From bad to good. Really really good.

A few weeks ago I found out two incredibly disturbing pieces of information within the course of one hour:

The rabbi who I worked with at the boarding school in NC was arrested in late October for eight counts of having sex with a minor. The minor was one of my students. He is 16. The accused was released on bail, is living in California working as an insurance agent, and was removed from the Rabbinical Assembly.

#2: the principal who I worked with at the boarding school was arrested last year for chatting online to a 12 year old girl.…who was actually a cop. His behavior was sustained over several months prior to his arrest.

Both are no longer at the school. The principal left the same time I did, although this happened after. The rabbi left the school within 2 hours of anyone getting wind of what happened – last winter/spring.

I had a strong dislike for the rabbi – personally and professionally. I had a strong affinity for the principal – personally and professionally. Both pieces of information have hurt me deeply and left me feeling confused and frustrated.

Among my thoughts are things such as: Fuck, I can’t believe I worked with these people. Are my students ok? How is the community handling this? For real, did this really happen?! How would I handle this if it happened in my school in the future? Did I miss any signs when I worked there? Did I do anything wrong? How do I deal with this? How do I approach my students to ask them about this? Do I approach my students to ask them about this? The former rabbi has 4 kids. The former principal is a father and a grandfather several times over.

Both men have been arrested, arraigned and released on bail. If they get convicted then it’s fucked up, it they didn’t do it then they are screwed for life. This is such heavy stuff.

I was horrified when I found out – in the middle of my day – and hurried home to call people in America to find out more. I also called my students, who are in Israel for the first trimester of their year. I found out what I could – it was all available for public knowledge by this point. I felt better after speaking with friends in America about the incidents (I actually found out about the principal when I phoned my friends in NC).

The student is back at school and doing ok. The community is dealing with it. The issues are out in the open. For all of my many criticisms of the school, I actually think – from what information I can gather – that the school handled things very well.

– fast forward two weeks –

In the process of speaking with my girls about what happened we decided that they would come to me for Shabbat. It was this past weekend. It filled my with such joy, such nachas, to see them and hear their laughter and voices. They are such intelligent, sweet little ladies (little being relative as I am smaller than all of them:). They each have the same basic personalities that I remember. They look the same as I left them but more filled out and a little older looking. They are just as energetic and silly. Some of them have boyfriends. Some of them have dealt with big big happy things and some of them big big sad/hard things. They told me all about their last year at the school and about their time here so far. It was clear to me that they have become very close and that they look out for one another – that made me very happy. They were split: some wanted to stay longer and some wanted to go home. America is home they claimed – “we want American food”! (I can’t say I feel them on this one, I am a big fan of what food is to be had here…and oh the bakeries!) I wasn’t surprised by who wanted to be here longer and who wanted to go home – it fit them well, as I remember them from my year with them. I cooked both lunch and dinner and we spent the whole time talking, laughing, being incredibly silly and eating tons. I brought them to the western wall at their request. We got there at about 1130 at night. I have never been there on Shabbat or a holiday and I have never been there at night before. And I have most certainly never been there with them before. It was so special. They have been rushed before and it has been crowded and filled with people who interrupt your prayers and ask for money. Most of the time it isn’t such a peaceful experience. This time they could take their time, it was almost empty and we got to sit there as a group – quietly soaking in what this place was at that moment. I dressed them all up and we looked like a traveling group of seminary girls – not an uncommon sight in this town. After our few hours journey they were totally pooped and crashed out all over my apartment. They didn’t get up until noon. We ate. We went back to sleep. We were silly some more. After Shabbat we went out for waffles at their request – they had heard that there was a good waffle place – so I found something new!
When I left them with their bus back to their school it was hard to say goodbye. They are such sweet ladies and they filled my home with such good vibes.

It was a VERY good Shabbat. And I think it was for them as well, so they told me:)

It made me feel better about some of the issues I was struggling with regarding the two issues above. My girls are ok. That is big.

A few days later I went to Had Hasharon to visit the rest of the students who couldn’t make it out. It was good to see them. They had so much to say about life in GSO, time in Israel…they were so excited to share and I was so excited to receive. We went out for dinner, ice cream then I had to come back to Jerusalem for early classes.

