"You're breaking hearts,
And you're breaking guitars,
Today's your birthday,
And you don't even know how old you are."
-Happy Birthday Ralph, AAHP
Last Friday was my birthday, and indeed, I couldn't forget that it was my 26th, since my campers at Darom in 2006 nicknamed me "S-B-B is O-L-D". I had a great time baking, cooking and preparing my apartment to have a big Shabbat dinner and a bigger oneg Shabbat. When Sarah arrived, as my lovely Davidson bed buddy for the weekend, we wandered on Emek to the ATM and through the shuk at Beit Sefer Adam where I managed NOT to buy anything! (Except for lunch).
Before dinner, we attended tefillot at Shira Chadasha, housed at the Shalom Hartmann Institute while they're doing renovations on their Emek Refaim building, I had a chance to say hi and get tons of "happy birthdays" from everybody I know. Then, we collected the group of diners, and walked back to my apartment.
Sadly, the laws of Shabbat prevented me from taking pictures at the event, but here's a little summary of the fun! Over the course of the evening, there were people talking in German, French, English and Hebrew, and I had a conversation with Spanish, French and Italian words as Guillame (from ulpan) and I tried to figure out the correct way to pronounce "Sangria." (My joking answer: "Fruit salad".)
All of my worrying about not having enough [insert food or drink item here] to serve my guests, I was amazed at the amount of food when we set it on the table. Everybody brought more, mainly to drink, but also to eat. Dinner was terrific, and at about 10PM, people started showing up for the oneg. Friends from ulpan talked with visiting Davidson students, while enjoying what I understand is some very fine scotch, while a visiting Davidson/Rabbinical student made a bid for my apartment. There were people from Texas, Japan, France, Israel, New Jersey, Canada, and New York, all in my little apartment in the German Colony.
I spent most of the 28th waiting for my nephew to be born, as I figured it'd be pretty neat to have a twin nephew. Alas, that was not to be. But yesterday was his birth day, and I do know how old he is -- less than a DAY OLD! Pictures will be coming soon, but I'd just like to announce that my 10-lb nephew (that's about 5 kilo, or more than 2times the amount of rugelach I bought in Thursday) was born last night in Washington, DC.
And if that doesn't say happy new year and happy birthday, then I don't know what does!
31 December 2007
27 December 2007
The Adventures of Gezer Girl and the Fabby Cabbie
I should be asleep, but seeing as how I'm spending my birthday doing things I love, I am up at 2AM and I just took a nice, hot shower. Another thing I love to do is write things about myself, as I am a self-proclaimed narcissist, so here I am, on the blob.
On Wednesday nights, I enjoy the Conservative Yeshiva's learning community at Hebrew U. The way it works is they bring Schechter students (Rafi and some of my other favorite future-rabbi friends) to teach Torah to unsuspecting Hebrew U students looking for a free bagel. I've been joking that I'm Rafi's volunteer project, because if I don't go, he won't have a chevruta (friend/study partner) to teach. Deep down, however, I love the one-on-one attention, the text study, and the eating and schmoozing with my peers and the Rabbi who runs the program.
This week, Raf taught me how to read Rashi script. For those of you who either (a) know Hebrew fluently or (b) know about my passion for Israeli carrots, and the carrot in general, or (c) think I'm funny, will appreciate this vignette. I was (apparently doing very well at) mumbling out the right words with the screwy script (as if Hebrew isn't HARD ENOUGH TO READ), and translating , word by word. "Shmuel. Samuel." and "Hoo. He." and so on and so forth. Then I read "גזרותיו / g'zeirotav" and looked up at Rafi. "His carrots?" I said.
My carrot. Oh, I'm so very classy. Taken back when I was 25. Photo courtesy of Elana D., I believe.
After Rafi stopped laughing, he explained that that word means "His decrees" where "His" = God. I protested, saying that if a word has the root (get it? root! double meaning strikes again!) of G-Z-R / גזר, then it should have to do with carrots.
Ami, Rafi's California classmate explained that Sephardic (Spanish) Jews eat carrots on Rosh HaShanah to reverse any evil decrees. I'm going to start doing that! Ami is awesome. I love these Rab students....
Today, my Hebrew tutor told me that the Z / ז is actually adapted from a very ancient language that was folded into Hebrew, almost seamlessly. Funny how my "fun" learning and my "sooooo unfun" academic Hebrew learning lined up this week.
