So a few weeks ago, I returned to Canada from my five month voyage to Israel (and a brief stop in Zurich, Switzerland). I already miss the language, hearing little kids speak hebrew, the great food, the sensuous smells, the chaos and the holiness. But being home has its comforts too - its nice to host others, rather than always being hosted and its great to continue my 'real' life, get excited for the summer and start my great internship.
Since I've been back, I've realized that it's hard to remember everything you learned abroad. It's easy to forget you spent five months in another country, learning and growing from others around you. What I've learned is that all the answers I thought I would have by now don't exist. I've learned that I have more questions - about the Arab-Israeli conflict, about the future of Israel, about the value of education and about the possibility of world travel and new experiences. I may not have all the answers, but I feel I have gained from my time abroad, enough to know that those experiences were valuable and necessary for my education. And when I bring them back to my final year of my undergraduate study program, I know I can make a meaningful contribution to my academic career and the educational institute I will be in.
Thoughts about the everyday events going on today and what we can do to make a difference
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Getting close to the end
With just under a month left to go, my time in Israel seems very precious. I'm not sure when I will be back but I hope it will be soon. What is it about this land, that makes us yearn to be here, fight over this valuable land, die for this land?
Last week I visited the tombs of the patriarchs and matriarchs in Hevron, a mostly-Arab town. It surprised me how easy it was to get there. We went to the regular Jerusalem bus station and took a bus for an hour and arrived right in front of these tombs. The minute we got there, we heard the afternoon Arab call to prayer. It was ironic, or perhaps a little sad, that this holy Jewish site is now surrounding by those that do not value it. When you walk inside, you are immediately struck by the intricate designs of these caves. Beautiful patterns decorate the wall, but if you look closely, you see that the walls are covered in Arabic writing (which I could not read - new goal in life: learn to read Arabic), which shows us the transfer of power throughout history: a once Jewish site was once controlled by Arabs and is now back in the hands of Jews.
It's striking that by traveling only an hour away you enter a completely different world: Arab children playing with goats and chickens, broken down homes with rooster pens, and, sadly, the appearance as if this town is in a third world country. Why can I travel such a short distance and suddenly appear in an opposite world? I wish I could understand the reasons for these differences - is there someone we are to blame? Is it the Israelis? or is it the lack of self-determination and the Arabs refusal to become independent? Is there a way out of this situation? I know attempting to make a town like this more developed by simply providing them with higher technology tools might not solve anything, but is there something we can do?
It seems to be that the Arabs feel, and are, stuck: they have lived in these conditions for so long, it's hard to imagine anything else. But that is precisely the problem. The Jews in the early creation of Israel refused to live in these conditions and so they began to develop the country. Why has this technique failed in Arab villages? Has this technique ever been attempted?
And finally, what does the future predict for these Arab villages? Can we expect any sort of change?
Last week I visited the tombs of the patriarchs and matriarchs in Hevron, a mostly-Arab town. It surprised me how easy it was to get there. We went to the regular Jerusalem bus station and took a bus for an hour and arrived right in front of these tombs. The minute we got there, we heard the afternoon Arab call to prayer. It was ironic, or perhaps a little sad, that this holy Jewish site is now surrounding by those that do not value it. When you walk inside, you are immediately struck by the intricate designs of these caves. Beautiful patterns decorate the wall, but if you look closely, you see that the walls are covered in Arabic writing (which I could not read - new goal in life: learn to read Arabic), which shows us the transfer of power throughout history: a once Jewish site was once controlled by Arabs and is now back in the hands of Jews.
It's striking that by traveling only an hour away you enter a completely different world: Arab children playing with goats and chickens, broken down homes with rooster pens, and, sadly, the appearance as if this town is in a third world country. Why can I travel such a short distance and suddenly appear in an opposite world? I wish I could understand the reasons for these differences - is there someone we are to blame? Is it the Israelis? or is it the lack of self-determination and the Arabs refusal to become independent? Is there a way out of this situation? I know attempting to make a town like this more developed by simply providing them with higher technology tools might not solve anything, but is there something we can do?
It seems to be that the Arabs feel, and are, stuck: they have lived in these conditions for so long, it's hard to imagine anything else. But that is precisely the problem. The Jews in the early creation of Israel refused to live in these conditions and so they began to develop the country. Why has this technique failed in Arab villages? Has this technique ever been attempted?
And finally, what does the future predict for these Arab villages? Can we expect any sort of change?