If my students were so happy to see me….and I was so happy to see them…then I am thinking it must have been a year well spent – complete with teenagers, confederate flags, sweet tea, grits and fried okra. Hmmm…im making myself hungry – for teaching and yummy food!

So, I’ll sign off for now with you all knowing that I am a happy girl – even if a little bewildered and hurting as well.

knock knock of the hammer.

The time has come for me to tell y'all about my week. it has been a good one.

Our vacation for Sukkot basically started on Sunday. We had a special day of learning about the holiday of sukkot, the festival of booths. Then I spent the afternoon building our school sukka on the school's roof. It is a pretty chill spot on the roof. you can see into downtown, the hills on the way to bethlehem, into katamon and towards the hills of arnona and talpiot and the direction of the west bank.

Then i headed out of town for what was supposed to be a two night trip to see a guy i have been dating. I headed out for the few hour trek to the coast, where he lives. I met him in Sinai, about a month ago, when i was there with hells-bells, brendan and gino (yes, i have yet to tell you about my trip to sinai and the rest of my travels in august). He is a really sweet guy, smart, vegetarian (super big plus), , loves hiking, scuba, and all things outside, and....not religious. Let me spare the suspense and tell you that i ended things the next day and came home early. It sucks, he was really attentive and fun. long rastot, handsome, super tan from long days on the beach. but i have already done the relationship with someone who doesn't dig judaism....and i cant do it again. there were other issues, but that was the big one. so, i said goodbye to him and headed to tel aviv to spend the afternoon on the beach there, doing a special service called tashlich - where you throw a piece of bread into a moving body of water to symbolize the sending away of our sins in our new year. Our attempts to start anew and live a life free of that which we fell prey to in the last year. I have to say that i felt particularly happy to see my little crust of bread float away into the Mediterranean. the sun on my back and the wind on my face. the sand tickling my feet. it was good.

it was a little sad to leave my newly found israeli, he was looking like a real possibility for a while and man was it good for my hebrew!:) but part of my hope for this new year is that i will do a better job of listening to myself - when something is right for me and when something just isnt a good fit. no matter what context that applies to. if i succeed i will be giving a lot more respect to my own emotions and feelings and other's in the long run as well. hurting fewer people = a good thing.

i headed back to jerusalem for a night of remembrance of a famous israeli poet named yehuda amichai at one of my favorite cafes in jersalem - t'mol shilshom. His poetry has simple language (which i appreciate having a simple, if also solid grasp on the Hebrew language). His family was there and they read some of his poems, telling stories about him. I think there were other famous authors there, although i am not in the know of such things. it was another experience of feeling a sense of progress in this place - the night was totally in hebrew and i not only was able to follow, but i understood and didnt even get a headache from concentrating too hard!:) I will try to remember to post some of his poems in the near future.

Then I went to my good friend Aviva's house after a short time at a friends goodbye party (oh, transient Jerusalem), watched a movie late into the night, and fell asleep slowly as we talked into the early hours of the morning. At 8:15 on the dot we were awoken by the sound of hammers all around us in Katamon ( a neighborhood in Jerusalem where Aviva lives, and I lived last year). It felt like there was a horrible joke being played on our tired bodies as what seemed like dozens of hammers worked their noisy magic around us. But we quickly were filled with giggly joy at what we heard because we realized that the hammers all around us were building sukkot in any place that families could find to put their temporary structures. the time has come to eat, sleep and dwell in those flimsy and meaning-laden structures called sukkot. It was such a Jerusalem morning. Every other building you passed there were people hammering together their sukkot, decorating them, putting palm branches over the top. It was a really special alarm clock!

I then went and bought my four species, which i will hopefully explain at some point this week. it's time to shake that lulav!

