My Guys

In Jerusalem, everyone has a *guy:

"You want to buy fish? Oh you HAVE to go see my guy in the shuk."
"My cheese guy is the BEST. He let's you try whatever you want."
"Time for a haircut? You have to go to my guy on Emek!"

The fun, and perhaps frustration, of living in a new city is trying to find your "guys."

I've been living here for close to four months, and I've just started to feel settled. I'm beginning to find the products and stores that I like. But...this came with a lot of trial and error. I bought quite a few things I didn't need. I've purchased zucchinis in place of cucumbers, or "lite" bread instead of the real bread. I've mistaken butter for cheese, and lord only knows what kind of shampoo I'm using.

It took me a while to figure out how to order my coffee, or how to ask, "does this have meat in it?" One time, I spent $20 for a pineapple. My roommates have witnessed my raging, on several occasions, about the price of food in Israel.

One might ask, "Lauren, aren't most things in English? Don't most people speak English? Surely, it can't be that hard."

To which I'd respond, "First of all, you're a jerk. Who asks that? Secondly, you're right, but sometimes it's more fun to try and do things on your own, and make mistakes."

But now, I'm finally starting to find my place and my routine. I have my "guys."

I have my fruit and vegetable place, where I go every Friday morning, and they greet me with a hearty "boker tov!" (good morning!). 

I have my bread place, where they give me free samples of cheese. I find great satisfaction that I know how to ask them in Hebrew to slice my bread. Small victories, ya know?

I got my tofu guy, who wishes me a "Shabbat shalom!" every week, my shakshuka guy who always gives me an extra egg, and my falafel guy, who isn't very nice, but does a great job proportioning the ingredients in the pita (very important).

Living in a new place can be challenging. These people might not know it, but they are my guys, and they've made Jerusalem feel a bit more like home.

-----
*I'm using "guy" to mean both males and females. Easy, hippies.

Places to Play in & Pray In

"Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, 

places to play in and pray in, 

where nature may heal and 

give strength to body and soul."

-John Muir

Last Tuesday through Thursday, my school went on a tiyul (trip) to the Negev desert. The pictures (and corny captions) can tell the story.

(The detail is better if you click on the pictures)

Little girl, big world

Hiking on the first day in Ein Gedi

 Lauren & Kyle in Ein Gedi

Photo credit: Mira Shore
Hiking on the 2nd day in the Negev

Hiking in the Negev

Roomies!

Photo credit: Mira Shore
Laura, Kyle, and Me, relaxing after a day of hiking

About to hike to the top of this...

 Hiking up, up, up!

 Me, Deborah, and Kyle

Taking a short break

 Dancing on top of the world

 View from the bottom

Photo credit: Mira Shore
Avi, Daniel, Me, and Jordan

Photo credit: Andrew Lustig
Wandering Jews?

 Grateful am I :)

Inspired.

"Sleep less, do more...and have the courage to fail."

-Rabbi Levi Lauer

Every Tuesday at Pardes, we have a school-wide learning session, where a faculty member or guest lecturer speaks about a "critical issue" facing the community.

This week, we heard from Rabbi Levi Lauer, a past dean of Pardes and the current executive director and founder of Atzum, a social action organization in Israel.

The organization was founded in 2002 "to remedy injustices in Israeli society, and encourage individuals to become social activists and agents of change." The main issues that the organization currently focuses on are:

• Confronting and eradicating human trafficking in Israel.
• Providing support for terror attack victims, and their families. 
• Improving the lives of "righteous gentiles" (non-Jews who risked their lives during the Holocaust) living in Israel.
• Empowering the youth of the Ethiopian community in Israel.

Relating his discussion to our studies at Pardes, Rabbi Lauer emphasized the importance of studying text and grappling with the important questions that it demands of us. What does social justice really mean? What does it mean to be a good person? Why is there so much suffering in the world? What can (and what should) we do about it?