Friday, April 16, 2010
Holocaust Memorial Day - Yom Hashoah
Last week, we were privileged to attend a Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Memorial Day) ceremony at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem. After making it through three different rounds of security (bag checks, answering questions, more bag checks and the new check to detect any chemical residues on our hands in the last 24 hours), we arrived at Yad Vashem. The ceremony was outdoors with thousands of people from all over the world sitting together, watching this historic, heart-wrenching event. A memorial candle was lit by Rabbi Israel Meir Lau, Chairman of the Yad Vashem Council.
The President of Israel, Shimon Peres, also delivered a speech (in quite difficult Hebrew, that actually required us to put in our translator headphones). He said that the victims of the Holocaust later became the state builders of Israel and for that, and so much more, we will always remember their legacy. There are two imperatives, he said, we must always remember: we must maintain our Jewish state, and build up our defense strongly, and we must take seriously threats of annihilation, like those coming from Iran. We can never allow a regime to stand forth and declare that their race or religion is superior - it is our responsibility to ensure no regime can ever do so again. He then turned to a Holocaust survivor sitting next to him and said, "Jewish history salutes you." He concluded with a powerful statement: No other nation has been beaten like the Jews, and no other nation has rebounded like the Jews."
Prime Minister Netanyahu also delivered a moving speech, which we were mostly able to understand in Hebrew. We are all sitting there today because, before their deaths, the Holocaust victims and heroes begged us never to forget them, to tell their stories. It was ironic, that after a week of beautiful weather, that night it was freezing cold. The wind was so strong and since many of us did not know we would need jackets, we sat shivering in our seats. Perhaps we were supposed to understand a tiny taste of what it is like to sit in cold, windy weather without any means of comfort (of course, ours was on a minuscule level, but I believe that any way we can learn to connect our lives with the Holocaust survivors is important, because by making these connections, we ensure we do not forget them). PM Netanyahu asked us: from ashes and dust, Israel came about. Did we learn anything from their sacrifices? We learned, and we must continue to learn, three important lessons:
a. To protect the good and fight against the bad. In every generation, there are those who stand against us, but we must ensure that every person has a right to live and have his freedoms protected. It is our job to ensure that the Nazi ideology never succeeds. We must ask ourselves: what values are we raising our children with? What are we doing to fight our enemies?
b. There is a limit to how much we can be patient and kind, there is a limit to the values of understanding we must preach. Because we cannot let our desire to teach understanding and patience overrule our necessity to defend our state.
c. We can never be silent when faced with evil, and that is why PM Netanyahu called on the UN and all other states to recognize the Iranian threat and stand against it.
He ended with saying that we did not get here by accident. We are here because it is our land and we must protect it.
The next day, on the cover of many newspapers, were these words: להילחם ברע וחנך לטוב - to fight against evil and educate for the good. And I had the privilege to hear these words straight from the Prime Minister himself. That is the beauty of this study abroad program - instead of reading books and newspapers, we partake in history ourselves.
The President of Israel, Shimon Peres, also delivered a speech (in quite difficult Hebrew, that actually required us to put in our translator headphones). He said that the victims of the Holocaust later became the state builders of Israel and for that, and so much more, we will always remember their legacy. There are two imperatives, he said, we must always remember: we must maintain our Jewish state, and build up our defense strongly, and we must take seriously threats of annihilation, like those coming from Iran. We can never allow a regime to stand forth and declare that their race or religion is superior - it is our responsibility to ensure no regime can ever do so again. He then turned to a Holocaust survivor sitting next to him and said, "Jewish history salutes you." He concluded with a powerful statement: No other nation has been beaten like the Jews, and no other nation has rebounded like the Jews."
Prime Minister Netanyahu also delivered a moving speech, which we were mostly able to understand in Hebrew. We are all sitting there today because, before their deaths, the Holocaust victims and heroes begged us never to forget them, to tell their stories. It was ironic, that after a week of beautiful weather, that night it was freezing cold. The wind was so strong and since many of us did not know we would need jackets, we sat shivering in our seats. Perhaps we were supposed to understand a tiny taste of what it is like to sit in cold, windy weather without any means of comfort (of course, ours was on a minuscule level, but I believe that any way we can learn to connect our lives with the Holocaust survivors is important, because by making these connections, we ensure we do not forget them). PM Netanyahu asked us: from ashes and dust, Israel came about. Did we learn anything from their sacrifices? We learned, and we must continue to learn, three important lessons:
a. To protect the good and fight against the bad. In every generation, there are those who stand against us, but we must ensure that every person has a right to live and have his freedoms protected. It is our job to ensure that the Nazi ideology never succeeds. We must ask ourselves: what values are we raising our children with? What are we doing to fight our enemies?
b. There is a limit to how much we can be patient and kind, there is a limit to the values of understanding we must preach. Because we cannot let our desire to teach understanding and patience overrule our necessity to defend our state.
c. We can never be silent when faced with evil, and that is why PM Netanyahu called on the UN and all other states to recognize the Iranian threat and stand against it.