I spent the holiday at my friend yael's family's house in pisgat ze'ev. it was a little surreal. it is a neighborhood on the northern edge of the city. it is sorrounded by the separation barrier and a arab villages. during our evening meal in the sukkah the muslim call to prayer rang out and her uncle said, "have you met our sephardi neighbors yet?" yael and i just looked at each other and started to laugh. this situation is just too crazy to even absorb - most of the time! the meals were lovely and her family was so sweet and there were even babies to play with to boot!

i spent the last few days sleeping at night in our school sukkah and hanging out with friends and finding time to do things that are so hard to find time to do when i am not on vacation....like posting on my blog:) tomorrow i get to see varda which is amazing. jerusalem may be a transient city but it is also a place which gets a lot of visitors. tomorrow i get to enjoy the second of those two truths!

yael and i are going shopping for some things in mea she'arim tomorrow morning before i meet varda...here's hoping that i dont get stoned by any over-zealous ultra orthodox men!

I'll let you know how I make out:)

be well.

chag sameach.

moadim l'simcha. Happy times, y'all!

me.

aint nothin like a wedding in jerusalem:)

So, as my first back to reality post i'll tell yall about the wedding i went to in mid august. My friends Mo and Caitlin got hitched and I was honored to be invited to their wedding! they are both such great, happy, warm people....the way that they looked at each other at the events leading up to the chupa and then in the chupa - such love. such big love. it was amazing to see. the wedding was at a restaurant in a part of the city called mishkenot she'ananim (near the windmill, mom and pops, one of the places i took you in our wanderings around the city). It overlooks the walls of the old city. The chupa was on a hill outside the restaurant and the evening was cool and the sky wonderous colors as often happens here in Jerusalem.

Caitlin's mom is such a cool lady, and she was all emotional n' stuff seeing as caitlin is her only child...mo's fam is so intense and close knit. they all care so much about the fool:) such good vibes. it was a wonderful wonderful night and left me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside....ok enough gushing. below are pictures of the wedding as well as the finished product of my knitted hand washing towel for their present. check it out!

Chill level: 10 outa 10.

Summer has set in, folks.

My days over the last two weeks have been filled with learning Torah in the day - prep work for my program. I was doing some historical background research, looking at the book of Joshua and doing some other stuff here and there.

My nights have been filled with bars, friends and laughs. Jerusalem has lots going on - festivals, friends visiting from all around, summer vacation for Israelis (August is a common time for people to get at least some time to travel, be with their families, etc). I have also been finding ample time for knitting which is much appreciated cause i know my free time will drop precipitously once the school year starts in early sept. I am making a shirt for myself, which I will give picks of soon. I have been spending several hours knitting a towel for something called netilat yadayim - the washing of the hands. Essentially it is a towel to use when doing ritual handwashing - the one I designed and am knitting is specifically to be used for shabbat. (while the washing theoretically happens every time a Jew eats bread.) It is a wedding present for my good friends who are getting married in a few weeks here in Jerusalem. My first hand made wedding present - many to come! The design is out of a simple white cotton and has six leaves on a vine going from the bottom left to the top right corners. there are six leaves to symbolize the six days of creation and the seventh day is not represented as a "creation" because it is a rest, a break, from creation. It is made up of only two kinds of stitches and is made up of white cotton, as I said - this is what represents shabbat - simple livin'. the rest of the week has its complexities and stresses but shabbat is meant to be a break from those things. Nice eh?:)

I will post when it is finished but I am just so excited about it i had to put up pics.

So!

Now that the update is over, I can tell you about the coming few weeks (she jumps up and down in excitement!) I have a few friends who are in the country and I am going to Tel Aviv tonight to meet them. We are spending a few days beaching and partying and sighseeing in TA and then coming back to Jtown for a few days. Then we are renting a car and driving and camping all around the country. Then I come back to Jerusalem for my friends wedding and then it is back out again - this time to the south of the country and hopefully to jordan and egypt.

Plans are likely to change, but fun is sure to be had no matter what we do. Now I go to pack, meet a friend for lunch, last minute things before i head outa town.

I may be a little MIA for a few weeks while travelling around but I will be back in action starting in September cause my program is starting...one year down. Two more to go. Crazy.

super big hugs are being electronically emitted to you all.