After learning, the CY funds cabs to take us back to town, which is nicer than taking the hour-long bus. Rafi and I piled in with his neighbor, the inimitable Gideon. Our driver this week, by chance, was driving a Benz (not so unusual), and I happened to perk up my ears to hear the music he was playing on the stereo. Usually, the cabs in Jerusalem play Galgalatz or some other popular music station. This guy was listening to the world's most offensive music, on his own, burned CD, so naturally I was in heaven, and started singing along and dancing around the backseat as much as the seatbelt allowed. The driver noticed, and turned up the music really loudly.
Not the cab I was in, but a cab nevertheless. This one was in Tel Aviv on 25 Dec 2007.
That's how I ended up driving by the Old City, just by the Western Wall, with the wind blowing through my hair, as Rafi, Gideon and I all boogied in the cab to classics such as "Smack Dat" by Akon (featuring an Eminem rap that includes the terrificly rapped "puddy-cat-dawls.") and "Fantasy" by Ludacris ([insert an inappropriate "lick" quote here]). It was ridiculous. But it certainly exposed one of the many polarities of Israel, which is currently my proposed thesis topic. I don't think I'd use those lyrics with campers. Or adults. Or anybody that may think it disgusting that I (a) know these songs and (b) find them, instead of offensive, highly entertaining. (HA! I JUST COMBINED OFFENSIVE MUSIC AND MY THESIS IN ONE PARAGRAPH.)
It reminded me of Larry, the Hebrew School driver from last year, who loved to show us his latest rap videos on the Escalade DVD player. He also often threatened to report to Rafi on Wednesdays (I worked on Tuesdays) how I knew all the dirty words, and that my dance moves were too good for a Hebrew school teacher.
This driver's name is Jeki. Let me know if you want his card. He's TONS of fun! But don't expect to be able to hear when you reach your destination.
Time for me to do something else I love, because it's my birthday. It's time for BED!
On Wednesday nights, I enjoy the Conservative Yeshiva's learning community at Hebrew U. The way it works is they bring Schechter students (Rafi and some of my other favorite future-rabbi friends) to teach Torah to unsuspecting Hebrew U students looking for a free bagel. I've been joking that I'm Rafi's volunteer project, because if I don't go, he won't have a chevruta (friend/study partner) to teach. Deep down, however, I love the one-on-one attention, the text study, and the eating and schmoozing with my peers and the Rabbi who runs the program.
This week, Raf taught me how to read Rashi script. For those of you who either (a) know Hebrew fluently or (b) know about my passion for Israeli carrots, and the carrot in general, or (c) think I'm funny, will appreciate this vignette. I was (apparently doing very well at) mumbling out the right words with the screwy script (as if Hebrew isn't HARD ENOUGH TO READ), and translating , word by word. "Shmuel. Samuel." and "Hoo. He." and so on and so forth. Then I read "גזרותיו / g'zeirotav" and looked up at Rafi. "His carrots?" I said.
My carrot. Oh, I'm so very classy. Taken back when I was 25. Photo courtesy of Elana D., I believe.After Rafi stopped laughing, he explained that that word means "His decrees" where "His" = God. I protested, saying that if a word has the root (get it? root! double meaning strikes again!) of G-Z-R / גזר, then it should have to do with carrots.
Ami, Rafi's California classmate explained that Sephardic (Spanish) Jews eat carrots on Rosh HaShanah to reverse any evil decrees. I'm going to start doing that! Ami is awesome. I love these Rab students....
Today, my Hebrew tutor told me that the Z / ז is actually adapted from a very ancient language that was folded into Hebrew, almost seamlessly. Funny how my "fun" learning and my "sooooo unfun" academic Hebrew learning lined up this week.
After learning, the CY funds cabs to take us back to town, which is nicer than taking the hour-long bus. Rafi and I piled in with his neighbor, the inimitable Gideon. Our driver this week, by chance, was driving a Benz (not so unusual), and I happened to perk up my ears to hear the music he was playing on the stereo. Usually, the cabs in Jerusalem play Galgalatz or some other popular music station. This guy was listening to the world's most offensive music, on his own, burned CD, so naturally I was in heaven, and started singing along and dancing around the backseat as much as the seatbelt allowed. The driver noticed, and turned up the music really loudly.
