Jenny in Jerusalem

Seeing Double: Cultural Convergence

2011-05-14T15:38:00.000-07:00

There are American moments in Israel, and Israeli moments in America. In these situations I do a double-take. Then there are Israeli moments in Israel, and American moments in America. In these situations, I kick myself.

I will explain. Bear with the thesis, Sherlock.

With that, let's return to CHEESEburgers (see blog #1). What a glorious non-kosher, non-Israeli novelty! When I am in an Israeli restaurant and suddenly meat and cheese are found on the same menu, I just have to give in. It's like my gentile-ness emerges into the barbaric entity that it is, and "just say no" is lost to the lust for the luscious luxury. Well, okay, so it's really not like that at all. I exaggerate and alliterate in order to inspire your shock effect, but it probably was not as successful as I had hoped. Anyhow, I just prefer a cheeseburger over hummus and pita every now and then. To see meat and cheese on the same menu causes me to do a double-take and it just feels homey.

However, during a recent trip to the United States, I sensed that I must have been on candid-camera. At one moment, I was most assuredly in Israel. As I searched for a coffee shop in Charlottesville, Virginia, I spotted "Aromas Cafe" across the street. Really? Red and black ornamentation? I looked closer and saw "Mediterranean Cafe" on the window. I wanted to shout out, "Yeah! No kidding, since you stole the whole idea from the cafe that pushed Starbucks out of Israel!" This, my friends, is true, and I'm sorry to say there was not even a Starbucks in that shopping center of Charlottesville. And, I was not on candid-camera, it was just altogether weird without any embarrassment for me. While I may have brought Starbucks to the Commonwealth of Kentucky (sorry, but it's a true story), I didn't expect a wannabe of the quintessential Israeli c

afe to pop up near UVA. Just compare the website and the picture below (when I called you Sherlock, I meant to imply that you would have some detective work):

vs. the Real Aroma

Now, the other mentionable Israeli-moment in the USA came a

long while visiting DC. You see, many places in the city ask you to drop off your

bags as you walk through the metal detector upon entrance. I am just way too pro at going through security checks after being here in Israel for a couple of years. I start opening my backpack or purse whenever I walk through an entryway wherever I go. The only problem is, when this happens in America, I want to start speaking Hebrew to the security guards. "Toda, Adoni…I mean, uhh, thanks…"

Now, the double-takes can be fun--a little bit like snapping out of a dream. However, it's the worst once you realize that you are adapting all too well to the negative aspects of the culture or realize that you have not quite shed the negative aspects of your own.

This was most clear to me one day while waiting "in line" for the bus in Israel after first being here for several months. Of course, the line was much more like a blob of people, and when the bus came the blob pressed against me in unison. I was going to be last on the bus if I made it all. Now, pushing may be fair game sometimes, but that does not mean that it ever becomes right. Yet, suddenly, with a grand wave of chutzpah, I PUSHED! As soon as I did that, I realized "adaptability" isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be. I was just being a jerk.

In the same way, I have often wanted to kick myself while acting American in the States. There are many wonderful things about America, but the term "Super-size" is not one of them. When I first returned to the USA and ordered a Tall (small) coffee from Starbucks, I was astonished to hold the humungous cup in my hands! I politely asked the barista if the sizes had increased recently. The barista stared blankly and informed me that the sizes had never changed. So, it was me.

After going back and forth between Israel and the USA and becoming used to the smaller portion sizes in Israel where obesity is not on the same level as the States, I promised myself that ordering a large anything under any circumstances is simply inexcusable and unnecessary. Yet, how many times have I kicked myself as I re-enter my culture and put on my habits of the past. "Do you want to make that a large for $0.10 more?" In the moment, it all too often seems logical and desirable to say "yes." While all things are permissible, they certainly are not beneficial, and it's here I want to kick myself for having an "American" moment in America.

So, for better or worse, I have American moments in Israel and Israeli moments in America. Meanwhile, I give into cultural norms at times of which I am simply ashamed in hindsight, as I have Israeli moments in Israel and American moments in America.

Crazies Walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death

2010-10-10T12:20:00.000-07:00

At the risk of sounding cliche, ordinary life in Jerusalem often becomes extra-ordinary. I would guess that 40% of the population here even believes life is extra-terrestrial. Another 40% believe that they themselves are extraterrestrials. That means the other 20% are normal people, right?

