Day 88: Israel is a very small place

It's been a little while since I've updated - all sorts of things have been happening here! A few quick highlights include:

• Ulpan classes are in full swing and are going very well! Hebrew is flooding back into my brain, which is a great feeling.
• I've started writing for the new Pardes student blog (along with seven or so other students), which you can read here.
• Tofu! Pardes has a tofu co-op which I am currently organizing (taking orders from students, placing the order with Simcha-the-tofu-lady and dealing with sorting out the delivery). I get a free kilo of tofu with every order, so it's pretty worthwhile for me.
• Vegetables! Miriam and Sarah and I joined a CSA called ח'ביזה עלי (alay chubeza - I don't actually know what it means) and now a lovely box of vegetables gets delivered to my apartment every week. It's fantastic. Last week there were eggplants, sweet potatoes, a big piece of squash, corn, lettuce, rocket greens, scallions, bell peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, and radishes. And cilantro. I'm in vegetable heaven.

I have a lot of stories from the last two weeks, but here are two particularly good ones. The first one starts on the Friday night before Simchat Torah (October 9th, for those playing the home game). Miriam and Sara (Gunning) and I all went to our friend Jessica and Amy's apartment for Shabbat dinner. We had a really wonderful evening - one of the other guests was actually someone that Sara taught with at Beth Emet, which was a nice surprise. While we were there, Amy asked us if we had met her friend Jeremy yet - he works for Btselem, a human rights organization here in Israel. The answer was no - or at least, not yet.

The next day, Sara and I went to Nava Tehila for Simchat Torah services - Nava Tehila is a Renewal minyan here in Jerusalem, which mostly means that there's a lot of really beautiful singing. The service was very spiritual and joyful, and at one point we unrolled the whole Torah scroll and held it up in a circle with our tallitot. Sara was standing on one side of me, and there was a gentleman I'd never met before on my right, so I introduced myself and started chatting. His name is Jeremy, and it turns out that he works for Btselem, and knows Amy and Jessica... Small world, right?

Jeremy is also a central figure in the second story, because it's actually mostly his story. Jeremy's father is Israeli by birth, but his family moved out of Israel when Jeremy's father was two years old. Jeremy came to Jerusalem to work for Btselem, which is a great human rights organization that doesn't have the best relationship with the Israeli government, for a lot of reasons. Anyway, after Jeremy got here, he went to apply for a work visa, and was asked where his parents were born. Upon mentioning that his father was born in Israel, Jeremy was informed that he couldn't apply for a work visa because he's actually an Israeli citizen, and so what he needed to do was make aliyah.

For a lot of complicated reasons, and also some pretty simple and obvious ones, Jeremy didn't actually want to make aliyah, but it wound up being his only feasible option for the time being. And so on Friday I found myself hanging out on the Tayelet with Miriam, Sara, Jeremy, and Jeremy's friend Avital having a little mock-aliyah party, celebrating the insanity that is the Israeli government. And in another example of the world being small, it turns out that Avital, who went to Berkeley, knows Kelly (one of my AVODAH roommates and current good friend). Crazy!

Beyond the fact that the world is fairly small, I think Jeremy's story is really interesting because it highlights a weird part of being in Israel. I get the sense sometimes, both from Israelis and Americans, that in order to be a good Jew I have to want to live in Israel forever. Which, frankly, isn't something I think I'll ever want. I have far too much of a life in the United States to ever really be comfortable with the idea of moving to Israel, and that doesn't even begin to address the ideological problems I have with making aliyah. Anyway, talking with Jeremy about his situation has just reminded me how complicated living here actually is, and how far from home I really am. It's easy to forget you're living in a foreign country when you spend most of your time with other Americans, but it turns out that things are really different here! Who knew? :)

Day 72: a new month is here

The last time I posted, I was planning to take a trip to Tel Aviv for the Nachalat Binyamin craft fair and some quality time at the beach. I wound up going with Lauren and Shira, and had an absolutely fantastic day. First of all, the Nachalat Binyamin craft fair is amazing - it's all Israeli artists, and while (as at any street fair) some of the stuff is less than stellar, there's also a large quantity of really beautiful work. Jewelry, Judaica, toys, wall hangings, scarves, paintings... Lauren and Shira and I walked through the fair for almost two hours, and had a really good time. I didn't wind up purchasing anything, because I just couldn't make a decision about what I wanted, but I will certainly be going back there in the future.