He ended with saying that we did not get here by accident. We are here because it is our land and we must protect it.
The next day, on the cover of many newspapers, were these words: להילחם ברע וחנך לטוב - to fight against evil and educate for the good. And I had the privilege to hear these words straight from the Prime Minister himself. That is the beauty of this study abroad program - instead of reading books and newspapers, we partake in history ourselves.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Days of Rage, Days of Calm
At the beginning of this week, the Hurva (literally 'ruin') synagogue in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City was rebuilt. This synagogue has a long history of being destroyed and rebuilt, and this particular re-dedication was seen as a symbol of Jewish strength and the Jewish presence in Jerusalem.
And, of course, with the feeling of a Jewish strength comes the feeling of an opposing presence in Jerusalem - the belief that the Jewish presence is not the correct one. For this dedication, 3000 police were deployed across Jerusalem, correctly anticipating it would cause a big reaction. And it did. Hamas declared a "day of rage" and riots and protests occurred across the city. About 80 people were arrested, some were shot, others injured... but I think it sounds worse than it was.
Our dorms are located right on the border of East Jerusalem and we live surrounded by Arab villages. Yet I don't feel scared. I feel like this is part of my life, living amongst Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians. From our classrooms, we saw riot police guarding our school. From our cafeteria, we heard the sounds of firecrackers and gun shots (often shot in the air to scare people, not to actually murder). A Jewish policeman who was shot was taken to the hospital right next to us, Hadassah hospital. Yet our lives continued as normal, as this day of rage passed. The only difference was that I didn't go into the Old City that day, as our school warned us that it actually was dangerous, and I've stopped walking alone at night.
I think I understand how people live in this country and don't feel scared all the time. Yes, you're probably surrounded by more enemies than your average day in Canada, but this is the life you choose for yourself. You choose to fight and to learn which fight is the right fight. We chose to come here. I didn't choose to pick a side, I chose to come and learn. Learn how to see both sides, learn how to appreciate the delicate situation we are in. So I don't feel rage. I feel proud this synagogue was rebuilt because it is a signal of the preservation of Jewish life in Israel for centuries. And I understand why others are upset - because they want to have a signal of the preservation of Arab life in Israel for centuries. I just don't think I need to protest and riot to show that.
So the day of rage has passed, and we're left under this 'calm.' The question remains: will this calm ever last? or are we merely waiting for the next day of rage to occur?
And, of course, with the feeling of a Jewish strength comes the feeling of an opposing presence in Jerusalem - the belief that the Jewish presence is not the correct one. For this dedication, 3000 police were deployed across Jerusalem, correctly anticipating it would cause a big reaction. And it did. Hamas declared a "day of rage" and riots and protests occurred across the city. About 80 people were arrested, some were shot, others injured... but I think it sounds worse than it was.
Our dorms are located right on the border of East Jerusalem and we live surrounded by Arab villages. Yet I don't feel scared. I feel like this is part of my life, living amongst Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians. From our classrooms, we saw riot police guarding our school. From our cafeteria, we heard the sounds of firecrackers and gun shots (often shot in the air to scare people, not to actually murder). A Jewish policeman who was shot was taken to the hospital right next to us, Hadassah hospital. Yet our lives continued as normal, as this day of rage passed. The only difference was that I didn't go into the Old City that day, as our school warned us that it actually was dangerous, and I've stopped walking alone at night.
I think I understand how people live in this country and don't feel scared all the time. Yes, you're probably surrounded by more enemies than your average day in Canada, but this is the life you choose for yourself. You choose to fight and to learn which fight is the right fight. We chose to come here. I didn't choose to pick a side, I chose to come and learn. Learn how to see both sides, learn how to appreciate the delicate situation we are in. So I don't feel rage. I feel proud this synagogue was rebuilt because it is a signal of the preservation of Jewish life in Israel for centuries. And I understand why others are upset - because they want to have a signal of the preservation of Arab life in Israel for centuries. I just don't think I need to protest and riot to show that.