On the other hand, he suggested that maybe we are preoccupied with words, and it moves us away from the "pain of the streets." In other words, we shouldn't just study, we should go out and do. We shouldn't just learn what it means to be a good person, we should take action and put our values into practice.

The "pain of the streets." This phrase in particular really spoke to me.

I am often overwhelmed by the suffering and injustices of the world, yet I somehow find myself drawn to them. When I watch the news, I feel empathetic to the point of taking others' pain on as my own pain, to the point that the story stays on my mind much longer than it should. My mom sometimes makes fun of me for reading socially-just books "just for fun" (you mean to tell me that "When Bad Things Happen to Good People" isn't a beach read?).

In all seriousness, I find myself paralyzed with what my role is, so much so that I often end up doing nothing. I used to think that this slightly-neurotic mindset was a curse, but Rabbi Lauer's lecture today made me feel that it's actually the opposite: "we were not created to be ambivalent, we were created to make a difference."

Rabbi Lauer ended with a brief story, highlighting the importance of helping ONE individual:

Yitzhak is boy whose father was killed in a suicide bombing attack on an Israeli bus. Yitzhak was on the bus as well. He survived, but not un-scarred. Since the attack, Yitzhak has not been able to set foot on a bus. Because of all the medical bills, his family doesn't have very much money, and can't afford a car. Since his family lives below the poverty line, the government provides a little assistance (including bus tickets), but this still isn't able to get Yitzhak to school.

At this point in the story, Rabbi Lauer paused, almost at a loss of what to say next. I could see in his eyes, and hear in his voice, the passion and the pain that comes with doing social justice work. 

"We were created in order to get Yitzhak to school. That's why this state was created. We have to get him to school."

We were created to care, to act, and to alleviate the pain of others. Thank you, Rabbi Lauer, for the much-needed reminder.


*The quotes on this page were as I wrote them down, but they might have slight inaccuracies.

Amen.

This is the Penn State that I know and love...

May No Act of Ours Bring Shame

Photo credit: Becky Salman

Today, I woke up, and for the first time, I was not so proud to be a Penn Stater. 

This is a very disheartening thing to admit, as our Penn State pride and loyalty runs very, very deep. We have the largest and most active alumni association in the world. Our school traditions are ingrained in us as soon as we arrive on campus. I was a tour guide for the university for 3 years where I shared my passion and devotion for Penn State to future students. It's more than a school. It's an identity.

But as I watched the story unfold from across the world, my heart sank further and further, in disappointment, anger, and disbelief.

First, a child molestation case, involving young boys whose innocence were taken by a man that was seen as a community hero. Then, the involvement and cover-up by two well-respected university officials. Furthermore, the involvement of Joe Paterno, our iconic and beloved football coach, and President Graham Spanier, which resulted in their termination by the Board of Trustees.

But that's not where my disappointment and disgust ends.

Thousands of Penn State students decided that it would be in their best interest to trash the town in a disgraceful and embarrassing riot. They flipped over news vans. They broke store windows. They threw rocks at police officers. All for what?

In the aftermath of all this tragedy, I look at my Facebook news-feed, and I see current students and alumni posting all kinds of messages of support. From posting "Penn State Forever," to love letters to Joe Paterno, to calls for signing petitions and organizing rallies. I think this is important, and I commend them.

But today, I just don't feel it. 

The Nittany Nation is hurt, confused, and devastated... and the reality is that no one really knows what to do. These instances bring into question our own idea of morality: Did our beloved Joe Paterno do enough? What would I have done if I were him? Did the Board of Trustees make the "right" decision? How did the media distort this case? Why am I even upset about my school, when this whole thing should be about the victims?

I don't have all the answers. But what I do know is it's okay to grapple with these questions, and it's ok to feel the way that you do. If you feel angry, feel angry. If you feel sad, feel sad. And if you feel not-so-proud of Penn State right now, feel that way, and know that it's ok.

