much Georgia O'Keefe these days?
The land's sensual curves.
Her natural pools.
Her trickles.
Her terracing on Mt. Meron.
More glorious terracing.
Her deep plunges.
How can you not fall in love?
Dubbed: Officer of No B.S. and Water Conservation
One of the big hazards of being away from my computer for this long is that I was greeted by 109 email messages (after I deleted the obvious junk)!! Oy! But the whole trip was fantastic.
The Dorot section of the hiking/camping was hardcore, sort of. We did walk long, steep distances in beating hot sun. We slept on the ground, without tents, in nature and there were wild animals to keep us company including horses, cows, the possibility of wild boars and even a unicorn... maybe. I hiked further after twisting my ankle because there was no other way out of the riverbed where we were located. We cooked by the fire.
Yes, I know, the bus did meet up with us carrying all our sleeping stuff, food and water for all the meals. No, I didn't hike the last 3 hours because of my twisted ankle and instead went to get a coffee at the nearby rest stop. Yes, I do feel a little like I cheated on account of these things. But it is only because of my Taurean, middle-child/only-daughter-among-3-boys nature that compels me to make excuses in the first place. So today I overcome that natural compulsion and say, yes, I rock... I hiked hard and I feel good about my accomplishments.
After the Dorot hike, I spent shabbat in TA. YC and I ate a lovely dinner at EZ's parents' home. YC unearthed some videos from 1989 that showed him and all his buddies on their 14 year old soccer trip abroad which we delightedly watched. Notably, when many of these kids traveled to Europe at this age, it was the first time that they had been on an airplane and surpassed their parents, many of whom had never left Israel. I feel like I understand these boys better now that I have a sense of their childhood personalities. I understand why they put up with each others' schtick... when you have that kind of history together, the bonds of friendship are strong. I feel that way about many of my friends too. While certainly friendships wax and wane in importance over time, there are some thick ropes that bind us together through hardship. My roommate, IM, recently told me about one of her friends who is en route to get married and has therefore cut her girlfriends out of her life, more by negligence than any deliberate action. IM is suffering from it. I hope I am able to hold all the important people in my life around me close, even once I have found that special someone.
After the short respite, YC took me to the Golan Heights for my birthday (oh yea, today is my birthday, hint, hint.) We took a short walk along the Syrian border at Metulla, saw beautiful waterfalls, and got caught in a light rain shower. Delightful. Spent the night in an Ein Zivan tzimmer that was tastefully decorated, secluded and lovely. I recommend it; contact me for the number if you want to book it. It was very nearly perfect, except for my brutal sheshbesh slaughter. Myrrh does not like to lose!
And yesterday we hiked for about 5 hours in Yehudiah in the Golan. It was not anything close to the hardcoreness of the Dorot hike but was outstandingly beautiful. Waterfalls, natural swimming pools (I took advantage), fields of pale colored wildflowers, and dramatic jutting rock over steep cliffs. Not bad. When I returned home, both my roommates acknowledged that most Israelis would agree that Yehudiah is one of the most beautiful places in Israel. Here's the problem: It is in the Golan Heights, which many, many Israelis admit will someday revert to non-Israeli territory. Maybe it will be returned to Syria, maybe it will become some sort of nature preserve or international security zone, but it will not stay Israel's forever. Why does Israel continue to build it up if its final status is admittedly uncertain? First, there are those who practice a kind of cognitive dissonance relating to land. They don't think long term, they are building for now, for themselves with a come-what-may attitude. (This was prevalent among Gush Katif residents and this thinking is prevalent in Israel in other matters too.) Second, Israelis believe that building somehow affects their security situation. Third and importantly neglected in the political discourse is the deeply rooted feeling that the Golan is the only wilderness left in Israel. They do forget about the vast desert, but that's something else. Many Israelis crave the openness, the wild abandon, the dramatic vistas. They can't imagine returning to a land without that quality.
I am judgmental about this issue. I believe holding onto the Golan Heights and building it only antagonizes a country set on sponsoring terrorism in Lebanon and among Palestinian groups. I can't imagine that security is dependent on tall mountains anymore, not with the sophisticated monitoring instruments that we have. Investing in the Golan has a tragic quality, embodying the romantic hopes and dreams of the residents only to come to a certain end at some point in the future.
But I recognize that I'm also spoiled. I grew up with the Columbia River Gorge as a close drive away. Wilderness is something not lacking in Oville. I didn't know that I needed it, but I would crave it if it was gone.
...
