No Laughing Matter

Children who have a physical impairment or disability tend to look different. Those without disabilities like to think of ourselves as unbiased. We like to think everyone is the same. It doesn't matter how they look, we'll treat them just the same. This is not the reality, though, and we tend to favor those who are more "attractive" and treat them differently. It doesn't matter whether they are handicapped or not. In the classroom in which I work, there are three "normal" looking children, the other two clearly have eye problems (one boy has one yellow eye and one wandering eye and one of the girls has her eyes are always closed), and the last one is albino and there's a boy with, I think, William's Syndrome.

Now, I know you're not supposed to have favorites, but I do. All teachers have favorites even if they pretend that they don't. The two that are my favorite (and everyone else's) are the cutest of the bunch. I try my best to play with all the kids equally and think for the most part we all succeed in that, but I think that subconsciously I may treat one kid differently. Maybe I'm not as interactive with one kid. Or maybe my tone of voice is slightly lower. Maybe my body language gives a slightly more negative message. We all do this with people.

Maybe the fact that the other teachers and I are paying slightly more attention to the cuter ones increases their progress. Because their progress increases, they are able to continue a "normal" life. Because they are praised and played with so much, they may be more outgoing. Maybe because we might praise them more, they will have more self confidence. Isn't is sort of eerie how one moment can affect a child's life forever? So maybe the kids with physical impairments wouldn't be as successful anyway. People judge and presume. Their self confidence is not as high, their self esteem is definitely low, and since their "attractiveness" isn't as high as maybe some other kids with similar handicaps, it all adds up to not being as successful. This is a general observation and can be applied to anyone, handicapped or not. Maybe people who are more "attractive" are outgoing because they know they are more likely to get positive feedback (ie a cute kid sitting looking around may get a smile from someone) whereas more withdrawn people are afraid to act out because they will not get the same feedback (A funny looking child who looks around may not get any feedback at all)

I'm used to these kids now. I don't give a second glance to the yellow-eyed boy, but when I first met him my first reaction was "why is there pus in his eye?" This kid isn't the cleanest one either. His hair is always a mess (and hopefully he'll be turning 3 soon so that it will be cut. There's a tradition in the orthodox community not to cut a boy's hair until age 3), there's always snot running down his nose, and there's food on his face. Even if this kid came in with 20/20 vision, I think I would have been a little grossed out. As a parent, you should make sure your kid is clean. I understand that there are bad days, so I'll give you a little leeway, but seriously, wash the kid's face after breakfast.

I think that it would be interesting to look at this in more depth. To study and research the psychological outcomes of attractiveness. I know that there is some research on it. Another research topic that would be really interesting to look at is the psychological state of the residents in Sderot. We went to Sderot on Wednesday, the place where rockets are shot from Gaza. We were told that during rocket fires, you have fifteen seconds to find a shelter. The citizens in the town will find shelter, wait for the boom of the rocket, and continue on as normal. That is not a way to live life. That is not the way for a child to grow up.

Thinking about going to Sderot didn't scare me...until we got there and the Madricha warned us about "Tzeva Adom", the alarm system warning us of rockets. She said that it probably wouldn't happen because "the rockets are now infrequent. Maybe once a week." Um, yea, that's still pretty frequent in my eyes. We wouldn't be outside for that long, but just in case the alarm went off, we were to cram into the nearest bomb shelter or sandwich between the buses. When we were allowed time for lunch, everyone sort of stayed together. Usually we're together, but we'll spread out around a block or two, but here we all squished into one falafel restaurant. You could feel the compromise of our safety.

In Sderot, we heard different organizations talk, from both the right wing and the left wing. One NGO called Other Voices talks to citizens in Gaza frequently, about once a week. (The juxtapositions of frequency was just as ironic when I was there). One lady told her story and I came to realize that whether her not her story is true, it is a metaphor for the behavior of Israelis and Palestinians. Her daughter was best friends with an Arab girl (they were living in Egypt at the time) and the Arab invited everyone to her birthday party, except the daughter. The Arab mother would not allow a Jew into her home. When it came time for the daughter's birthday party, they decided to have it at a venue that was not home and the Arab mother allowed her daughter to go. Everyone is now friends and still speaks to each other. That's the short version.