So the day of rage has passed, and we're left under this 'calm.' The question remains: will this calm ever last? or are we merely waiting for the next day of rage to occur?
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Diverse cultures
During my month of ulpan, we have been lucky to get to know people from very diverse cultures. The students in my class come from all over the world: Canada, the States, Germany, Russia, China and Japan to name a few. All these students have come together to learn Hebrew and live in Israel. I asked my Russian friend why he started studying Hebrew and he said "I didn't choose Hebrew, Hebrew chose me." My American friend and I looked at each other and thought, "Really, Hebrew can choose someone in Russia??" I guess the point is that this language is unique to everyone - it's something the most diverse people can find a connection with and that is something special.
I have continuously noticed that whether my teachers are religious or secular, Jewish or not, the Jewish religion is frequently referred to in class in various contexts. When we study vocabulary, my very secular teacher will often quote a phrase from the Bible to explain the meaning of the word. I don't think this is something you can find anywhere else. In Israel, you cannot ignore religion, you cannot really disappear from it. Yes, you can choose not to follow anything but even so, you will still have a deep knowledge and education of the Bible and religious concepts.
A few weeks ago, we had a guest lecturer for ulpan. She was a young woman who had immigrated (and by immigrated, I mean walked) to Israel when she was a baby. She told us the story of her very long journey. The Jews of Ethiopia believed in the Bible and the Jewish traditions, which they follow to this day. She told us they dream of returning to Israel every single day. However, since they were separated from mainstream Judaism a long time ago, they were not aware of many 'updates' or new rabbinical decrees on Jewish tradition. The Jews of Ethiopia also believed Jerusalem was really entirely built from gold, since it says that Jerusalem is a city of gold. They didn't even know that other cities existed in Israel - they thought the entire country was just made up of the golden city of Jerusalem.
It was shocking to hear that, to this day, the Ethiopians believe that the Jewish temple still exists in Jerusalem. She had believed that her whole life until she came to Israel and was heartbroken to learn that it was destroyed.
The Ethiopians also had a more literal translation of the Bible than mainstream Judaism, which uses the understandings of the oral law to expound on the laws. When they arrived in Israel, they found it difficult to keep shabbat the way mainstream Jews here do it. For example, her family still eats cold food on shabbat because they were not used to heating up food on shabbat.
Their trip was not easy in the slightest. They always dreamed of Jerusalem but it was too dangerous to embark on the journey. Different Jewish Ethiopian communities would just wake up and decide that day to start walking. They just walked towards the direction they believed Jerusalem was in, with the clothes on their back and the little amount of food they could bring. On this woman's journey, a large community trekked together to Jerusalem. However, due to the heat of the desert and the fact that they couldn't carry enough food and water, over 1400 people died on the journey. Her mother got extremely sick and was left in the desert because they believed she was dead. She was later found alive by kind soldiers who nursed her back to health and later reunited her with her daughter.
Traveling in the desert was not easy. They had to travel through Sudan, while being wary of Sudanese soldiers who would put them in jail if they were found, since it was illegal for them to leave Ethiopia through Sudan. After these hundreds of men, women and children suffered through the desert, the heat, the fear of capture, starvation and exhaustion, they finally made it to Israel.
Arriving in Israel was in no way the end of their hard journey. When they arrived in Israel, they were shocked to learn that Jerusalem was not made of gold. They didn't know modern cities like Tel Aviv existed. The holy, spiritual land they pictured was nothing like they imagined it. They were surprised to learn that not every Jew was observant here. It was a big shock and a huge adjustment, as if 2000 years disappeared from their lives, forcing them to recreate their vision of modern Jerusalem. And even after their entire journey, they were told that since it was not certain that they were Jewish, they would have to undergo the Jewish conversion process. This is a physically, emotionally and spiritually difficult process to go through and it upset them to go through it. The hardest thing for them, according to our speaker, was feeling like they were not accepted in Israel. They felt like they didn't belong to any one place, or any one sect.
Today, the Ethiopian Jews are more integrated into society but there are still lots of tensions among the 'native' Israelis and the Ethiopians. Like any new immigrant, they often occupy the lower class jobs. They have to re-adjust to life in a foreign country, a new language, a different culture and hope to be accepted for who they are.