Enter the Pareto principle (also known as the 80-20 rule). This principle states that "80% of the effects come from 20% of the causes" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pareto_principle). For example, you spend 20% of your day accomplishing 80% of your tasks. Twenty percent of the world owns 80% of the wealth, 20% of this blurb contains 80% of the pertinent information and so on. You get the point.

If we apply this principle to the population of Jerusalem, I have to believe that this final theoretical 20% actually exhibits 80% of the craziness. Actually, all prattle and joking aside, Jerusalem is seriously the dwelling place of some of the most--how to put this nicely--"interesting and colorful" people in the world.*** The "Jerusalem Syndrome," as it has come to be called, is real. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerusalem_syndrome). Some tourists claim to be prophets or think they are prophets from the past (Elijah is a popular choice). Many come to the Holy City and are mesmerized. I have met so many colorful people, I have come to the hard conclusion that every person living in Jerusalem is in fact crazy at some level, including myself.

Since I have self-diagnosed myself, it is difficult for me to judge exactly how crazy the rest of my environment is. I can only tell you how a group of us cope: we participate in moderately insane activities. Usually, this means we leave Jerusalem and head for the Judean Desert where we undergo quasi-survival training. On one dark and rainy occasion, a former Turkish military officer and a former Israeli soldier disputed over which wadi to follow in order to escape the desert slosh.

Other times, we have hiked through incredibly forceful wind that caused us to walk more diagonal than upright. We have drunk tea in bedouin tents, climbed atop Herodian fortresses where ancient mosaics can still be found, and made coffee in secluded caves overlooking an ancient monastery (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mar_Saba). Visited Israeli army bases? Check. Grilled burgers overlooking the Dead Sea? Yup. Packed Ben & Jerry's ice cream in suffering heat? That, too. Gotten lost? More than once.

These therapy tours always result in many crazy stories, and ironically they are what keep many of us halfway sane. Here is a youtube link chronicling some of these adventures as well as one trip to the Galilee in case you still don't believe me.

Watch Now

***"interesting and colorful" is a term employed by my pastor to describe many who visitor our congregation that meets in the heart of Jerusalem as we indeed meet many colorful people.

The State of My Union (It’s an Analogy, Silly)

2010-01-30T13:22:00.000-08:00

Kayta, a friend from Russia, and I in her new home of Munich, Germany.

In response to President Obama’s State of the Union address this past Wednesday, I, a regular American, would like to give a very personal account of this past semester.

Madam Speaker (AKA, Mom), Vice-Mom (Dad), members of my family, distinguished friends, fellow Americans, and President Obama,

Fourscore and twenty-four days ago, I returned to Israel from a short visit to the United States: that is, I returned to a country where America’s tax-dollar actually IS at work. And, no, I am not talking about the ubiquitous white UN vehicles mall-copping Jerusalem.

Initially, I flew from Washington, DC to Munich where I spent a few days with old friends from Russia. That was October, and I can say with confidence that our fight against Global Warming is breaking new ground: it snowed. Also, I’m happy to report that while in Munich I visited the BMW Museum and Plant. I will be forwarding my notes to GM because I trust that 2009 will be (one of) the last time(s) we bail out one of our top domestic manufacturers. As an American, I would like our country to develop a new motto. It calls for “change,” answers cries for “hope,” that is: If you can’t innovate, copy the Germans [Applause].

In order to progress towards a more peaceful world, in 2010 I hope that the United States will consider increasing its annual funding to Israel by an additional $1 billion dollars. This money must specifically be useOnce arriving in Jerusalem, I literally started my first semester of graduate work ten hours later. And, this, my friends, is my excuse for all communication failure over the past three and a half months. I quickly found out that “just getting by” is not such a bad goal after all. One of my first classes began with, my now favorite professor, passing around a sheet of paper: “Just write down your name and all of the ancient languages that you know. If you know Latin, don’t worry about writing it. It’s not ancient enough.” Such personal taunts are the reason that I am provoked to call for a bi-partisan initiative to produce an education bill that sees to it that no child (like me) is left behind. The Chinese don’t just know science and math, they are also pushing ahead in fields such as Ugaritic, Akkadian, and other long-dead languages. Both Republicans and Democrats need to consider increasing funding for all three Americans who are taking out loans to study such things for the years 2009-2011. Emm, smells like stimulus money…