The title of the post is the "portfolio" to which I was appointed as part of the Dorot tribe. The "Water Conservation" part is a bit obvious given my research this year. The "No B.S." part probably originated on our Dorot day focusing on the IDF. After listening to a lecture by an academic on the morality of the IDF and its code of ethics, we met with some young tank soldiers. After discussing army life, the big question hung around without being asked, "Did these young recruits know the code of ethics, and did they take it seriously?" I couldn't believe that no one had even asked it. So, of course, I spoke up. "Do you know this code; can you recite it?" And much to our surprise, they were well versed in the code's content and considered it very important. Basically, I have earned the reputation of asking those kind of questions and cutting through some of the B.S.
The Dorot section of the hiking/camping was hardcore, sort of. We did walk long, steep distances in beating hot sun. We slept on the ground, without tents, in nature and there were wild animals to keep us company including horses, cows, the possibility of wild boars and even a unicorn... maybe. I hiked further after twisting my ankle because there was no other way out of the riverbed where we were located. We cooked by the fire.
Yes, I know, the bus did meet up with us carrying all our sleeping stuff, food and water for all the meals. No, I didn't hike the last 3 hours because of my twisted ankle and instead went to get a coffee at the nearby rest stop. Yes, I do feel a little like I cheated on account of these things. But it is only because of my Taurean, middle-child/only-daughter-among-3-boys nature that compels me to make excuses in the first place. So today I overcome that natural compulsion and say, yes, I rock... I hiked hard and I feel good about my accomplishments.
After the Dorot hike, I spent shabbat in TA. YC and I ate a lovely dinner at EZ's parents' home. YC unearthed some videos from 1989 that showed him and all his buddies on their 14 year old soccer trip abroad which we delightedly watched. Notably, when many of these kids traveled to Europe at this age, it was the first time that they had been on an airplane and surpassed their parents, many of whom had never left Israel. I feel like I understand these boys better now that I have a sense of their childhood personalities. I understand why they put up with each others' schtick... when you have that kind of history together, the bonds of friendship are strong. I feel that way about many of my friends too. While certainly friendships wax and wane in importance over time, there are some thick ropes that bind us together through hardship. My roommate, IM, recently told me about one of her friends who is en route to get married and has therefore cut her girlfriends out of her life, more by negligence than any deliberate action. IM is suffering from it. I hope I am able to hold all the important people in my life around me close, even once I have found that special someone.
After the short respite, YC took me to the Golan Heights for my birthday (oh yea, today is my birthday, hint, hint.) We took a short walk along the Syrian border at Metulla, saw beautiful waterfalls, and got caught in a light rain shower. Delightful. Spent the night in an Ein Zivan tzimmer that was tastefully decorated, secluded and lovely. I recommend it; contact me for the number if you want to book it. It was very nearly perfect, except for my brutal sheshbesh slaughter. Myrrh does not like to lose!
And yesterday we hiked for about 5 hours in Yehudiah in the Golan. It was not anything close to the hardcoreness of the Dorot hike but was outstandingly beautiful. Waterfalls, natural swimming pools (I took advantage), fields of pale colored wildflowers, and dramatic jutting rock over steep cliffs. Not bad. When I returned home, both my roommates acknowledged that most Israelis would agree that Yehudiah is one of the most beautiful places in Israel. Here's the problem: It is in the Golan Heights, which many, many Israelis admit will someday revert to non-Israeli territory. Maybe it will be returned to Syria, maybe it will become some sort of nature preserve or international security zone, but it will not stay Israel's forever. Why does Israel continue to build it up if its final status is admittedly uncertain? First, there are those who practice a kind of cognitive dissonance relating to land. They don't think long term, they are building for now, for themselves with a come-what-may attitude. (This was prevalent among Gush Katif residents and this thinking is prevalent in Israel in other matters too.) Second, Israelis believe that building somehow affects their security situation. Third and importantly neglected in the political discourse is the deeply rooted feeling that the Golan is the only wilderness left in Israel. They do forget about the vast desert, but that's something else. Many Israelis crave the openness, the wild abandon, the dramatic vistas. They can't imagine returning to a land without that quality.
I am judgmental about this issue. I believe holding onto the Golan Heights and building it only antagonizes a country set on sponsoring terrorism in Lebanon and among Palestinian groups. I can't imagine that security is dependent on tall mountains anymore, not with the sophisticated monitoring instruments that we have. Investing in the Golan has a tragic quality, embodying the romantic hopes and dreams of the residents only to come to a certain end at some point in the future.