Not the cab I was in, but a cab nevertheless. This one was in Tel Aviv on 25 Dec 2007.That's how I ended up driving by the Old City, just by the Western Wall, with the wind blowing through my hair, as Rafi, Gideon and I all boogied in the cab to classics such as "Smack Dat" by Akon (featuring an Eminem rap that includes the terrificly rapped "puddy-cat-dawls.") and "Fantasy" by Ludacris ([insert an inappropriate "lick" quote here]). It was ridiculous. But it certainly exposed one of the many polarities of Israel, which is currently my proposed thesis topic. I don't think I'd use those lyrics with campers. Or adults. Or anybody that may think it disgusting that I (a) know these songs and (b) find them, instead of offensive, highly entertaining. (HA! I JUST COMBINED OFFENSIVE MUSIC AND MY THESIS IN ONE PARAGRAPH.)
It reminded me of Larry, the Hebrew School driver from last year, who loved to show us his latest rap videos on the Escalade DVD player. He also often threatened to report to Rafi on Wednesdays (I worked on Tuesdays) how I knew all the dirty words, and that my dance moves were too good for a Hebrew school teacher.
This driver's name is Jeki. Let me know if you want his card. He's TONS of fun! But don't expect to be able to hear when you reach your destination.
Time for me to do something else I love, because it's my birthday. It's time for BED!
26 December 2007
Tel Aviv Tuesday (Yuletide Edition)
I sorely missed my friend Shiran and her amazing family, and I had just survived a pretty wretched midterms / finals / rewrites / thesis forming / stupid strike, so after writing the last midterm (!) paper and doing more work on my thesis (I think I may be getting somewhere. Thank goodness for my advisor!), I headed to Tel Aviv for the afternoon and evening.
I arrived at the Tel Aviv Central bus station and, to my amusement, my shock, and my delight, I found massive Christmas displays in the bus station's mall! The lights! The trees! The boxes of ornaments! I felt like I had wandered back into a South Florida mall -- just add the stench of cigarette smoke and ambiguously connected floors, nudge an inter-city bus terminal off of one corridor, and you've got Tel Aviv's Central Bus station on Christmas Day!
Coral Square Mall? No...Keep Guessing...
Aventura Mall? No...One more try...
Tel Aviv Central Bus Station?! BINGO! Yuletide glow is felt all 'round this secular city!
Na-nac-nachman meuman followed me to Tel Aviv. This graffiti is very popular and found ALL over the place in Israel.
I left the bus station and made my way down to Nachalat Benyamin, a crafty street fair that is open in Tel Aviv every Tuesday and Friday. I got a huge Diet Coke at Burger King (ordering in Hebrew) and wandered around the fair's pretty displays for a long while. I ran into a bunch of Florida kids on Birthright, and the new UF rabbi, ordained at JTS last spring. It was fun to see the FL kids, and to hear that Yoni's enjoying UF Hillel! (Also, Go GATORS! Wooo!)
A fine retail establishment, close to Shuk HaCarmel and Nachalat Benyamin. There didn't seem to be any books inside, so we can chalk this up to crazy Israeli translation skills (like when you order a "beagle with lox").
I also wandered through Shuk HaCarmel (FYI, Davidson Chevre: This is actually fun when it's not raining!), and up and down Sheinkin Street, which has funky shops. I FINALLY got new leggings (or, as they say in Hebrew, "tights"), as I discovered that Tel Aviv is the leggings capital of Israel. Jerusalem is not the capital of leggings...or Israel, for that matter, at least according to my home country. I'm just trying to raise the intellectual bar a little, seeing as how I'm just talking about shopping here. But really. Leggings are hard to find in Jerusalem. And so is the US Embassy, because it's in Tel Aviv.
Anyway, the leggings came in this fabulous bag:
Sometimes, when Israelis put English on things, they just throw words together that they think look cool. I was half mortified, half elated, to be carrying such a disgusting and ridiculous bag, filled with, not sex, but two pairs of leggings and my fleece jacket.
When Shiran met me as the sun was setting on Allenby Street (Sheinkin, Nachalat Benyamin and the Shuk are all spokes off of an intersection at Allenby), we got her some backpacking pants (she's going to India!), and then I made her convince me that I needed not only a new necklace for my birthday, but a new wallet as well. Happy birthday to me!
"It's a fine neck-LACE," as they'd say on the State.
Look, I got a wallet for an adult! For the first time since high school, I will be using an adult wallet! I'm growing up, I guess:
Big Girl Wallet outside!
After all this, we amused ourselves with the finer things in life: גרבי חברות / Garbei Chaveroot / Friendship socks. See:
גרבי חברות / Friendship socks!