It will take some time, but Penn State will be whole again. Deep down, I know that Penn State is an extraordinary institution and the actions of a few does not reflect the goodness of the whole. Deep down, I know that I have great pride in my alma mater and my Penn State family.

But today, I'm sad. And that's ok.

The Adventures of Na'omi9: Kashering our Kitchen

My roommates and I decided a few weeks ago that we wanted to make our kitchen kosher. The word kosher literally means "fit," and it refers to the Jewish dietary laws. 

There are different reasons why one might choose to "keep kosher." Here are a few examples:

"Because God commanded me to do so."
"Because it adds intention and mindfulness to my eating."
"Because I'm Jewish and that's what Jews have done for thousands of years."
"Because it adds holiness to my daily routine."
"Because I live in Jerusalem and none of my friends want to eat at my house because they think I'm a heathen." (Ok, exaggeration. But some people do choose to keep kosher because of their community). 

These are all legitimate reasons to take on a kosher lifestyle. If you ask me why I want to keep kosher, I believe it would be a mix of all of the above. I've never really tried it before, so I it will be quite an adventure.

Anyway, I thought I'd share the process that my roommates and I went through to kasher our kitchen. Enjoy.

Preparation:

1) Sit down with Zvi, our halaka (Jewish law) teacher (and resident Pardes comedian), to talk about what we need to do/buy/etc. Confusion ensues.
2) Organize kitchen, separating things that we can save and things that we can't. Find rotting vegetables and stale pretzels in the cabinets. Eat the pretzels. With hummus.
3) Go to grocery store to buy new pans, dishes, etc. Get flustered after seeing the price of Israeli home goods.
4) Buy the expensive home-goods, but continue to complain about the price of them.
5) Label everything "dairy," "meat," or "pareve" (neither dairy nor meat).

Kashering

1) Start with major appliances. Thoroughly clean out oven, microwave, stove-top, counters, etc. Nearly pass out from the fumes of the cleaning product.
2) Turn on oven and stove top at full blast, and boil a cup of water in the microwave.
3) Pour boiling water over all the countertops (and inadvertently, the kitchen floor).
4) Call Zvi with 15 more questions that just came up.
5) Completely immerse ceramic dishes in boiling water 3 times each. Burn hands.
6) Drop hot rock in boiling water so that it spills over onto the sides of the pot.
7) Call Zvi again (with only 5 questions this time).

Toveling

If a dish or cooking utensil is new, it is customary to tovel it, or immerse it in living water to symbolically sanctify it.

1) Gather items to be toveled.
2) Trek to the mikveh (ritual bath) that's down the street from us.
3) Get the stare-down from some Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) children. Laugh at how silly, and uniquely Jerusalem, this situation is.
4) Dip dishes in the water and say the blessing for toveling dishes.
5) Realize we should have said the blessing first. Do it again.
6) Return home. Wash dishes. Put everything on labeled shelves. Call grandmother and make her proud.

You might be thinking that this all sounds a little weird. Well, for all of you skeptics out there, I took this "before" and "after" picture of our dishes, to illustrate what a difference kashering makes:

Before

After

Ok, enough of my bad jokes.

In all seriousness, I really enjoyed this process, and tried to do it with intention and honor. I think there is something really appealing about adding holiness to the seemingly ordinary things that we do in our every day lives. I do feel differently when I'm preparing my food, even it's just the reminder to have gratitude for what I'm about to eat and where it comes from. I'm also excited to be able to cook for friends, regardless of the level of kosher that they keep.

While the actual ritual of kashering a kitchen may sound a bit funny or strange, I do believe that there is a lot of value behind it, and I look forward to exploring this as time goes on.

And if you have any questions about kashering your OWN kitchen.... call Zvi.

Laura labels everything.

 The over-priced haul from the home-goods store.

 Dropping a rock into boiling water. Just another Friday morning.

 Laura and Todd kashering the dishes.