We then went on a bus tour of the city, stopping first at the police station where the rockets were collected. When I first looked at them, I couldn't help but think "Oh, this happened a long time ago" History stuff. But then the tour guide noted the date written on one of the rockets. September 2010 (i don't remember the exact date). That was just last month. Conflict is still going on. I mean, duh, I knew that, but it's not the same when Sderot is still a foreign place. It was just a place I heard of from the news. A small town on the edge of Gaza. That's exactly what it is, but now that I've been there it's more real. More tangible. I have more connection with it.

We stopped at an outlook and saw Gaza. This is the only place where I took a person picture. One of myself only to prove that I was there. Everywhere else on the trip, I did not think such pictures were appropriate. I think that it would have been ok if those who were in the pictures weren't being so laxed about the situation, but I don't think that it's a laughing matter to have to have so many bomb shelters within a certain amount of feet. It's not funny or a happy situation that there are thousands of rockets laying in the police station. Later when we went to Gush Katif, a settlement in Nitzan also by Gaza, people were taking satirical pictures inside the bomb shelters. I think that you do have to create jokes out of the situation, but for our group, I do not think that was appropriate. We all come from a place where was is distant. We haven't been in Israel long enough to start making jokes. I mean, at any point in the day those bomb shelters could go from beautiful graffitied concrete to saving our lives.

http://picasaweb.google.com/112163354927968040752/Sderot?authkey=Gv1sRgCL7Lv8CYw861vQE#

All Work and no Play...Oh Wait

My internship started last week at a preschool called Gan Eliyah. There are four classrooms. One class is babies, though they range from 8 months to 2 years. Those on the older side have more developmental problem than seeing problems while the babies are more developmentally on track except for the processes affected from their eyes. The second classroom is ~2 to 3 years old. In this class, all the kids are basically developmentally normal, but they have seeing problems. They can walk and talk and comprehend which is better when it comes to a relationship with the child. The third classroom is also 1-3 year olds, but the have developmental problems as well as seeing problems. The fourth classroom is a kindergarten, the kids are 4 or 5 and the majority of them are normal. There are 2 kids who are completely blind and 2 or 3 kids who are partially seeing-impaired. These kids, since they're older, can talk and play, etc.

The first day in a new classroom is always hard. You don't know the kids. They don't know you. With babies, it especially hard to form a relationship because they don't talk at all and they mostly sleep the whole day. The older kids are speaking Hebrew and they speak slow enough so I can understand, but not always clear enough. Plus, they are still learning the language themselves and when they mispronounce a word that sounds like a real word, I just stand there thinking "what are you saying???". One of the girls in the Gan said to me "You don't speak well." Well, thanks for boosting my confidence. Also in the Gan are two kids that speak English and I don't think they knew that I also spoke English and when I said something to them they were baffled. Since they are the only two that speak English, they pride themselves on it and don't like that I know what they are saying. The boy, however, gave in when I helped him find his shoe which was in the chest of dress up toys. The girl still has yet to say something nice to me.

My schedule was very erratic last week since my supervisor didn't really know when she needed me, but she made a set schedule for me. I'm working 4 days a week, including Sundays and Fridays. Most Israelis work Sundays, but not Fridays. So, my days off are Wednesday and Thursday, when no one else has a day off and I'm the only one in the Kfar Studentim (where I live). It will give me time to go to the shuk and clean which as of I now, I desperately need to do, there just won't be anyone to go with. I'm going to try to ask for one of the weekend days off instead of one of the weekday ones.

Also, instead of being in all 4 classrooms in the course of a week, I am now with one room, the 1-3 year olds. The kids are so adorable, one of them reminds me of my sister when she had glasses. (Sorry Leah). His parents are American so if I get frustrated with him, I can just speak in English. Although, he has not been a problem at all. He's very sweet. Another girl is just learning to speak and her favorite word is "Todah", but she mostly just says "dah". This got me thinking about the psychological process of learning. "Dah" is the easiest cluster to say, but in America we assume it's "dada" and we praise the child or repeat "Dada, daddy, etc." In Israel "Dah" is short for "Todah", but even if the child say "Dada" it sounds like "Todah" and the child is praised for that word instead. The cutest girl in the class (I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but she's also the baby of the class so there's the justification) has the wide eyes and she is just about to walk. By the end of November, she will definitely be walking and standing on her own. There's one boy who is partially blind and fussy. There's 2 other boys in the class, but I don't know what's wrong with them. Most of the kids in the class have an astigmatism in their eyes and/or have a lazy eye.