But I recognize that I'm also spoiled. I grew up with the Columbia River Gorge as a close drive away. Wilderness is something not lacking in Oville. I didn't know that I needed it, but I would crave it if it was gone.
...
The title of the post is the "portfolio" to which I was appointed as part of the Dorot tribe. The "Water Conservation" part is a bit obvious given my research this year. The "No B.S." part probably originated on our Dorot day focusing on the IDF. After listening to a lecture by an academic on the morality of the IDF and its code of ethics, we met with some young tank soldiers. After discussing army life, the big question hung around without being asked, "Did these young recruits know the code of ethics, and did they take it seriously?" I couldn't believe that no one had even asked it. So, of course, I spoke up. "Do you know this code; can you recite it?" And much to our surprise, they were well versed in the code's content and considered it very important. Basically, I have earned the reputation of asking those kind of questions and cutting through some of the B.S.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Over The Mountain and Through the Woods...
I have:
16 blisters on my feet (2 blood blisters);
19 mosquito bites on my body;
22 visible scratches from plants on my arms and legs;
1 burn on my neck from a flying spark from the fire;
pealing skin everywhere;
1 twisted ankle that is mostly healed; and
3 bruises in various places.
Yes, I had a fantastic time on our final dorot hike. Our actual route took us from Nof Ginosar on the banks of the Kinneret northerly so that we reached the top of Mt. Meron by the afternoon of the 2nd day. With the help of a bus (cheaters, I know) we went west and made sure to swim in the Mediterranean yesterday. Yam l'yam, sort of.
Learned lessons:
Camping with a tent is pretty luxurious.
Rain is welcome after two days of hiking without showers.
Water, water, water.... the more, the better.
Raise your hands as you walk through fields of prickly vegetation.
There is no shame in hiking slowly... it is all about finishing the route.
There is a such thing as too hot to hike. (see our first day of hiking.... about 8 hours in 40 degree C heat. No, that is not a joke or mistype.)
Israel is a fantastically beautiful place if you give yourself a chance to look at it.
I am still technically away from my computer (can't you tell?) but I will be back in a few days.
Shabbat Shalom!
16 blisters on my feet (2 blood blisters);
19 mosquito bites on my body;
22 visible scratches from plants on my arms and legs;
1 burn on my neck from a flying spark from the fire;
pealing skin everywhere;
1 twisted ankle that is mostly healed; and
3 bruises in various places.
Yes, I had a fantastic time on our final dorot hike. Our actual route took us from Nof Ginosar on the banks of the Kinneret northerly so that we reached the top of Mt. Meron by the afternoon of the 2nd day. With the help of a bus (cheaters, I know) we went west and made sure to swim in the Mediterranean yesterday. Yam l'yam, sort of.
Learned lessons:
Camping with a tent is pretty luxurious.
Rain is welcome after two days of hiking without showers.
Water, water, water.... the more, the better.
Raise your hands as you walk through fields of prickly vegetation.
There is no shame in hiking slowly... it is all about finishing the route.
There is a such thing as too hot to hike. (see our first day of hiking.... about 8 hours in 40 degree C heat. No, that is not a joke or mistype.)
Israel is a fantastically beautiful place if you give yourself a chance to look at it.
I am still technically away from my computer (can't you tell?) but I will be back in a few days.
Shabbat Shalom!
Monday, May 07, 2007
Ein Z'man
While I have lots of things to write about (Lag B'omer festivities, need for shabbat, the CRAZY heat), as they say "ein z'man"... meaning "no time".
Just wanted to let ya'll know that I'll be away from my computer for the next week and a half, likely not able to post in all that time.
Just wanted to let ya'll know that I'll be away from my computer for the next week and a half, likely not able to post in all that time.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Nytimes Gets In on The Oregon Action
NYTimes.com covers Gov. Kulongoski's efforts to raise awareness of hunger in Oregon. The saddest quote from the article:
Sometimes I wonder whether it will just take someone making a bold statement for progress to be made on any particular issue. I think about Sadat visiting the Knesset. And then I realize how static some issues are and how jaded we have become to genuine displays of emotion.
For all the public fascination with the governor’s menu, there did not appear to be immediate benefits for his policy agenda. Mr. Kulongoski’s proposal to provide health insurance to children by raising the cigarette tax failed in an initial vote during the week, though he said he believed that it would pass before the legislature adjourns in June. His plan to expand financing for community colleges has also stalled for now.
Sometimes I wonder whether it will just take someone making a bold statement for progress to be made on any particular issue. I think about Sadat visiting the Knesset. And then I realize how static some issues are and how jaded we have become to genuine displays of emotion.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