Getting the stare-down from Haredi children at the mikveh. 

 Todd doing a full-body dip into the mikveh.

Laura takes a turn.

It's Not You... It's Me

Now that the biggest chunk of Jewish holidays is over, we are finally settling into a rhythm at school.

Personally, I feel like I'm getting into the swing of things, and starting to really understand the many benefits of studying Jewish texts. One of the most unique components of Jewish learning that I've come to love is the tradition of studying in pairs, or havruta learning.

While the word havruta comes from the same root as the Hebrew word for "friend," a havruta is a very unique relationship. Generally, a havruta is someone who is at a similar Hebrew level as you, with whom you can translate and uncover different meanings of the text. An ideal havruta is someone who challenges you and makes you think in new ways, and who shares their ideas and insight.

We spend half of our study time in the classroom, hearing a lecture, and the other half studying with our havruta. So, it's very important to find a good match, as you will spend a lot of hours together. These past few weeks have been a scramble to find the perfect havruta. 

I've found that finding your havruta is a bit like dating.

The first day, in one of my classes, our teacher asked us to go around the room and say (1) what we are looking for in a havruta, and (2) what we feel like we can bring to a havruta.

The responses ranged from "I'm a good listener," to "I want someone who brings out the best in me." It sounded like a bad eHarmony commercial (I made this joke in class, which got a few chuckles, and maybe a few check-marks in the "possible-havruta?" column).

We were encouraged to "shop around," and work with a lot of different people, in order to find the best match. Students often went to their teachers (match-makers?) for advice. One can imagine the awkward social interactions that go on when the havruta isn't working out for one person.

"This just really isn't working out for me anymore..."
"I think you're great. I really do. I just...want to see what else is out there..."
"It's not you...it's me..."
"Kissing you feels like kissing my sister..."

Ok, just kidding on the last one.

And sometimes your havruta-finding skills attract the attention of others. Someone might ask you, "oh, who is your havruta in that class?" "Rebecca Farbowitzsteinberg." "Ooo, NICE."

In all seriousness, I find that I'm really loving havruta learning. I didn't think that I would at first, and even tried to find crafty ways to work on my own (that only lasted about 10 minutes, when teachers found me in the corner by myself). This type of learning challenges me, and forces me to think in a new way.

I have a different havruta for each class, and I find that I enjoy working with each person for a different reason. Some are patient. Some keep me focused. Some inspire me to think differently. Some I like to argue with. These are all good things, and I'm grateful to have found partners who bring out the best in my learning.

Now... if only my actual dating life was this successful (ba-bum-ching!).

FAQs #3

When I talk to friends and family from home, these are their most frequently asked questions.

Check out pre-Israel FAQs here and here.

______________________________________

What's it like to live in Jerusalem?
Jerusalem is a fascinating, vibrant, and complicated city. There is always something interesting to do, whether it is going to a concert in the shuk (market), attending an art festival, going on a beautiful hike, or wandering through a museum. I am certainly never bored. On a basic level, I love how easy it is to live a Jewish life here. For example, everyone has off from work on the high holidays (whereas in the States, it's a challenge). Living in Jerusalem is a feeling that is hard to describe, but I do know that I am thankful every day to be having this experience.

On the other hand, there are also a lot of bad drivers, radically-religious people, and dirty cats. So... can't win 'em all, I guess.


You've been in Israel for over 2 months! Your Hebrew must be really good.
One would think so. But, unfortunately, I don't have too many chances to practice my modern Hebrew, since I'm with English-speakers all day. My biblical Hebrew, on the other hand, is improving quite a bit. Which, in the real world, doesn't really help me at all.


Do you like your roommates?
I am happy to say that I love my roommates (and not just because I know that they are avid readers of my blog...hey, guys!). My one roommate, Laura, is from Toronto and she goes to Pardes, also. My other roommate, Todd, is studying to become a rabbi at Hebrew Union College. Together, we like to cook delicious food, play heated games of banana-grams, and have deep, wine-induced conversations. They also put up with my shenanigans.