My internship is basically the only thing I'm doing because after being out of my apartment for 12 hours, I don't feel like going out or doing anything. I also don't have weekends off (yet) so whenever I'm chilling with friends, I'm usually about to fall asleep. What I'm saying is don't expect any interesting posts or pictures for a few weeks. I think we have a seminar in a few weeks in Sderot and one in Ein Gedi so you can expect pictures then.

Reality Check

When you go to a country, you see the glorified sites. You may see people and their culture, but you don't actually know how their daily lives are affected by the politics, ecomony, religion, and geography. You can know the history and the people inside out, but until you hear the personal account in the place they actually were, you really don't know what life is like.

This week, Career-Israel took us to the Golan Heights. I have been here before. Twice. I know that it was during the Six Day War and Yom Kippur War in the 1960s and 1970s that Israel captured and then defended this territory. I know that this was the 3rd territory that She was fighting in the 60s. I know that Hezbollah is across the border in Lebanon. I know that war was fought. I know that people died. None of this felt as real as it did this week.

On Wednesday, we drove up to Misgav Am, a kibbutz on the ceasefire line between Israel and Lebanon. The guide there gave a brief history of the Six Day War as well as a personal history so that when we asked him questions, we would know where he was coming from.  He is a 70 year old man originally from Ohio. He made Aliyah 50 years ago and served in the army as a paratrooper during the multiple wars that Israel was involved in. He is currently a farmer on a Kibbutz enjoying his warrior life. He talked about how in 2006 he was in the Kibbutz, trying to stay alive. How the missiles just missed the Kibbutz because Lebanon didn't know the exact location of the kibbutz and didn't want to undershoot for fear of hitting their own land. When we were finally allowed to ask questions, he prefaced that he has strong opinions and that if we wanted to argue that was for the bus, not for here.  I actually agreed with most of what he had to say, unlike a lot of the program which goes to show how Right the people on the program are. In addition to Misgav Am, we went to a cemetery where the highest and best soldiers are buried. Right outside the cemetery walls, were 3 memorials for 3 fallen soldiers who had been in the North in 2006. These people became real to me not only after seeing their pictures, but also when the tour guide mentioned that she is best friend's with the cousin of the soldier that died.

On Thursday we went hiking through some old Syrian bunkers. The Israeli knew which bunkers were Syrian because there was a spy. Eli Cohen was born in Syria, but lived most of his childhood in Egypt hence able to pull off being Arab when necessary, as it was in his Israeli-CIA job. The Syrians, at this point, still had control of Golan and it was a hot, humid, and sticky place to set up base camps. Being the "generous" man that he is, Eli Cohen gave the Syrian army Eucalyptus trees so that they would be more comfortable. Now, Israel was able to tell where the Syrians were located so when it came to the Six Day War, Israel knew exactly where to bomb. The Golan heights was won is is as we know it today, Mines and all. During the Six Day War, Syria could see Israel coming so they threw mines everywhere hoping that if Israel captured the land, they at least wouldn't be able to use it. However, they never marked where they are and every so often, there will be a cow in the field that will suddenly blow up. It was obvious as hiked, why Golan was and is such optimal territory. After the hike, we drove to a look out of the Syrian-Israeli border where our tour guide gave us a short history of the Yom Kippur war. He told us about the "surprise" attack Syria planned and Israel had no way of contacting the reserves because there was no radio or tv waves on this day. At the site, there was a group of Israeli soldiers who were being lectured about the samething, but by someone who was actually there. We listened for a few moments, but because he was speaking Hebrew, it was difficult to understand him. After hearing the full story of the Yom Kippur War and then the tour guide pointing out that, there, a few feet in front of us was someone who fought through the whole experience into perspective.