That afternoon, we went to the beach where I put my feet into the Mediterranean for the first time in my life. Lauren, in all her rabbinical student glory, even knew the blessing to say upon seeing the Mediterranean for the first time, so we had a nice moment when we put our feet in the water.

As I lay on my blanket in the sun, I came to the realization that I am a little bit of a beach addict. I have always thought of myself as a mountain girl - mostly because of my love for the beautiful, beautiful Appalachian mountains, but also because I love hiking, and camping, and being surrounded by trees. However, as I lay on the beach soaking up the sun and swimming in the warm water, it occurred to me that I felt more relaxed than I have felt the entire time I've been in Israel. There's something about being next to a large body of water that's so soothing - the sun, and the smell, and the sound all combine to make one happy Naomi. In Chicago, I made a point in the summer of spending my Sunday afternoons at the lake for a lot of the same reasons (the water is not quite so warm in Chicago, even in July and August...). I guess it's just something to keep in mind when I work my way back to the States in the spring.

Since that afternoon, I've been thinking a lot about how to bring that level of calm into the rest of my life here in Jerusalem. I'm not absurdly stressed out, but getting through the holidays in Jerusalem is a bit of a long haul, and I feel like I'm only just able to really start settling into life here.

One of the big issues I'm currently tackling is my relationship to the Hebrew language - I am, for the first time that I can remember, nervous about speaking to people in stores. As a child, I was taught all of the same lessons my friends were taught - don't speak to strangers! Don't approach people you don't know! But in the South, there's a sense of familiarity that we all grow up with - when you're in a grocery store, it's alright to chat with the person next to you looking at cantaloupes, or the person in front of you in the check-out line. Commenting on a museum exhibit to the person standing next to you is totally socially acceptable, whether you know them or not. When I was at Brandeis, I often had strange interactions with people in public spaces, because I would talk to everyone, and they had no idea how to react to that. But here, in Jerusalem, I find it genuinely difficult to open my mouth in public.

Mostly it has to do with the language barrier. I'm scared of making a mistake, and having people know that I'm *gasp* American. I don't have a lot of confidence in my Hebrew fluency, so I don't speak, so I don't get better, so I don't have confidence... It's difficult for me to reconcile feeling so comfortable with the neighborhood I live in in terms of knowing how to get from Point A to Point B, and not knowing how to ask for directions if I wander off of my path. I don't really have that much of a problem looking silly in public, but when checking out in the grocery store involves me answering questions by looking bewildered and shrugging, it starts to feel a little uncomfortable.

I'm definitely getting better - not necessarily at speaking, but at learning the right words so that I can understand when people speak to me. Also, I just started an ulpan (modern Hebrew class) that meets twice a week in the evenings at Pardes, so I'm getting in a lot of practice in a safe space. My first ulpan class was so much fun - it was such a relief to be sitting in a classroom where the only thing I had to think about was speaking modern Hebrew, as opposed to biblical Hebrew and the Torah, or struggling through Aramaic in the mishna. I found that I remember a lot more than I think I do - I just need some practice accessing that part of my brain again. And then I need to start speaking in public, but that's definitely a future step in the process.

The next two days are Rosh Hodesh Cheshvan, Cheshvan being either the second or the eighth month of the Hebrew calendar (it depends on who you're asking...). Cheshvan is often referred to as Mar Cheshvan (in Hebrew, Mar means bitter) because it is a month without any Jewish festivals, and therefore a month without rejoicing. I went to a Rosh Hodesh group tonight, where we talked a lot about the positive aspects of Cheshvan - for example, the fact that there are no chagim in Cheshvan means that you can actually settle into a routine, and begin living up to all of your Rosh Hashannah resolutions. And with that, I think I'll get started on one of my Rosh Hashannah resolutions, which is to get more sleep!

Hodesh tov! Enjoy the new moon!

Day 59: this might get long

"The real problem with Israel isn't the Arabs - it's the Israelis."

I came out of the woods with this written on my arm - it's a quote from Dan, the hostel owner's son who helped us out while we were staying up north. Let me explain.