Bethlehem

We went to Bethlehem for an afternoon. It was my first time going into the PA. It was my first time seeing the wall (up close – there are many parts of Jerusalem from which you can see it at a distance) that Israel has constructed, unilaterally, between Jewish and Arab settlements in the West Bank (and separating the WB from Israel). It is big and ugly and it makes life remarkably difficult for people living behind it. It is not seen as an ideal solution, or a solution at all, to the problem by nearly anyone on either side. For Palestinians it restricts their movement, cuts them off from their families in other areas of the WB, makes it difficult to work and obtain things like food, medicine, education, medical treatment. For Israelis they see their government spending their tax dollars on something that is big, ugly, very detrimental to the international community’s perception of Israel and cuts them off from a population which they are intimately connected to economically. I don’t bring up both groups to suggest that they are equally affected. But the reality is that all the people living here are affected by it and none see this as a permanent solution. It has made living in Israel safer. Things are no longer exploding every day. The territory that was once open and easily traversable is now cut off in most places with a concrete gigantic wall. And Palestinians are behind that wall cut off from the world, cut off from their jobs, their families, their fields. And from the hills of Bethlehem you can see into Israel – where the people are not behind the wall. Granted they are in front of it, so to speak, but they are living lives immensely more free in comparison.

The trip to Bethlehem: We took a sheirut (public transport vehicle:) from East Jerusalem to Bethlehem. We got into the bloody hot shared taxi and waited a few minutes for it to fill up before it would leave. After it was filled it drove a short distance to where there was a “checkpoint”. It is in the middle of East Jerusalem and consists of a person from the Israeli Border Control/Police getting on and looking at everyone’s documentation. We had our American Passports – which I will never look at in the same way again after this experience. Everyone else in the taxi was Arab. Each person had a permit – a piece of paper that was given to them to come into Israel – to work, see a doctor, study, etc. The soldier took each paper and looked at the ID card of each passenger. When she got to us we just flashed the fact that we had American passports and she didn’t even take them to look at them. She then got out of the taxi and spent a few minutes, while we sat waiting, to look through the documents and then after some time gave us permission to drive away. We got to Bethlehem about 45 minutes after we first go into the sheirut. The trip, without beauracracy should have taken about 5-10 minutes drive. From my apartment in south Jerusalem I can walk faster to Bethlehem than I can to the center of town.

We got out of the taxi at the entrance to Bethlehem, which is now surrounded entirely by the wall I was describing above. There is a lookout tower right above the area where we get out as is a sign that says “Peace be With You”. We go through the inspection/entry process and once again are waved through with our passports. Once we entered we were immediately descended upon by the cab drivers. I wasn’t at all surprised by this. I was disturbed by the fact that I wasn’t surprised. I knew to expect anyone connected to the service industry eagerly approaching any tourist in a place that should be full of tourists being the place that it is with its rich history but which is empty because of the tense political and security situation. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t have gone without someone who knew the area and preferably also a man. Our first stop was to the Basilica of the Nativity and St Catherine’s Church. When you go into the Basilica the door is very low (I almost got in without ducking though, so hah:) called the Door of humility. The door was built by Christians to prevent Muslims from coming in on horseback. It was one of those times when you wish your camera could capture smell. It is the oldest church in existence that has been in continuous use. Everything is faded – sometimes all you can make out on the artwork and trimmings is the gold filigree. A small part of the original floor still exists although most of it was destroyed over years of conquerors and fighting. From somewhere in the building we could hear people praying…I thought of Weeza. I wondered what it would be like for you, weez. I hope you get to go someday.

Afterwards we headed to the market – walking around the market and seeing a little bit of the city. At one point a car honked and I was so startled, not because of the honk but because I realized that I hadn’t heard a honk yet and if I had been in Israel I would hear honking constantly – that’s Israel. The people were very warm and interested to hear where we were from, not a surprising question from people who have such trouble leaving where they are (I do not suggest that Palestinians are alone in this fate – most of the human race is in their position). Our last stop before heading out of town was a restaurant my friend was a little crazy about. It was no chu chai:) But I believe him that it was tasty. Meat, who needs it! The salads were delicious though…

Our trip back was inclusive of our friendly and courteous experience back through security. Oh, wait. By friendly and courteous I mean cold and lacking any human contact. We went through a big room that felt like a warehouse complete with ramps along the ceiling for soldiers to walk around and observe what is happening. Most of the process includes you dealing with machines, going through with absolutely no human in sight besides the others going through with you. Only at the end do you see a face – to look at your paperwork. Our trip back was uneventful – as I wish it would be for all of Bethlehem’s residents every day.