Now that I've been here a month, I've had a chance to re-immerse myself into Israeli culture. I've spoken with Israelis about real issues. What you don't realize is that war is not in the forefront of the Israeli mind, but it's not in the back either. This trip showed the reality of what Israel is. I love that Tel Aviv is the most secular city in Israel and the Jerusalem is the most religious, but Golan is the reality of what Israel is. In America, war is so distant. Physically, it is across an ocean. Emotionally, not many of us know someone who is currently in the army. On average, I doubt that many Americans encounter soldiers. To us, war is something of the past, of my grandparents' generation. The fact that war is such a prominent subject in Israel doesn't deter me from Israel. In fact, it just makes my connection even stronger. Look at what this tiny country can do. Look at how small the army is, at the patriotism. Forgetting the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, everyone here feels such pride and passion for their nationality and heritage.

Wednesday after the lecture at Misgav Am, half the group went to an Arab high school to speak with the students there. 100 Jews. 100 Arabs. We were given questions to ask each other so that we could keep the conversation going. Everyone had a different experience. The girls I talked to kept their answers relatively light, but when asked the question "do you believe in G-d?" one of the Jews said "maybe yes, maybe no. I don't know." They were in disbelief. They couldn't grasp the concept that G-d does not have an affect on every little thing we do. One of the 16 year olds said that G-d is everywhere and everything to her. After about 20 minutes, we were asked to switch groups. The exact wording was "...non-Israelis will move to the opposite side of the room." As the facilitator continued with directions, everyone began to pick up their belongings. By everyone, I mean both Jews and the Arabs. This was then clarified by saying "our visitors". That whole moment, though, was very interesting, especially since the next question was "do you know all the words to Hatikva?" These 11th and 12th graders were interesting to talk with. We didn't have to talk about the questions we were given so we talked about music, the village we were in, what they were doing after high school, etc.

The week in Golan was fun, but intense not only because of the whole subject of war, but also because it was time to say goodbye to my friends in Tel Aviv. Now that I'm in Jerusalem, I will not be able to see my closest friends from the program as often as I did. There's only 30 of us in Jerusalem and while I'm sure we'll all become good friends, we have all made our core group of friends who all happen to live in Tel Aviv.

Pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/112163354927968040752/GolanHeights?authkey=Gv1sRgCLXMhK3poZj_nAE#

Only In Israel

Only in Israel do they have signs at the beach that say "No Swimming" and people swim anyway.

Only in Israel do the lifeguards announce their departure from the beach, saying that it is dangerous to swim at night without a life guard

Only in Israel do they end such an announcement with "Chag Sukkot Sameach, Shabbat Shalom, Shana Tova Oomitooka, Gmar Chatima Tova."

Because the holiday of Sukkot began last Wednesday night, we had no Ulpan until Sunday. Almost everything is shut down for the weekend, so what do we do? We somehow manage to spend 4 hours on the beach a day. I have no idea how the time goes by so quickly. Seriously, I'm pretty sure, the world goes faster or something. The past few days, I have been there for the sunset and it is absolutely gorgeous. The colors and opaqueness are different everyday, as is the sunset itself. In the US, the whole sky changes colors, but here, only where the is does the sky change. If I look up, the sky is blue, but if I look straight ahead, pinks and purples fill the sky. This week, we also have from Wednesday to Saturday off because of Simchat Torah. My roommate and I went to Ki Kar Rabin (Rabin Square). There was a concert and people dancing obviously having a lot of fun, but we only stayed for a little while because the musicians kept blowing a fuse.

On Sunday, the madrichim took us to Yafo again. Apparently there was a miscommunication between the Hebrew teachers and the madrichim so I went on the same exact tour as I did the week before. There were two benefits though. One was that we went a little before sunset and seeing Yafo at night is so pretty. The other benefit was that they fed us. For free. We went to "Doctor Shakshuka" for dinner where we were surrounded by bread, tahini and other dipping sauces, couscous with soupy stew, and of course shakshuka. Shakshuka is an Israeli dish with tomatoes as the main ingredient. Every version differs depending on how you like it, but no matter what, there are eggs on top of the tomato sauce. I actually made some last week and it came out delicious! Being overstuffed and with the bus not leaving for another hour, a bunch of us decided to walk back to our apartment complex. It was a nice night out and a quick walk back. For part of the way, we strolled along the beach and the other part we walked through the empty shuk. It was a little sketchy, but also kind of cool. When you go to the shuk it's a bustle of people haggling  pushing each other out of the way. The smell of salmon and pomegranates fill the air. With the empty shuk, the smell of fish wafted through the air, but it was dead silent and filled with stray cats instead of religious older ladies.