A few weeks ago, Miriam told me that she and a few of her friends were planning a trip up to Haifa, or maybe to the Galilee. Cool, I said. Let me know if it's actually going to happen, because I'd love to come with you. I had no idea what I was signing myself up for. Last Tuesday afternoon, after our Sukkot Yom Iyun (day of learning), Miriam found me and let me know that she and Laura, Lauren, and Evelyn were sitting down to plan their trip leaving the next day and coming back Friday morning, and would I like to join them?

The plan was to rent a car, leave Jerusalem early Wednesday morning and drive to Moshav Almagor, home of the Sea of Galilee Guest House where we stayed Wednesday night and Thursday night, and then leave Almagor early on Friday so we would get back to Jerusalem in time for Shabbat.

Things started off a little rocky - we planned to leave at 9, but it wound up taking about two and a half hours just to pick up the rental car, so we didn't actually leave until 11:30ish. And then, about fifteen minutes into our exodus from Jerusalem, we got in a fender bender. Not our fault - the person behind us wasn't paying attention and rear-ended us. There was almost no damage, and we were paying an arm and a leg for insurance, so it wound up not being that big of a deal, just a little dramatic.

We got to the moshav in the mid-afternoon, with just enough time to run over to the moshave grocery store to pick up some supplies. The hostel was absolutely gorgeous - orange trees and flowering bushes and multiple hammocks for lounging. We stayed in their dormitory, which was both cheaper and more convenient for us, because there was no reason to split up - you can see pictures here.

On Wednesday night we drove up to Rosh Pinna for dinner at a restaurant called Indigo. There were figs and mushrooms stuffed with goat cheese and shakshuka and stuffed artichokes, and Lauren and I shared a fantastic chocolate cake for dessert. Reasons this restaurant is awesome include: amazing food, a sukkah!, a waitress who spoke to us in Hebrew even though we used English menus, and excellent placement near a mall so that Laura could buy herself some shoes for our hike the next day.

Thursday morning we got up and called Dan, the son of the hostel owner who had checked us in the day before. On Wednesday he had mentioned that if we needed help finding a hiking trail, we should feel free to call him and he would come by to help us out. Dan was a pretty stereotypical Israeli farmer - long hair, very tan, very laid back... We asked him for a water hike, and he directed us to a trail that runs through\near some of his fields (he farms pomegranates and mangoes). It was an adventure from top to bottom. A majority of the trail was actually in the water, generally somewhere around mid-calf, but occasionally getting up to mid torso. It was fairly well marked, and we managed not to get lost (some people I was hiking with might tell you a different story, but I'm pretty sure I knew we were on the trail the whole time...), but it was definitely a commitment. We wound up not finishing, mostly because we got to yet another section involving almost-swimming, and the majority of the group was too tired to go on.

We called Dan for a rescue - he came to pick us up in his truck, along with his two employees (both migrant laborers, probably Thai, potentially undocumented) and some freshly picked pomegranates that he cracked open for us on the spot. He was polite enough not to laugh at us for not finishing, and to give us a tour of his fields on our way back to our car. And that's when the opening quote was uttered, because we drove through the campgrounds on the moshav only to find them totally trashed by the previous weekend's campers. There was garbage everywhere - and not just a few empty bottles, but a broken chair, half empty bags of charcoal, and bits and pieces of tents strewn about. It was a little shocking to see nature that had been so thoroughly destroyed after spending four beautiful hours in the Jordan river.

Rather than go back to the hostel and change, we drove straight to the Golan Heights Winery for a wine tasting. Dad, this is for you - we tasted a Sauvingon Blanc (I liked it) a Cabernet Sauvingon (I didn't like it) and a Muscat (I liked it in small quantities) - and yes, I swirled and sniffed all three. It was pretty funny to be sitting in the middle of a winery dressed in all of my damp hiking clothes, but we were pretty much the only people there because it was pretty late in the day, so it didn't really matter.