I don’t want Israel to be unsafe for its residents. I don’t want Palestinians to suffer behind a wall, under an occupation. I do not want my people to be occupiers.

That’s it for now. G’night. Laila tov.

A New Friend

So. This past month I was at the Hebrew University taking an intensive Hebrew class. It was the best Hebrew instruction I have had. I don't mind the intensity - 5 hours in the morning and then doing somewhere between 2-4 hours in the evening of homework/studying. My Hebrew got loads better.

And, I made a new friend:).

As usual, with such new additions, I feel tremendously grateful to have him in my life now. Every time I make a connection, develop a friendship, with someone new who I immediately fall head over heels for - i feel as though my cup simply overfloweth. I mean, common, I have so much going for me already, so many blessings....now i get ANOTHER. Well...ok....I ACCEPT!!!

So. Why am I so fond of this new bloke? Well, you see, he simply shook things up for me. And if you know me at all you know how I like to shake things up:).

Now, what did he shake up? He brought me to a much more meaningful evaluation of my relationship with this holy/unholy land than anyone (including myself) has been able to do in a long time. Do yall remember last year I went to a place called Tekoa for a Shabbat? It is in the middle of the West Bank. It is in the middle of Palestinian territory. That excursion was a perfect example of me trying to figure this place out.

I made a promise to myself that I would do a lot more listening and “trying” than talking this past year. I never made the assumption that I would ever have a full understanding of the political, economic or social situation here. I knew I would lack clarity at the end as to my feelings, beliefs, etc. about the place, but I knew that was a better place to be than ignorance.

I knew that it would behoove me to sit back and listen up. Really, I did that in more than just my exploration of this place. Religiously I tried to be open to anything too. In the end I feel I have benefited from my attempts at observing rather than acting. But, problem was, I didn’t know how to get out of it.

I was looking forward to going back to America largely because of all my beloved ones over there. But I had another reason – I wanted a fresh look. I wanted to be able to come back here and have another go at it– outside of the bubble in which I live. What is this bubble I speak of?

I exist in a world in which we study Torah. We have Shabbat. We pray. We read. We go meet other Jews in pubs. At concerts. At festivals. We discuss Jewish communities. We discuss Jewish education. Etcetera. It is a VERY common thing here to run into sentiments like “Oh, you haven’t immigrated to Israel yet, you just live here? You really should move here permanently.” “build the homeland of the Jews, we need to put our efforts here” “I want to live here because it is a thriving Jewish community where I can be Jewish like nowhere else in the world” “I know that things aren’t great for the Palestinians, but I want to be safe HERE.”

The problem is that I don’t like the pressure to move here. And I don’t like self-inflicted ignorance. I don’t want to move here, most of the time. I once stood up in one of our community lectures last year and began my comment by explaining, like I was introducing myself at an AA meeting, “Hi, my name is…, I love galus [the diaspora].” I love living in the diaspora. Sure I understand that parts of my Jewish life can be expressed with greater ease here, but other parts of me can’t. But it isn’t only the pressure from people to move here (btw, I am not referring to my immediate community at my school – I really don’t feel pressure from my teachers in regards to this issue). It is that they seem to be overlooking the problems with Israel existing as it does. They seem to be willing to gloss over loss of human rights, democracy, and religious freedom that are part of this society. So this is my problem with the bubble – it is easy to fall into that and forget about the critique, to forget about others suffering when my life is so removed from it. This is where my new buddy comes in.

He allowed me to exit the bubble. He is critical and striving for honesty in intellect and in evaluation of the situation, and I was able to join him in that. It felt really good to hear someone talking a different talk than I have grown accostumed to hearing. It was relieving to be around someone who was willing to challenge himself and this place in a way that most are not willing to and often do not.

He also gave me many a laugh. That was a plus.

for example

do you remember recently when I said there are some things that happen in this country that make me want to hide under the bed? How about blatant racism?