In order to progress towards a more peaceful world, in 2010 I hope that the United States will consider increasing its annual funding to Israel by an additional $1 billion dollars. This money must specifically be used to combat the most comprehensive terrorist organization operating in Jerusalem: the rabid Jerusalem cats. They are scary, and they are EVERYWHERE in Jerusalem. In the restaurants. In the church. In the synagogue. In the school. Clearly, they are attempting to undermine every part of society. After many mornings of waking up to three screeching cats that decided to reside outside of my bedroom, I am happy to announce that they have retreated and have decreased in hostility. I would like to recognize my Dutch roommate, Mika, for chasing them out of the garden with water hose and screaming unintelligible “something like German” words at them. Even though she did use a lot of Israel’s most precious resource, water, that rabid network of terrocats now knows not to mess with Holland. [Long applause. Mika smiles, mouths “sit down” in Dutch]. She gets embarrassed [Laughter].

And blah, blah, blah, blah (who really pays attention to long addresses, anyway?). This is already way too long. Obviously, I am on break, and for now, I’m done writing in the style of a State of the Union Address. I should really post some pictures, make some video, and give a few details about my trip to Jordan, singing African American spirituals on the streets of Tel Aviv for Christmas, and other Israel happenings. I’m on a school break now, so that might happen in the next few days.

Until then, God bless you, and God bless the United States of America [Applause].

A picture from Jordan: a preview of coming events.

Jenny in Jerusalem: Summer Video 2009

2009-10-06T10:02:00.001-07:00

I am spending a couple of weeks in the States until I leave for Munich and then return to Jerusalem. Here is a youtube link that shows some videos and other photos that I took over the summer if you are interested:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWtLrbEGCIc

Count to Ten in Hebrew

2009-09-12T07:02:00.003-07:00

Realizing that it has been a little bit of time since my last entry, I will try to summarize as much as possible as quickly as possible. It had seemed that I had been studying Hebrew non-stop since I last wrote, but when I uploaded my pictures from my camera yesterday, I remembered that this month and a half has taken me on many small-scale adventures, non of which will help you if you are planning to tour Israel. I’ll attempt to share some aspects of my daily life and a few of these small-scale adventures while simultaneously teaching you to count down from ten in Modern Hebrew:

עשר (Eser)

10 New Israeli Shekels buys me a croissant and cappuccino from one of Hebrew University’s many coffee stands. Not bad. Thus explains my breakfast for three or four days out of the week. For some reason, in Hebrew, a “cappuccino” is called a “reversed coffee.” Will one of my barista friends please explain this logic?!?

תשע (Tshaw)

9 roommates have cycled through my apartment this summer: Theo, Justine, Mike, Pam, Helen, Josh, Alma, Yitz, Eric. You just never, ever know with university housing in a foreign country. Eek, is someone knocking?

שמונה (Smoneh)

8 centimeters stacked of whipped cream atop the iced coffee from Max Brenner’s. I have been there twice now with a new friend from church, Rachel. She prefaced the experience with, “If you ask for whipped cream, you have to pay, but you get what you pay for.” Laura Moore, every time I think of this, I think of you.

שבע (Sheva)

7 (and a half) weeks of intensive Modern Hebrew study is wearing me out. This coming Sunday actually begins week seven, and there are three more days of class after that. That’s 200 classroom hours of Hebrew. Thankfully, my teachers are terrific, and I am sure with their elementary speech, their persistent hand gestures, and their dry erase board drawings that they could communicate effectively with a deaf and blind chicken.

שש (Shesh)

6 trips to the Visa office finally resulted in my long-awaited Student Visa! If you, friend, need an Israeli Visa, I have connections in the Ministry of Interior, and that, will save you at least five trips.