We drove back to the hostel to clean up and do a little journaling\resting, and then we drove to Tiberias for dinner. If you come to Israel, don't go to Tiberias. I'm sure it has redeeming qualities, but I haven't found any of them yet. The part of Tiberias we were in is pretty much a giant tourist trap, and it was unpleasant. We decided to go there in search of good fish and chips, and while we found fish and chips, it wasn't the best I've ever had. They did serve us whole fish, which I wasn't really expecting - generally when I've had fish and chips the fish has been a little more processed... My photos from the trip are up here - none of me, because I don't take pictures of myself, but you can in fact see the whole fish both before and after I ate. :)

Friday brought its own set of surprises - in the car on the way back from the Galilee, I got a phone call from a woman named Judith, inviting me to come to lunch on Saturday. Judith who? I said, and then told her I would call her back later. It turns out that Judith and I are related, distantly. Her daughter Rivka is my father's second cousin, and I think if you had to diagram my relationship to Judith it would be my paternal grandfather's first cousin's wife, making her my grand-cousin-in-law. Or something like that.

Anyway, Judith lives in Holon and Rivka lives in Tel Aviv, and they were gathering the family for a big Shabbat\Sukkot lunch and wanted me to join them. So on Saturday morning I took a cab to Yaffo street and hopped in a sherut to Tel Aviv, where Rivka picked me up at the central bus station and drove me to Judith's house. There were probably 25 people at lunch, all of whom I was related to in one way or another. I spent the most time talking to Adi, Rivka's daughter, and my (I think) third cousin. Adi is starting school in Beer Sheva in a week or two, and is a little nervous about moving away from home, but I think she'll do well. I'm certainly looking forward to developing more of a relationship with her (hopefully, eventually in Hebrew!). Lunch was a great experience, and everyone was very welcoming to me. I hope to see them again some time while I'm here in Israel.

Tomorrow I'm heading back to Tel Aviv for the Nachalat Benyamin craft fair, and potentially some time hanging out on the beach, and other than that, I have no plans for the week! It's nice to have some fluidity in terms of where I need to be and what I need to be doing

And that's more than enough recapping for one blog post - moadim l'simcha, and chag sameach to everyone!

Day 52

Yom Kippur in Jerusalem is an incredibly unique experience. All of the things that people will tell you are true - almost everyone in the city dresses in white (except for me, because I'm a rebel\didn't realize that was a trend until it was too late to do anything about it), there are next to no cars on the road (there were, however, a ton of police cars) and the television stations shut down for the holiday. Miriam and Sara (Gunning) and I took ample advantage of the lack of cars and walked in the middle of the road whenever we could throughout the day.

We went to Kol Nidre services at a minyan called Kehilat Kedem - "an independent egalitarian minyan committed to spiritual traditional prayer" - that I would describe in laymen's terms as "more Conservative than anything else I've been to for Kol Nidre." The Kol Nidre service was led by Leora Perkins, a Brandeis friend, who did a beautiful, beautiful job. I had my first surprising experience of the night when we left services, only to find Emek Refaim crowded with people out enjoying the evening. It seems that secular families use Kol Nidre as a chance to go rollerblading\skateboarding\biking around the city. We saw groups of teenagers sitting and playing cards in the middle of major intersections, families out walking their dogs, and lots and lots and lots of people making their way home from services.

This morning we went back to services at Kedem which was, to be frank, disappointing for me. I know enough Hebrew and enough traditional prayer to be comfortable in a Shabbat or weekday service, but Yom Kippur is apparently a little beyond me. I found the service to be isolating in an unexpected way; yes, there were times the whole group sang or chanted together, but it was almost always in Hebrew that I didn't really understand, to tunes that I don't really know. I also don't really feel comfortable with parts of the service such as the recreation of the Temple Service, or the act known as duchaning (any Kohanim present are called up to bless the congregation), or the occasions when the congregation would prostrate itself on the floor. These are things that just aren't a part of my Jewish practice, and I know that some of my discomfort comes from a lack of education about the rituals, but some of it is about beliefs. I don't feel the need to be blessed by my peers - the notion of the priesthood doesn't carry a lot of weight with me.

I did really appreciate the beautiful Torah and Haftorah readings, and the excellent job my new Pardes friend Mark did of leading Mussaf (the service after the Torah service). Also, there's a lot to be said for praying in a community where so many of the faces are familiar - I feel very comfortable with the people present at Kedem services, and I look forward to getting to know them better.

