Hopped off the plane at TLV with a dream and a neon zip-up. The dream? Spend one amazing, life-changing, unforgettable month in Israel.
First step: take a taxi. At 4 am. To a place I've never been that basically rhymes with Banana. I used what I call 'camp Hebrew' to communicate with the driver. I've learned numbers from page-calling in services, and I know directions from a totally annoying song 6 year olds sang for two months straight. I arrived to Raanana by 4:30 and after giving up on arguing about being a block away from the destination, I rolled my suitcases right up to the Peleg house. Seeing Maya's shining face, in all of our tired glory, made me so happy! To land on a plane doesn't make you feel totally at home, but to be welcomed into someone's arms surely does.
I spent the subsequent several hours sleeping off the sleepless night (I couldn't resist Iron Man 3, and the flight was worse than RyanAir - loud, cramped and bumpy). Around 11 am, Maya and I made moves to the bus station toward Herzliya - a beach city about 15 minutes away, but an hour by bus. We caught up on the 48 hours of camp I missed, and swam around on a perfect empty stretch of ocean. Clear turquoise warm water, nice light waves, and enough sun to maybe make me not glow in the dark with paleness. Back at home, I organized myself and enjoyed family dinner with the Pelegs, shakshuka and nachos, the logical combination for an Israeli family who had lived in Mexico.
In the morning, another camp buddy, Rena, picked me up and I got to spend the morning with her and her 4-year-old cutie. Through a boreka and coffee, and a trip to pick her boys up from school, I got a glimpse of what moving to Israel looks like. Don't worry, it's not a serious consideration yet. She dropped me at the bus station which was so amazing because I couldn't have walked my 40 kilos of stuff a whole kilometer by myself.
This post makes it clear that, I love camp, working there was a great decision, and everyone from camp is just like a fairy godmother to me.
This trend continued when I arrived in Jerusalem (fast forward about 3 hours), and I was walking down Rivka street with all my junk, and I run into my camp friend Dita on the corner. Yes. Third camp sighting in a day. She helped me with my stuff, and to find Candace, my Northwestern friend who I'm staying with while here. Coincidentally, they are in the same year-long study program at the Pardes Institute for Jewish Studies, where I will be doing a three-week program while I'm here.
We got to Candace's apartment and I went into an unpacking frenzy, excited to suddenly feel settled somewhere for more than a few nights. In my organized chaos, I met Candace's roommate Molly, a Barnard alum who seems superchill and excited to start the Pardes program, too. It's lovely to be in the company of people who all have the same passion for learning, and I'm so lucky to have had that in Germany and again now in Jerusalem.
Speaking of Germany, I was delighted when my friend from the Germany trip, Mitzi, asked if I had dinner plans. I did not. We coordinated to meet on Emek Refaim, which coincidentally translates to 'Germany Colony' and is the happeningest boulevard in this part of town. On my walk, two wonderful things dawned on me:
1. All of these restaurants say Kosher because they are Kosher and I don't have to menu-scan! I can eat everything! Omnomnom!
2. These buildings, they're made of stone that's beautiful and so old. Thousands of years old. I'm at the epicenter of humanity's history. Cool.
We settled on Burgers Bar, an American classic on Emek. Splitting lamb sliders and a schnitzel wrap was arguably the best decision I have jointly made in a very long time. Oh, the satisfaction of a serious meat meal in such warm company! Mitzi is just the most kind, adorable, understanding and thoughtful human and she was such a good sounding board for all of my excitement and anxieties about being here.
We walked home, across a converted train track that's now a park, and then I had tea with Candace, made my bed, wrote this blog, and realized I am again, exhausted. You might even be exhausted, too, after reading this.
Things I didn't mention yet, in pairs:
There were two very smelly men on the bus in Jerusalem, so I changed seats twice. Foreigners and deodorant have a weird relationship.
My morning playdate had two shokos (delicious chocolate milk) today, and she's therefore the luckiest four-year-old in the world.
How I struggled to go through a turnstile with my giant duffel, a rolly suitcase and a tote bag (I ended up getting both in AND out.
All of the ridiculous questions security asked me on the way to Israel, and the zero questions asked on the way out of the airport....
My reactions to either Miley Cyrus' VMA performance and/or how I feel about Syria right now.
All I can think about right now is, well, not a lot anymore because I'm physically and mentally drained and as so many others, this blog will now end with a comment about how I am falling asleep.