It's difficult to say if I would ever embark on a journey like that - I can't imagine picking up my life and making my way through a desert to a land I only dreamed about. But I guess every Jew has to find their way back to Israel sometime and every Jew has to hope that the difficult journey will be worth it.
I have continuously noticed that whether my teachers are religious or secular, Jewish or not, the Jewish religion is frequently referred to in class in various contexts. When we study vocabulary, my very secular teacher will often quote a phrase from the Bible to explain the meaning of the word. I don't think this is something you can find anywhere else. In Israel, you cannot ignore religion, you cannot really disappear from it. Yes, you can choose not to follow anything but even so, you will still have a deep knowledge and education of the Bible and religious concepts.
A few weeks ago, we had a guest lecturer for ulpan. She was a young woman who had immigrated (and by immigrated, I mean walked) to Israel when she was a baby. She told us the story of her very long journey. The Jews of Ethiopia believed in the Bible and the Jewish traditions, which they follow to this day. She told us they dream of returning to Israel every single day. However, since they were separated from mainstream Judaism a long time ago, they were not aware of many 'updates' or new rabbinical decrees on Jewish tradition. The Jews of Ethiopia also believed Jerusalem was really entirely built from gold, since it says that Jerusalem is a city of gold. They didn't even know that other cities existed in Israel - they thought the entire country was just made up of the golden city of Jerusalem.
It was shocking to hear that, to this day, the Ethiopians believe that the Jewish temple still exists in Jerusalem. She had believed that her whole life until she came to Israel and was heartbroken to learn that it was destroyed.
The Ethiopians also had a more literal translation of the Bible than mainstream Judaism, which uses the understandings of the oral law to expound on the laws. When they arrived in Israel, they found it difficult to keep shabbat the way mainstream Jews here do it. For example, her family still eats cold food on shabbat because they were not used to heating up food on shabbat.
Their trip was not easy in the slightest. They always dreamed of Jerusalem but it was too dangerous to embark on the journey. Different Jewish Ethiopian communities would just wake up and decide that day to start walking. They just walked towards the direction they believed Jerusalem was in, with the clothes on their back and the little amount of food they could bring. On this woman's journey, a large community trekked together to Jerusalem. However, due to the heat of the desert and the fact that they couldn't carry enough food and water, over 1400 people died on the journey. Her mother got extremely sick and was left in the desert because they believed she was dead. She was later found alive by kind soldiers who nursed her back to health and later reunited her with her daughter.
Traveling in the desert was not easy. They had to travel through Sudan, while being wary of Sudanese soldiers who would put them in jail if they were found, since it was illegal for them to leave Ethiopia through Sudan. After these hundreds of men, women and children suffered through the desert, the heat, the fear of capture, starvation and exhaustion, they finally made it to Israel.
Arriving in Israel was in no way the end of their hard journey. When they arrived in Israel, they were shocked to learn that Jerusalem was not made of gold. They didn't know modern cities like Tel Aviv existed. The holy, spiritual land they pictured was nothing like they imagined it. They were surprised to learn that not every Jew was observant here. It was a big shock and a huge adjustment, as if 2000 years disappeared from their lives, forcing them to recreate their vision of modern Jerusalem. And even after their entire journey, they were told that since it was not certain that they were Jewish, they would have to undergo the Jewish conversion process. This is a physically, emotionally and spiritually difficult process to go through and it upset them to go through it. The hardest thing for them, according to our speaker, was feeling like they were not accepted in Israel. They felt like they didn't belong to any one place, or any one sect.
Today, the Ethiopian Jews are more integrated into society but there are still lots of tensions among the 'native' Israelis and the Ethiopians. Like any new immigrant, they often occupy the lower class jobs. They have to re-adjust to life in a foreign country, a new language, a different culture and hope to be accepted for who they are.
It's difficult to say if I would ever embark on a journey like that - I can't imagine picking up my life and making my way through a desert to a land I only dreamed about. But I guess every Jew has to find their way back to Israel sometime and every Jew has to hope that the difficult journey will be worth it.