After services at Kedem ended we walked to HUC for the afternoon services at Beit Shmuel (this is Beit Shmuel). Services were in a beautiful auditorium with one wall made entirely of glass, looking out over the Old City. I hope that watching sunsets in Jerusalem never gets old. I really appreciated being in a Reform service this afternoon - I'm trying to be open-minded and adventurous with my prayer options this year, because I know that there are a lot of communities here that don't have parallels in the States, but sometimes all I want is something comfortable and familiar. HUC was definitely both of those things. The sermon this afternoon was really powerful - the rabbi, whose name I don't know - talked about transitive and intransitive verbs (not transient and intransient, as I reported to Will and Sarah earlier this evening!), and how it's important to be an ambi-transitive verb. So in English what that means is, there are verbs that need objects (I eat food) and verbs that don't (I fast), and it's important to be both. One thing he said that really stuck out to me was "I grow isn't enough - if growth isn't directed towards something, it's not growth, it's just self-indulgence." There was a greater message about the importance of acting upon the world as opposed to simply letting the world act on you, which is a sentiment that I really believe in and loved hearing expressed so eloquently.

The Yizkor service was difficult, as expected. Saying goodbye to people is hard. Miriam and I both forgot to bring tissues, and had a moment where we looked at each other and said "our mothers would not approve of this!" It made me think about going through Grandma Marilyn's belongings after her funeral, and finding a hand mirror and a package of tissues in every single purse in her closet.

Tomorrow is a special day at Pardes - we're having lectures instead of our normal class schedule, and it's only a half day, and then we have vacation until the 12th! I still haven't figured out the details of what I'm doing over this break, but the longer I wait to make any choices, the more and more it looks like I'll be taking a few day trips around the country, which I think is a perfectly acceptable way to spend a vacation. I might also borrow Sharon's sewing machine while she's in Argentina, and spend a little time being creative.

Other major things that have happened here include a trip to the Jerusalem Forest for an afternoon with my Self, Soul, and Text class to practice hitbodedut (solitude). We spent an hour talking to God, which was a very powerful experience for me, and something I've been thinking about a lot since then. I don't know what we're going to be studying next, but I'm looking forward to it! I'm signed up for an ulpan that starts after Sukkot, so I'll be able to get some more practice and teaching with Hebrew - I'm finding it pretty difficult to study on my own, so I'm really looking forward to having the chance to be in a group setting.

I hope that everyone had an easy and meaningful fast.

Day 43: East Jerusalem

For those of you wondering, this is my apartment. Notice, if you will, the little dotted line to the left of my apartment that runs along Beitar street, reading 1949 Armistice Agreement Line. That's right, folks - I live over the Green Line.

Let me back up a few steps to tell the whole story. Today is the second day of Rosh Hashana, and Miriam and Sarah and I decided to celebrate by hosting a lunch in our apartment. We invited some of our friends - a few Brandeis people, Sara Gunning (a representative of Team Chicago), Jessica Simon (another Pardes girl) and Miriam's friend Ben from life in general. It was a really lovely meal - we had way too much food, some excellent rugelach from the Marzipan bakery, and a few miscellaneous Israeli "juices."

We started talking about a variety of things - people we knew from school, the weather (it rained today!), etc. At one point, and I'm not sure how this came up, Sarah made a comment about a weird section in our lease that declares that as far as we know, no one owned this land before 1968:

1. The Tenant declares that he knows that on the 20th day of August, 1968 no tenant was entitled to possession of the apartment and/or that the apartment was duly vacated after that date by any tenant who may have been entitled to possession thereof and has since not been let for key money and/or that the construction of the apartment building was completed after August 20th, 1968 and the apartment was first let subsequent to that date (without payment of any key money). The Tenant further declares that he has not paid the Lessor or any other person any key money or other payment for the consent of the Lessor or such other person to let him the apartment, other than as set out in this Agreement, and he agrees that the provisions of the Tenants' Protection Law (Consolidated Version), 5732-1972, or any subsequent or future Tenants' Protection Legislation, will not apply to his tenancy of the apartment under this Agreement nor to any extension thereof.