Here's our most recent picture together:

Har har. We say that we are like "Three's Company," even though none of us have ever actually watched the show.


Do you like your school?
My school is GREAT. I find it to be a comfortable and welcoming atmosphere, and it's a wonderful learning community. This particular kind of learning challenges me in a very healthy way. Every day, I leave feeling like I learned something new and fascinating, even if at times, I feel like I want to bang my head against the wall.


Did you make a lot of friends?
Yes, Mom, I made friends.

And what do you do outside of school?
Between classes and the extra-curricular activities that are offered, I don't have too much free time outside of school. Usually my free time is spent with new and old friends; going out to eat, cooking big dinners, or exploring Israel together. I just started taking a "scribal arts" class, where I am learning to write Hebrew letters, in the hopes of making artwork with it (you know, because I needed another art-hobby). I also started running again this week. Now that the huge chunk of holidays are over, I anticipate getting into a more regular rhythm.


What do you miss about home?
The biggest thing I miss is, of course, being geographically close to my family and friends. Also, I miss fall leaves, Penn State football games, cheap home goods, and good Mexican food.


Stay tuned for more FAQs!

RAIN!

Today, it rained in Jerusalem for the first time this season!

Why is this so notable? The middle east faces a chronic water problem. Every bit of water is crucial to the well-being of this arid region, and when there isn't rain, people suffer in a dangerous way.

At the end of Sukkot (which was last week), Jews say a special prayer, in hopes of having a season of plentiful, beneficial rain. Other faiths also have prayers for rain (check out this article from last year). In this area of the world, rain is considered a blessing.

When it started raining, everyone in my class got up to look out the window and watch. Down the hall, people were excitedly saying to each other, "did you see the rain?!" It was exciting to find such significance in something that I once took for granted.

This year, may the Middle East be blessed with RAIN.

Looking out the windows.

Hannah checking out the rain.

"Truly it may be said that the outside of a mountain is good for the inside of a (wo)man"

The thing that I love about sukkot in Israel is that it feeds my hippie tendency to want to be outside. I went on a three-day camping trip to the north of Israel with my roommate and his friends from school. It was a perfect opportunity to relax and unwind, explore a different part of Israel, and be inspired by the beautiful, great outdoors.

On day one, we went on a water hike. It was really fun and I only fell in the water, oh, 15 times? Unfortunately, there are no pictures from this comical adventure, but here is everyone afterward setting up camp in a forest.

Building the fire.

Todd, Jay, Aaron, Sam, and Jay Shir. 

Jay Shir was our fearless guide for the trip.

 Sam, me, and Lindsey 

After cooking a delicious dinner, we sat around the fire relaxing for a while. It was a little colder than we expected, and when it was time to fall asleep, a Druze wedding nearby started blasting Arab music. So, yea, I'd say sleeping conditions were pretty optimal.

Day Two: A small lake at the bottom of the mountain.

New friends hiking up Mt. Bental

 Well, I look awkward. But a pretty good view!

At the top of Mt. Bental

Roomies at the top of Mt. Bental

The group at the top of Mt. Bental!

Jay, Lindsey, Ziggy, Aaron, Sam, Jay Shir, Me, & Todd

Lunch break in the afternoon. We did a lot of eating.

:)

Hiking to our campsite for the night.

Hiking at sunset... so pretty.

Sunset on day two. 

Day 3: Playing cards before starting our 15k hike on the Golan Trail.

The view... beautiful!

Taking a little break.

Making sure we're not lost.

Ziggy, Lindsey, & Aaron

Cooling off.

More hiking...

...more hiking...

Dear Israel... you're gorgeous!

Sunset over the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). A great end to a great trip. 

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. 

Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. 

The winds will blow their own freshness into you, 

and the storms their energy,

while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."

-John Muir