My ulpan class is not just my program, but also a fine arts program called Betzalel. One of the people in my class was performing at a coffee shop on Tuesday and it also happened to be his birthday. He plays piano so he played a few songs in Hebrew and a few in French (he's from Paris) and then a bunch in English. Nothing brings people together like belting out the Beatles and Michael Jackson.

Recently in the afternoons, a group of us have been playing soccer in the park behind our apartment complex. There is been one Israeli boy who has been hanging around as we play so we invited him in. Yesterday, he was on my team and as we sat out (there were 3 teams) I had a real conversation in Hebrew. Woohoo. Never mind that it wasn't that long, but my Hebrew skills are definitely improving.

Also, and hopefully this works, here are pictures. I know there are some people you know, but I didn't know how to delete them.

http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=112163354927968040752&target=ALBUM&id=5522652659463816321&locked=true&authkey=Gv1sRgCKDp8YGUje6nnAE&feat=email

Call Me Crazy

But, Yom Kippur is actually one of my favorite holidays. After fasting, I feel so rejuvenated and re-energized and ready to start the new year. I do, of course, get bored in services, but some of the songs are really pretty and filled with emotion. There is such contrasts with the prayers. Some are upbeat and say "G-d, you are awesome and almighty" whereas others are more downtrodden, saying "Here are the sins we have committed and we are sorry" but either way both are beautiful and convey the exact content and sounds that should come with a Day of Atonment.

Here in Tel Aviv, one of the most secular cities in Israel, everything shuts down. There were no cars and no stores opened. When I wake up on a normal day, I hear children screaming, an ambulance whirring, and traffic honking. Yesterday when I woke up, I heard nothing. There was absolute silence. Well, except for the fire alarm that went off a few minutes after I woke up. I went to Kol Nidre, Shacharit, and Neillah at the same synagogue I went to on Rosh Hashannah. After Kol Nidre, as we were walking back, everyone emerged from their synagogue and meandered towards the main intersection, Melch George and Dizengoff. A sea of white took over the intersection and sang songs. Children and adults alike rode their bicycles through the streets and surprisingly, the children wore helmets. Israeli parents technically don't have the best parenting skills and judgement so this was surprising to see. It was kind of like Christmas, but we were apart of it. Imagine Boston shutting down for the day. No cars, no opened stores. Just people gathering together as people to mingle. It brings a peaceful mindset and a connection of community.

Pre-fast was a rush of showering and cooking food before services. Being stupid, I had agreed to go to the beach with some friends around 3 hoping to back around 4, but I forgot to factor in walking time and rinsing off time so by the time I got back to my apartment, I had half an hour before I was meeting my roommate. (She was at her grandmother's, who lives in Tel Aviv) Kol Nidre was quick and I still have no idea why services at home are over two hours. Afterwards, I got back and chilled with some friends and ironically discussed the topic of starvation. The topic in question was "do people die of starvation in America?" Because I am from Democratic Massachusetts and the person I was discussing this with is from Kansas, we had different views. And I learned, this is not the only thing we disagree on, as we had another friendly disagreement about stereotypes the next day. (I feel so intellectual with these real topics!) The rest of my Yom Kippur consisted of Shacharit services, a nap, and Afternoon Services/Neillah. During Mincha, afternoon services, the Book of Jonah is read. Sadly, I have only heard it read on Yom Kippur maybe four times in my life, yesterday being the fourth. However, unlike the last few times, I was into the story and could sort of understand the story by reading the Hebrew, instead of the English. When Neillah began, I was surprised at the number of people that showed up. People were outside, listening through the windows as the sounds of the shofar swept through Rachov Borgachov.