חמש (kHamesh)

“5 Prices for the internet” is the excuse I am offering for writing nothing in the last month and a half. After the national internet company shut my internet down the first day of August, Jamil and I made an arrangement on August 3. Two hours later I received an urgent call, “Jenny, I need another credit card.” Mastercard appeared to be giving up on the company a little more quickly than I. When I told Jamil that I had no other credit card, he wanted my bankcard. At which point I wouldn’t budge—the company had already mishandled my credit card with scores of false charges, and bankcards are not so tough. Instead of giving Jamil another piece of plastic, I canceled. When new roommates arrived, I told them of the situation, and that I would be there for moral support if they attempted to face Bezeq in an effort to bring the World Wide Web back to the apartment. Josh spent most of August on the phone with Jamil and tens of others in the company as each part of the bureaucracy offered him a new price or a “special deal” just for him. In the end, Josh, too, canceled after never receiving a successful internet connection. The long-running joke in our apartment has become, “I will make the 'construction,' and you will be surfing the internet by tomorrow, okay Mister Josh?” Jamil said this on day 1, and Josh believed him. By the end of August, we all bought portable modems that connect through a cell phone network, realizing we could no longer afford to buy cheap.

ארבע (Arbaw)

4 days in suspense at the beginning of August left me dreaming of endless scenarios of what I would do with my remaining two months in Israel. Before the intensive Hebrew classes began (known as “Ulpan”), I emailed the school after noticing that I had not yet been charged for these classes. It was then I was told that I was not even registered. This proved at least a little nerve racking. If I wasn’t learning Hebrew at the university, what else could I be doing with two more months in Israel? I was put on the “waiting list.” I waited for an answer from the administration each day and met just about every person in the Hebrew department as I watched first hand how bureaucracy in the Land operates. I think I will just call it “relational” more than “systematic.” Like my visits to the Ministry of Interior, I learned that constant pressure, persistence, and building relationships with the “Who’s who” is more effective than following the guidelines when trying to achieve an end here.

שלוש (Shalosh)

3 person steak dinner: that’s what I split with Yitz and Alma at the only Argentine steakhouse in Jerusalem. I met up with my roommates for what I expected would be a cheap night out while we met one of Josh’s friends for dinner. The first restaurant was closed, so as we searched for another, Alma saw “Los Gauchos,” and her wanderlust eyes led her body inside. She spent a month in Argentina recently, and she has a hankering for red meat about twice a week, so soon following Alma’s impulses, we were all inside—Josh, his friend, Eric, Yitz, Alma, and I—eating some high quality red meat. Yitz didn’t think that Alma and I could eat our share when we ordered the “Steak Dinner for 3,” but he quickly found that not all females cower when faced with a juicy sirloin.

שתיים (Shtiim)

2 months rent is the amount of money I would have been outted if I had followed through in renting my apparent dream apartment in the perfect location, in the perfect part of town, for the perfect price. A long story short—I was almost completely scammed by what was likely a group of Nigerian Craigslist crooks. Bummer. I’m finding housing elsewhere…outside of the perfect part of town.

אחת (Achat)

1 Sign-Standing, Hula-Hooping Clown. I have no explanation for this, he just appeared at the corner of Agrippas and Ben-Yehuda in the trendy part of Jerusalem. I quite enjoyed it, and I want to share this with you.

A Note on Hebrew Language Learning and Humanities in General

My first month studying in Israel was spent in the building for overseas students. The last month and a half I have been inside the Humanities building on campus. Studying in Louisville, I always noted that there always seems to be a significant difference between those who are studying business and the sciences and those idealists studying in some discipline surrounding the humanities. I was reminded of this difference the day I began Modern Hebrew. I walked into the Humanities Building in the midst of some typical literature festival. Outside on the lawn, white tents, resembling the Bedouins in some modern-artistic license type way, were set up. People were lounging on pillows and rugs, and it was absolutely bizarre, but it was hardly different than the characters I have seen outside at UofL in the US. I mean, the French club would often bring some sofas into the quad and sit around drinking coffee and selling baked goods to support their already overfunded initiatives. If only they knew that some Humanities Departments in other parts of the world sell their baked goods and end up with modern Bedouin tents!

On the third day of class, the Humanities Department had another trick up their sleeves in the name of cultural appreciation. The Hebrew classes were invited to a Jewish-Israeli Shabbat sing-a-long. I have included a clip for your enjoyment. Only later did I see this sign in the hallway. The abstract art tells all. Was the study of humanities always aiming towards universal nonsense (yes, the emperor is NOT wearing any clothes), or is it just becoming so? I apologize for anything that may be interpreted as cynicism in trying to make this point.