I didn't think much of it at the time that I signed it - I just assumed it was a weird Israeli thing, and moved right past it. Turns out, the reason I'm vowing that no one ever owned this apartment is because they don't want me to refuse to move out at the end of the year by declaring that this land is ancestrally my home. So then I looked it up on a map, because I was curious, and also a little concerned that I had moved into occupied territory. Apparently every single time I leave my apartment, I am crossing the Green Line.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about this - first of all, it's entirely unclear to me based on the map whether the little pocket of land I live in is on the Israel or the Jordan side of the Green Line - I'm hoping for Israel because it's a lot less morally complicated for me that way, but there's also a high potential for Jordan. Unfortunately, the map isn't very clear (and this is obviously an area where we'd like as much uncertainty as possible). According to wikipedia, Talpiot (my neighborhood [the picture in that wikipedia article, by the way, is the mall directly across the street from Pardes]) has always belonged to Israel, though for a while it was surrounded by Jordanian-controlled East Jerusalem. Other articles talk about the area as a "no man's land" that was created to place a barrier between the Israeli and Jordanian armies. Either way, it's clear that as of the Six Day War, this territory has belonged to Israel.

If nothing else, it's led to all sorts of entertaining statements in my apartment such as "remember that time we lived in Palestine?" or "remember that time we needed passports to get to school every day?" My personal favorite is "remember that time we talked about whether we would accept invitations to eat at the houses of our teachers who lived in settlements, and then realized that we lived in a settlement ourselves?" In some ways, where we live is obviously not a settlement - we didn't move here with the intention of reclaiming land for Israel. And yet, I have a sense that that argument doesn't matter - that the intention isn't enough to make it okay. So this is the current piece of news I'm absorbing and dealing with. It's certainly something to wrap my head around.

Rosh Hashana here in Jerusalem was beautiful - I had some excellent meals with people throughout the holiday, and some good prayer experiences. I'm looking forward to the year when I've lived in the same place for two years in a row, and don't have to go anywhere new for the holidays. It's always a little unsettling, and there's no way to guarantee a good experience. Rosh Hashana is a good practice run for Yom Kippur, though, because now I know that if I go to services at Kol Haneshama, the entire thing will be in Hebrew and I'll have to sit on a plastic chair.

We have class tomorrow morning but not tomorrow afternoon, because of the Fast of Gedalia (google it, it's not that interesting), and then on Tuesday we're back to a normal schedule for three days, and then I have a four day weekend (Friday and Saturday for Shabbat, Sunday and Monday for Yom Kippur). We have class next Tuesday but it's not a normal day, and then I have a vacation until the 11th of October. I'm definitely planning to do some traveling during that week, but I'm not sure where I'll be going yet - probably places in the country like Haifa, and maybe Tsfat. I'm hoping eventually to travel to Petra, and possibly Sinai, but those are both big trips with a lot of complicating factors, so I'm saving them until I feel a little more comfortable outside of Jerusalem.

Day 36: Jerusalem

Lots of wonderful things have been happening here in Jerusalem over the past week. I opened an Israeli bank account with the aide of a lovely woman named Batsheva (for a more in-depth account, read Miriam's blog here), I went to two yoga classes at Pardes, had an amazing conversation about the mikveh with Will, went to a delicious dinner at Caffit with Miriam (Kelly - you were right, the salads are amazing!), ate falafel, studied the story of the casting out of Ishmael (did you know that Hagar actually fits the archetype of a patriarch rather than a matriarch? she talks directly to God [really an angel, but whatever] and finds a wife for her son), and had two great lessons on Martin Buber. Also, I went to Pomerantz, which is a great religious bookstore downtown and purchased some books for class and also a new siddur.