From Haaretz:

Last update - 16:28 01/08/2007

"Petah Tikva schools refuse to accept 80 Ethiopian immigrants"

By Ayanawo Farada Sanbatu, Haaretz Correspondent

Eighty Ethiopian immigrant children, whose families transferred in recent months from absorption centers to permanent homes in Petah Tikvah, are still looking for schools that will agree to accept them for the upcoming school year .

The immigrants cannot be accepted to state secular schools as they have yet to finish their conversion process. The state-religious schools - where they are supposed to finish the conversion process - are not willing to accept them either, since the local authorities are concerned that they will scare off other students to private religious schools, leaving only the poverty stricken children in the state-religious schools.

Private religious schools in Petah Tikva are also unwilling to receive them.

"It is inconceivable that independent religious schools, which receive funding from the Education Ministry and the local authority, will refuse to accept children to their schools", the Ethiopian immigrants said on Tuesday.

"If the schools would refuse to receive children from other communities, the public would shout out. All our children want to do is go to school and then the army to serve their country. But when the state needs to supply them with the education they deserve, they turn a blind eye."

Abraharm Nagosa, Chairman of an umbrella group of Ethiopian immigrant organizations, said "the Education Ministry has abandoned the Ethiopian immigrant children once again. I call upon the education minister to address this issue herself and ensure that all citizens of the state receive the equal education they deserve."

The Education Ministry responded, saying "the ministry is aware of the issue and is dealing with it. A meeting took place Tuesday with the local authority and in the next few days a second meeting will take place between all the relevant parties in order to find a suitable solution to the matter."

The Petah Tikva local authority said in response that "director-general of the Education Ministry Shmuel Abuav met Wednesday with Mayor Yizhak Ohayun to discuss the matter and it was decided that the Abuav would summon the principals of the private schools in order to convince them to accept the children."

On the bus.

On the bus.

The little girl sits in front of me with her mother. Her mother is absorbed in her book of tehilim. Hebrew scrawls across one side of the pages and Amharic on the other. The little girl’s braids stick out in all directions – giggling girlishly at the thought of laying flat. Of obeying gravity. Of ceasing to be playfully-of-a-child. Bright colors. Orange and pink. Blue socks on small feet in white sandals.
She sees me in the reflection of the glass barrier in front of our rows. She notices my shoulders. So I notice them too. A dark brown shirt that hugs my upper arms – baring my shoulders to the world. What are they saying? Woman. Skin likes fresh air and sun. Happy it’s summer.
She begins to mimic my bare shoulders by pulling down the edges of her own shirt to reveal her own beautiful shoulders to the world. Then she looks to my image, just above her own, reflected back at her, in comparison. She smiles faintly at what she sees. I don’t know why. I am happy that she smiles, though.

Then she notices me smiling back at her – noticing her as she notices me – and she turns childish-shy. She plunges her face into her mother’s side. She is embraced in one arm, while in the other arm a book of poems to God is open revealing the treasured content inside. Both arms holding life.

They get off the bus at the next stop. Hand in hand. The psalms now closed until the next opportunity. And I realize that in my sleepy haze I have taken the wrong bus. And I thank God for it. For the beauty I saw in the seat in front of me.




[Translation Note: tehilim = psalms]

Who's on the other end?

My ulpan teacher related this story to a friend of mine in the class and he continued the oral tradition today on our busride back to our side of town. It is by now third hand, but she heard it first hand.

a la Yehudit (my ulpan teacher):

My uncle was at an academic conference in France and the building where it was held was very busy. And loud. The time came to pray his afternoon prayers and there was no place for him to retreat to find a little space and a little quiet.

After some searching he settled on a phone booth as the best option.

He entered the phone booth. He picked up the receiver so it would seem as if he was actually using the thing. He began reciting the prayers. In Hebrew. And he said parts out loud so it would seem as if he was really talking to someone. Some parts he said silently as is traditionally done when praying alone. He was shuckling a little bit back and forth as is to be expected at such times.

When he hung up the phone and walked out of the booth the man next in line was looking at him with great curiousity and said, "Can I have the number of whoever it was you just called?"