*The picture in the opening paragraph was taken inside of Jerusalem's Archaelogical Park. The Western Wall (the part inside the park) is behind my friend Allen and me.

Root Letters and Shadows

2009-07-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

Dead Sea (Jordanian mountains in the background)

My first class of the summer is over, and I only wish that every class that I ever took could have been a five week concentrated intensive. I loved it. My classmates and professor were amazing; everything just clicked. I am so glad now that I chose to study Biblical Hebrew here from teachers who speak the language. One of my classmates, after a long explanation of the Hebrew root letters—most every Hebrew word is constructed from a three letter root—asked: “So you mean that Hebrew doesn’t just have words that are more abstract like English? Is it fair to say that every Hebrew word has a direct connection to something tangible that can be seen and felt?” My professor, an Israeli, shrugged like he was talking to a child, “Yes, well, of course."

Ein Gedi: "My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of Ein Gedi." Song of Songs 1

No, no, I know what you were thinking. “Are you, Jenny, speaking the language?” Thanks for making me feel uncomfortable. I start a Modern Hebrew course next week: there’s hope.

I wasn’t going to mention it, but “hope” is an interesting word, isn’t it? I can’t seem to pass up this opportunity. As soon as I typed it, my mind was unleashed after the events of today. In Israel, and in the Jewish nation, today, Tisha B’Av, was a day of fasting and prayer, lamenting the destruction of the temple. Every year, this holiday commemorates the fall of both the First and Second Temple. Only solemn scriptures can be read and mourning clothes are worn. I caught a tour of the Temple Mount (controlled by Muslims), and as I ascended the ramp and looked over the crowded Western Wall, my heart hurt. I love your Torah; I really, really, really love your Torah, Israel. I love your temple. I love that the glory of your God filled the temple (2 Chronicles 5). But it saddens me that your hope is set on Moses (John 5). Moses, not once, in his five books in which God gave the foundations for the tabernacle, the predecessor to your temple, spoke of “hope.” I empathized today, but I didn’t find myself reading only passages of lament; I found psalms of joy, for my hope is set on the righteousness not accomplished through a type or a shadow or a tangible representation that express an idea, like the temple, but the substance, the actual shed flesh and blood, of the Son of David (1 Peter 1, Hebrews 7 & 8, Colossians 2).

Site of the most famous underdog victory in history (1 Samuel 17)

Yes, I have done awesome, fun, things the last few weeks. Above you'll notice the Valley of Elah (1 Samuel 17), where David is said to have defeated Goliath. My school group stood from the Philistines’ base. Also I have uploaded pictures of Ein Gedi (see Song of Songs 1 and it is also believed to hosts the cave where David hid from Saul) and the nearby Dead Sea (the “Salt Sea” or the “Sea of Arabah” in the Bible). Visiting the places I have always read about will continue to be fascinating, I’m sure. Maybe when I have a string of more boring weeks, I will give more details.

Youtube Video

2009-07-11T03:40:00.000-07:00

I put some pictures and video of my layover in London on Youtube. I guess it was uploaded a couple of weeks ago, but I forgot about it. Ultimately, I was just messing around with my new camera, but if you are interested check it out and write really nice comments:
Layover in London

A Southern American in Jerusalem: “ShAy-bAt ShAy-Lom, Y’all! Where ‘re yer cheeseburgers?”

2009-07-09T09:41:00.000-07:00

Above: An icon some friends and I found in a jewel of a church tucked away in the Old City of Jerusalem. The small Greek Orthodox building is usually locked up, but somehow my friend met the lady with the keys in a gift shop. The Greek woman brought us to the church.

While you might have been celebrating the 4th of July in a traditional, patriotic, freedom loving, and culturally kosher manner—that is with a backyard barbecue—my American flatmate and I did our best to do the same. Of course, we ran into some difficulties here in Jerusalem.

Dilemma #1: We weren’t in America.
Remedy #1: We decided to eat cheeseburgers in the spirit of America.

Dilemma #2: Oh, wait, that’s right—here we go again. Jerusalem, in the spirit of Israel, is a Jewish city, and therefore seeks to keep kosher. What does that mean? For starters, dairy and meat aren’t allowed at the same restaurant, let alone the same meal. That’s a bit of a problem when you have a hankering for a cheeseburger.
Remedy #2: Find a non-kosher restaurant.