For break-fast, a bunch of us went out for dinner at a place creatively names "Pizza." It is supposedly the best pizza place in Tel Aviv, but it was hard to judge because after 26 hours of no eating, almost anything is delicious. Although, honestly, I wasn't that hungry the whole fast, just wicked thirsty. After dinner, we went to the beach to chill and hang out. The beach has become more than just a place to swim. Everyone hangs out there and someone from the program is always there, day or night. The beach has become like a lounge in our little bubble between Rachov Allenby and Rachov Dizengoff.

For ulpan on Sunday, we went to Yafo for Hebrew class. I would tell you about it, but the tour was in Hebrew and I looked at the scenery instead of paying attention. All I can tell you is that there's a wishing bridge where if you stand at your Astrological sign and wave  your hands towards the sea (not the ocean. Israelis get mad when you say "ocean" because even though it's just as salty, it's a sea), and make a wish, your wish will come true. Other than that, all I have are the pictures.

Chof Hashannah

Before I talk about my Rosh Hashannah, I want to first talk about one of my favorite prayers. Aveinu Malkeinu, which means "my father, my king" is sung in a minor key. The tune is beautiful and I think that it captures the true spirit of both Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur, which is on Saturday. The translation of the whole chorus is: Hear our Voice, Lord our G-d, pity and be compassionate to us, and accept--with compassion and favor--our prayer. I know it sounds cheesy and very religious, but it also captures exactly how I feel on these holidays. 

Unlike the last time I was in Israel, I went to services on Rosh Hashannah. Oh, but don't worry. The awkward experiences were still present.

My friend and I called some host families and invited ourselves over for dinner. Both were in the same area, but one family was definitely more welcoming than the other. Wednesday night, we arrived at the Family's apartment only to discover that no one was dressed. We were early, but not so much so that there was reason for the father to be strutting around in his boxers. The oldest daughter, around 4, was combing her hair in her underwear and her 1 year old sister was waddling in just a diaper. The kids I can at least understand. It's hot, they just bathed, there was some kind of tantrum. But neither the mother nor the father were dressed and my friend and I waited over half an hour for them. When they were finally ready, we crossed the street to the shul. Ten minutes later, services were over. Fastest Erev Rosh Hashannah Service ever. We could have gotten there late, but I don't really know because the women were put in a separate room where you couldn't see or hear anything. Literally. We faced a wall. At dinner, we blessed and ate all the things you are supposed to eat. That's fine, but it just took forever. Like over an hour to bless the apples, honey, dates, pomegranate seeds, 2 types of latkes, sweetened beans, carrots, and the head of a fish. Once dinner actually began, there was total silence. Except for the 1 year old screaming "abba, abba!" The father knew no English and the mother stopped talking to us at a certain point despite my Hebrew speaking skills and my friend's ability to understand Hebrew. By the end of the evening, the mother whispered to the father that we should do After-meal blessings so that we could leave. My friend and I were happy to leave these quirky parents.

Shacharit, morning services, probably began around 9, but my friends and I arrived at the conservative shul well after 10. And we were not even close to being the last ones. Some couples arrived after the Haftarah. It was a one room synagogue obviously built as a place of learning. There are benches along the perimeter with tables partnering up with the wooden seats. Bookshelves stuffed with the Tanach, prayer books, and commentary sat towards the door. Oh yea, this as also an American-based synagogue. Israelis are either very religous or not at all so the in-betweens are usually Americans or other Jews who have made Aliyah. Because it was an American-based synagogue, there was English translation in the prayer books and the cantor translated some of what he was saying into English. Services ended a little after one and we walked back, ate a quick lunch, and went to the chof (beach).

In my opinion, there is nothing halachically wrong (kosher) about going to the beach on Rosh Hashannah. I didn't go swimming because I felt that that wasn't appropriate, but I saw nothing wrong with going to the beach on Rosh Hashannah. Although it was the first cooler day in a week, it was still pretty hot out so the beach breeze felt nice.