This past weekend was the first Pardes Shabbaton of the year. We left Pardes Thursday afternoon, and spent Shabbat at what used to be the home of Young Judaea YearCourse (not Beit Riklis - the new place) until Hadassah lost all of their money and had to sell their fancy new building, and is now the Judaea Youth Hostel. It was a beautiful Shabbat, full of singing and dancing and rest and relaxation. And, because it's Pardes, text study and shiurim (lessons). Lots and lots of text study and shiurim. We talked about teshuva, we talked about Jewish journeys, we talked about dealing with the diversity of the Pardes community, etc., etc. I had a really good time, which seems like an understatement to describe the weekend, because it's much more complex than that, but I'm tired and a little sick, and all I can think of right now is I had a really good time.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about teshuva lately - much of that is because of Pardes, and the fact that almost all of my classes are studying things related to Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, but a lot of it is just because of me. I've had several conversations recently about what teshuva actually is - is it just repentance, or is it something more? I think the definition I've settled on for myself is that doing teshuva means taking stock of where I am and what I've done during the past year. It's not just reflecting on those things, though, because I think teshuva is also about taking action; it's about deciding what I'm happy and unhappy with about my life, and making changes based on those decisions. And definitely not treating my repentance in a superficial way, like when all of my friends posted Facebook status last year declaring "If I've done anything to hurt or offend you in the past year, I'm sorry," which I actually found very offensive, but that's another story...

One of the many text studies I did this weekend was about how to begin teshuva - that is, how it can seem overwhelming at the start, because it's a big task to ask that we repent for every little thing we've done wrong since last Yom Kippur. Yaffa Epstein, the teacher leading the shiur, brought us a text that told a story (which I'm paraphrasing) about a king and his son. The son had traveled far from home, and the king was asking him to return. The son says "It's too far - I am a hundred days distance from home." And the king replies "Go as far as you can, and I will meet you there." In case you weren't sure, in this story we are the son, and God is the king. I think it's an incredibly powerful statement - that during this time of teshuva, we should do as much work as we can, but we don't have to finish. God expects of us only what we are capable of doing and nothing more - we have to take the first step, but if that's the only step we can take than God will understand, and meet us there.

It's a philosophy that I think I want to apply to all of my religious life, and not just to teshuva - because there are times when I want to take on more mitzvot and there are times when the only mitzvot I can think about doing are the basic ones, like "don't steal" and "don't kill people." But God understands - God knows that I am tired, or frustrated, or overwhelmed by the things that have happened during this past year, and doesn't need me to do any more than that. It's a comforting thought.

The other thing I took away from the Shabbaton was a greater sense of belonging within the Pardes community. We needed some quality outside of class time together to get past some of the social awkwardness of meeting a new group of people, and it definitely worked. Yay for making new friends! And with that, I wish you all a lovely Monday.

Day 27: Jerusalem (my apartment!!)

I am here. It is official. Miriam, Sarah, and I have been living in our apartment for several days now, and I can safely say that this is the nicest apartment I have lived in and will live in for the next foreseeable future. Pretty much all of our furniture is from Ikea (miscellaneous blankets included) and the walls are all very, very white, which makes it look a little like a hospital, but we're working on bringing in some color and decorations to make it look a little more homey.

The best thing about it by far is the little balcony off of the main room, which looks out over a beautiful little landscaped area (too small to be a park, but lots of grass and a few trees). Also, the kitchen is really beautiful, though all of the appliances are complicated. We're working on it.

Classes started on the 1st, and life has been a bit of a whirlwind since then. It doesn't seem like sitting in a classroom for eight hours a day would be tiring, but it really, really is. My classes are going very well - I placed into Level 2 (out of seven) which is pretty much exactly where I thought I would be and where I wanted to be - I know enough that I'm not an absolute beginner, but the things I'm studying are all new and challenging.

Two things I'm particularly excited for are a class called Modern Jewish Thought, which is a survey of, well, modern Jewish thinkers, and the Self, Soul, and Text track, which is a look at different spiritual practices in Judaism. The first is giving me a chance to learn about a lot of big names in Jewish philosophy that I've never formally studies, and the latter is giving me a chance to try out a lot of things I haven't done before, like meditation. This class particularly is really interesting to me, and also very challenging in a lot of ways - it turns out I have quite a few opinions about things like meditation, some of which aren't very positive.

Settling in to life in Israel is definitely an experience - it's easy to see how I could get into the habit of going to class, coming straight home, and going to sleep, wash, rinse, and repeat. I'm trying very hard not to let that happen while also remembering that I've only been here for a week, and it's alright to be tired! Moving to a new country, starting school, and setting up an apartment are individually very exhausting things - doing all three at once is challenging. It's nice to have Shabbat to sleep in and relax a little, and not feel rushed or like I have to be anywhere or do anything specific.

Shabbat shalom!