Dilemma #3: The 4th of July occurred on a Saturday this year. While that may be perfect for a celebration in the United States, Saturday is the Sabbath in Jerusalem. Most establishments are closed. Buses stop running. The city is quiet.
Remedy #3: Find a non-kosher restaurant open on “Shabbat” and improvise with the transportation.

Like our forefathers, rebelling against the establishment in the name of freedom and seemingly guided by Providence, my Gentile friend and I managed to find an open non-kosher restaurant in town. The restaurant, of course, was filled with other Americans devouring cheeseburgers and fries. Oh yes, and we could order our burgers “medium” or even “medium well.” We enjoyed our truly American experience so much that suddenly everything became American for the rest of the afternoon. Even the traditional Israeli Saturday greeting, “Shabbat Shalom” (peaceful Sabbath), became Americanized with a southern draw: “Shaaaaaay-bat Shaaaaaaaay-Lom, Y’all!”

Above: An advertisement I found in Tel Aviv that claimed to have a remedy for peace...I think it was imported from America...it didn't even bother with writing its message in Hebrew or Arabic: "Mutual respect, friendship, non-violence, integrity, fun."

In all seriousness, while cheeseburgers are hard to come by in this city, “once in a lifetime” experiences are the norm. One highlight from the last week centers around another trip to the Western (or “Wailing”) Wall. This time, I was on a night tour of Jerusalem with other international students studying at Hebrew University. We walked around much of the Old City as the guide told dozens of stories about the different sites. I’m finding that even if there is not a historical story to be told, the rabbis have passed some narrative along that usually is recounted to enrich the experience. Our tour guide informed us throughout this tour that the “Old City” is actually a misnomer since its walls and many of the attractions are “only” four hundred years old. I suppose that only sounds like a long time in the United States.

The Western Wall was the last stop of the tour, and we had reservations to explore the tunnel that runs along the part of the wall that is not visible from the outside. I will not take up space explaining the history of the tunnel here, but if you are interested, I will put an informational link at the end of this blog. The important thing is: if you go to Jerusalem, you MUST enter this tunnel.

Before I had heard that the Jewish temple was magnificent, but seeing the 2000 year old stones of the outer supporting wall, still in fabulous condition and incredibly ornate, there, before my eyes, was spiritual meat for my soul. When Jesus told the Pharisees, “Destroy this temple and I will raise it again in three days,” it’s no wonder they responded with, “It has taken us 46 years to build this temple…” Of course, John explains that the Messiah was talking about His body (the infinitely more glorious temple than the one made by man), but even so, Jesus’ statement in front of this temple was surely poignant. There was one point in this tunnel tour where the wall stood on our right, and we found ourselves standing on the actual Roman road where the temple market would have been. How provocative to think who might have walked these very roads…
Again, this was a night tour of Jerusalem, and by the time our group had made it to the Western Wall, it was already midnight. I naively thought that the Western Wall would be mostly deserted at this time, but instead I found it much busier than my first Saturday afternoon visit. The video below gives you an idea of what I saw.

Soon, I hope to report on more of the mundane here in Jerusalem because I have found much to enjoy in what is becoming daily life, but I’ll finish this update with a blurb about Jaffa and Tel Aviv.

Basically everyone I had talked to, Israeli and tourist alike, had warned me that Tel Aviv is basically the opposite of Jerusalem (secular, modern, beachy, etc). I saw very little of Tel Aviv during my short visit to the two adjoining cities, but I found Jaffa absolutely charming, and no one told me to expect that. The city overlooks the Mediterranean and, if I were dreaming and this place were to appear in my dream, I would have thought that I was looking at a Greek island (okay, I have never been to a Greek island, but I have seen The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Parts 1 and 2). Only right before I left did one new friend suggest that this town is mentioned in Acts as “Joppa,” where Simon Peter stayed with Simon, the tanner, after he prayed and called Tabitha from the dead. Here, Peter also received his vision to go to the Gentiles and met with Cornelius. Since the group I went with was mostly Jewish and our tour guide’s English was fairly broken, this story almost went forth unnoticed. Quite fitting I suppose. It’s habit now to carry a small copy of the Bible basically wherever I go because opportunities to pair a setting with a text are all around. This was one of those scenarios.