For dinner, the girls the I went with and I ended up in the same neighborhood as the night before. This time, though, the family was much more welcoming. The mother was 35 with 5 kids ranging in age from 2 to 9 and those kids were adorable. Food-wise, dinner was the same, except that we had dessert at the end. The Mother seemed genuinely interested in getting to know the 6 strangers she brought into her house. The Father still didn't say much, but he spoke to us a little.

For the second day of Rosh Hashannah, I went back to the shul alone. The people I went with the day before wanted to sleep. There were less people there and less children. If I understood the rabbi correctly, then I think he talked about the history of the Shofar. Of course, there were a few words (ok, more than a few) that I didn't understand so he could have been saying something else about the Shofar.

It was a very melodic (and English-translated) service so I will be heading back there for the fast on Saturday.

Jerusalem to Tel Aviv

I had my interview for my internship: working with seeing-impaired children. But, for all I know, I could be working at some illegal underground operation. Besides the fact that it took me 15 minutes to find the office, my boss-to-be spoke very little English so she decided that it would be a good idea to conduct the interview in Hebrew. It's not that I couldn't understand her, but I would like to know exactly what I'm getting into, not just bits and pieces. She showed me around the school I will be working at and the kids are adorable and the staff seems nice. My boss said that in addition to helping with the babies, I will also be helping with the physical, occupational, and speech therapies. I am excited for that since it may involve a final decision in my career choice.

I somehow found my way out of the building and into a taxi where I was driven back to the hostel in Jerusalem to wait on the bus for an hour. We were supposed to go to the Jerusalem Mall, but we were cornered in by two very small white cars. My Madricha (counselor), who has a great Australian accent, eventually called the police to come tow the car, "but that could be in three weeks for all I know". We finally got moving, but our time at the mall was shortened before our tour of the Fence. Now, I'm sure the tour guide was a great guy, but...A) He spoke monotonously B) Had no accent to make fun of like the other tour guides we have had C) talked as if he was gonna die at any moment and D) Called settlements neighborhoods, which they are, but he refused to acknowledge that they were also settlements. This tour was given on the bus and there was A/C, we hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before because the tour of the Kotel Tunnels we took the night before didn't end until almost 1 am and we had to be up at 7 am. So, a lot of people fell asleep as we reached Gilo, The 8 Meter wall, and the best view of the Old City and the Dome of the Rock.

We then continued onward towards Tel Aviv to our new home, Beit Leni, where we would begin three weeks of Ulpan. We had taken a placement test a few days before, but I am convinced they just put names in a hat and placed us randomly. There are 6 levels and both my good friend and I were placed in level 4. She moved down a level and I moved up only to find out that that level was still learning past tense, which I have learned only a million times so I am currently in the highest Hebrew level. Woohoo! Go me.

My room at Beit Leni is temporary housing, luckily, because although it's spacious, there's nowhere to put anything, if that makes sense. I changed the set-up of my side so that I could at least have a head board, but my roommate's bed in basically in the middle of the room. We have a "kitchen", but no oven and the water here isn't the best. I'm not talking about taste, I'm talking about stream. I was in the middle of taking a shower (a cold one because the hot water button, called a Dood, wasn't working) and the water decided to stop working. So I basically had to somehow wash my hair without water. The water came back 2 minutes later and this happened for the rest of my shower. Needless to say, it was not fun.

The Madrichim planned events for us this week so we wouldn't be bored at night, which is really nice of them, but sometimes it's nice to relax after sitting in ulpan for 5 hours. A teacher came to talk about Rosh Hashannah (RH)  through various texts. And, not that I'm bragging or anything, but we spent a majority of the time on my comment. There were passages from Jewish texts. One said something like, on RH you stand before G-d in order to be judged. It is a day of sorrow and seriousness while in contrast, the other text said that RH was a joyous occasion full of dancing and eating. So we discussed the difference and like all conclusions when it comes to Jewish texts, we found none.  The Madrichim also got us into a dance club that is apparently relatively new in Tel Aviv. That was fun because, while I've briefly met most of the people on the program, it was nice to mingle and actually remember people's names. The only annoying thing about the club was the they had flashing lights and it felt like I was having a seizure. On the upside, though, there was an outside where you could have conversations in a normal tone.

I will post my Rosh Hashannah in the next post, but I didn't want to make this too long. So there's your update!