Monday, February 8, 2010
A hint of good things
Today, I saw one of the nicest things I've seen in a long time. I was doing some quick grocery shopping on my way home from school and I stopped off at the local store, Mr. Zol (Mr. Cheap), which should really be called Mr. Yakar (Mr. Expensive). The store was packed for a change, so I picked up the few things I needed quickly. After debating which busy line I should wait in, I picked cashier #3. I was impatiently waiting in line, while the elder lady in front of me paid for her items. Finally, it was my turn. Once she ringed up my purchases, I paid and started putting them in plastic bags. I noticed there were two boxes of pasta lying there and I wondered if the lady in front of me had forgotten to take them. I glanced back and saw the cashier was already in the middle of ringing up the next customer's things so I didn't want to bother her. I debated for a minute and then I told her (in Hebrew of course) that the woman left her pasta on the counter. She quickly stopped what she was doing, even though the line was so long, picked up the box and walked out the store yelling for the woman to pick up her pasta box. She walked to the end of the block to give it back to the woman, and then walked back into the store and continued helping that customer she had left behind. I looked at her and smiled and thought to myself that that small action means so much to people who have difficulty believing in the good of mankind.
Maybe I'm over-analyzing this, but maybe, just maybe, there are people who stop what they are doing and walk a block away to return a two dollar item to their owner. That woman will never know how her action affected me.
Maybe I'm over-analyzing this, but maybe, just maybe, there are people who stop what they are doing and walk a block away to return a two dollar item to their owner. That woman will never know how her action affected me.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Life of an Israeli Student
Things have been so hectic here that it's been hard to find time to just sit back and relax. I know once this week passes, we will have more time to enjoy our 'free time' and start touring Israel.
Our ulpan classes started on Sunday and we now have school from 8:30-1:15 every day. It doesn't sound like a lot but it is definitely a big adjustment. At McGill, the longest course I've ever had was only 2 hours long so getting used to 4 hour ulpan classes has been difficult. I am also not used to waking up so early - we have to leave our apartment by 8 am (it's about a twenty minute walk) if we want to get to class on time. The ulpan classes are also more like high school classes than university ones - we have daily homework, weekly tests, we do work in class and the teacher actually checks the answers.
Besides from ulpan, I wish I could say I've been spending my afternoons doing very exciting things. But so far, we've been running around Jerusalem picking up things we need for our apartment, buying groceries, and learning about the area. So it's been a lot of shlepping things up the hill to our dorms. Lucky for us, nice boys have kindly offered to help us carry our groceries or we would never have been able to make it back.
I've been trying to appreciate how lucky I am to study in Jerusalem. As I write this, I am staring out my classroom window, overlooking a view of Jerusalem (and the Arab village right next to us) - a much better view than the couchetard on Stanley. Our campus also has a beautiful botanical garden that we walked through yesterday (not exactly on purpose - we were looking for a cafeteria and ended up getting lost). It's amazing to think that everything I can see and touch are thousands of years old.
I'm also starting to get used to showing my ID, having my bags checked and walking through a metal detector as I enter school. It makes McGill's two security guards seem amateurish.
I'm hoping as we finish running errands we can start to really tour the vast campus and start visiting interesting sites in Israel. For now, I'm off to my Latin Aerobics class.
Our ulpan classes started on Sunday and we now have school from 8:30-1:15 every day. It doesn't sound like a lot but it is definitely a big adjustment. At McGill, the longest course I've ever had was only 2 hours long so getting used to 4 hour ulpan classes has been difficult. I am also not used to waking up so early - we have to leave our apartment by 8 am (it's about a twenty minute walk) if we want to get to class on time. The ulpan classes are also more like high school classes than university ones - we have daily homework, weekly tests, we do work in class and the teacher actually checks the answers.
Besides from ulpan, I wish I could say I've been spending my afternoons doing very exciting things. But so far, we've been running around Jerusalem picking up things we need for our apartment, buying groceries, and learning about the area. So it's been a lot of shlepping things up the hill to our dorms. Lucky for us, nice boys have kindly offered to help us carry our groceries or we would never have been able to make it back.
I've been trying to appreciate how lucky I am to study in Jerusalem. As I write this, I am staring out my classroom window, overlooking a view of Jerusalem (and the Arab village right next to us) - a much better view than the couchetard on Stanley. Our campus also has a beautiful botanical garden that we walked through yesterday (not exactly on purpose - we were looking for a cafeteria and ended up getting lost). It's amazing to think that everything I can see and touch are thousands of years old.
I'm also starting to get used to showing my ID, having my bags checked and walking through a metal detector as I enter school. It makes McGill's two security guards seem amateurish.
I'm hoping as we finish running errands we can start to really tour the vast campus and start visiting interesting sites in Israel. For now, I'm off to my Latin Aerobics class.
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