A view of Tel Aviv from Jaffa

Western Wall information: http://english.thekotel.org/content.asp?id=116

First Days in Jerusalem

2009-06-28T12:48:00.000-07:00

I feel like I could write a book about my first week in Jerusalem: but I won’t. After debating about what should show up on this blog, I plan to just keep it simple for now. Maybe later I’ll add some more personal reflections, but I think the real pearls will develop in time. If you are interested in the more personal things, just email me and ask for specifics. ;)

Monday, June 22: I took off from Dulles International at 11pm, hoping I didn’t forget to do anything too important. This Virgin Atlantic flight was heading for London, and I first noticed the zany outfits the flight crew was wearing. Only later did they announce that Virgin Atlantic was celebrating its 25th birthday that day and this would at least account for the bunny ears and the googley eyes. Still, it didn’t explain VA’s colors: purple and red?
The flight was full and stuffy. I ended up sitting next to a guy from London who had been to Israel before. That was a treat! He gave me lots of pointers for my eleven hour layover in London, and the preacher even recommended a church in Israel.

Tuesday, June 23: With my new English friend’s recommendations (along with those I got from my cousins, Jordan, Dani, and Jessie), I decided to play London a little bit by ear. I had a great experience from the start. Even the customs lady (who at fist appeared as intimidating and unapproachable as any customs official) gave me tips for getting around. The best part about all of this of course, was that in this foreign country everyone speaks English and they say words that we Americans don’t use nearly enough, like “lovely” and “quite” in fabulous accents.

Wednesday, June 24: I arrived at Ben-Gurion Airport at 5am in the morning. Since I was fairly close to the university, I waited in the airport for a while until it might make any sense to try to go somewhere. I ended up taking a group taxi from Ben-Gurion to Jerusalem. I expected to find a van full of a bunch of Hebrew banter, but instead the other ten customers were speaking Russian! Ha! I can only hope that I remember more of that language now. One funny thing that happened on the taxi ride: a babushka who sat in the back with me was, in true babushka fashion, attempted to figure out the taxi driver’s route for him. She would point to me and say, “the university,” and do the same with every other customer’s intended drop-off point. She continued to refer to one elderly lady as “diplomat,” it seemed. I was absolutely in awe, attempting to figure out with what type of diplomatic affairs this other Russian speaking lady involved herself. And what a spartan! Riding the group taxi! At about the third drop-off point, I realized those affairs. The “diplomat” was in fact dropped off at a retirement community on “Diplomat” street. So much for thinking I spoke some of the language.
The group taxi allowed me to see much of Jerusalem I would not yet have seen otherwise. The hills (or mountains?) were what immediately caught me off guard. Jesus apparently went on some serious hikes. Once I was dropped off at the university, I was basically lost, trekking through a new place with all of my luggage, hoping to find the international center. I did. Things went smoothly from there, except that I hadn’t slept since Sunday night and I continued to snap my head back and forth during orientation to stay a wake.
The best part of the day: once I finally arrived at my new living quarters in the Student Village, I walked into my 9th story room, opened my window, and wow! My view of Jerusalem is AMAZING. In fact, it matches the picture on the cover of my Jerusalem guidebook. As I write, looking out my window, with a cool dry breeze coming through as the sun is setting to end Shabbat, I hardly believe this experience is mine to relive and enjoy.

Thursday, June 24: I started my first day of Biblical Hebrew, and once again worked with every bone in my body to combat the jetlag. Thankfully, this intensive course covers things I have at least looked at before and starts with the very basics. Whew.

Friday, June 25: A roommate and I met my former Hebrew professor in the Israeli market. This day will prove pivotal, I’m sure. It was my first experience navigating the city via the public transportation. Like my teacher’s little baby, I felt the market was a positively overstimulation to my senses. The city was in a rush trying to prepare for Shabbat. Certainly, I will get used to this.

Saturday, June 26: My roommate (who has since left) and I ventured out to the Old City through the Damascus gate and to the Western (or “Wailing”) Wall. Once we came out, we found “Charlie,” a guide who brought us to the Mount of Olives, where we saw a great view of the city. After that, we went to Bethlehem. Truly, it was too much to soak up in a day, and I will need to do these things at a slower pace, but I have a while to do that.