We also had a jeans-trying-on adventure in Castro (um, zippers at the ankles are just not OK), which is like Express in the States, and we got fruit shakes before our bus ride back to her hometown.
Dinner was great, and I feel like I can actually talk in Hebrew with Shiran and her family. I told them what it was like to prepare for a hurricane, and we conducted much of the conversation in Hebrew. It was awesome. With ulpan back and school (supposedly) operational, and my visits to my Israeli pseudo-families, I just may be able to converse with Israelis wherever we may meet!
After watching most of the Israeli Try-Out-For-Grease-Idol, I was tired and got on the bus back to Jerusalem. As the bus rolled back to Jerusalem, another successful Tel Aviv Tuesday spun to a close.
PS - I love Shiran and her family!
I arrived at the Tel Aviv Central bus station and, to my amusement, my shock, and my delight, I found massive Christmas displays in the bus station's mall! The lights! The trees! The boxes of ornaments! I felt like I had wandered back into a South Florida mall -- just add the stench of cigarette smoke and ambiguously connected floors, nudge an inter-city bus terminal off of one corridor, and you've got Tel Aviv's Central Bus station on Christmas Day!
Coral Square Mall? No...Keep Guessing...
Aventura Mall? No...One more try...
Tel Aviv Central Bus Station?! BINGO! Yuletide glow is felt all 'round this secular city!
Na-nac-nachman meuman followed me to Tel Aviv. This graffiti is very popular and found ALL over the place in Israel.I left the bus station and made my way down to Nachalat Benyamin, a crafty street fair that is open in Tel Aviv every Tuesday and Friday. I got a huge Diet Coke at Burger King (ordering in Hebrew) and wandered around the fair's pretty displays for a long while. I ran into a bunch of Florida kids on Birthright, and the new UF rabbi, ordained at JTS last spring. It was fun to see the FL kids, and to hear that Yoni's enjoying UF Hillel! (Also, Go GATORS! Wooo!)
A fine retail establishment, close to Shuk HaCarmel and Nachalat Benyamin. There didn't seem to be any books inside, so we can chalk this up to crazy Israeli translation skills (like when you order a "beagle with lox").I also wandered through Shuk HaCarmel (FYI, Davidson Chevre: This is actually fun when it's not raining!), and up and down Sheinkin Street, which has funky shops. I FINALLY got new leggings (or, as they say in Hebrew, "tights"), as I discovered that Tel Aviv is the leggings capital of Israel. Jerusalem is not the capital of leggings...or Israel, for that matter, at least according to my home country. I'm just trying to raise the intellectual bar a little, seeing as how I'm just talking about shopping here. But really. Leggings are hard to find in Jerusalem. And so is the US Embassy, because it's in Tel Aviv.
Anyway, the leggings came in this fabulous bag:
Sometimes, when Israelis put English on things, they just throw words together that they think look cool. I was half mortified, half elated, to be carrying such a disgusting and ridiculous bag, filled with, not sex, but two pairs of leggings and my fleece jacket.When Shiran met me as the sun was setting on Allenby Street (Sheinkin, Nachalat Benyamin and the Shuk are all spokes off of an intersection at Allenby), we got her some backpacking pants (she's going to India!), and then I made her convince me that I needed not only a new necklace for my birthday, but a new wallet as well. Happy birthday to me!
"It's a fine neck-LACE," as they'd say on the State.Look, I got a wallet for an adult! For the first time since high school, I will be using an adult wallet! I'm growing up, I guess:
Big Girl Wallet outside!After all this, we amused ourselves with the finer things in life: גרבי חברות / Garbei Chaveroot / Friendship socks. See:
גרבי חברות / Friendship socks!We also had a jeans-trying-on adventure in Castro (um, zippers at the ankles are just not OK), which is like Express in the States, and we got fruit shakes before our bus ride back to her hometown.
Dinner was great, and I feel like I can actually talk in Hebrew with Shiran and her family. I told them what it was like to prepare for a hurricane, and we conducted much of the conversation in Hebrew. It was awesome. With ulpan back and school (supposedly) operational, and my visits to my Israeli pseudo-families, I just may be able to converse with Israelis wherever we may meet!
After watching most of the Israeli Try-Out-For-Grease-Idol, I was tired and got on the bus back to Jerusalem. As the bus rolled back to Jerusalem, another successful Tel Aviv Tuesday spun to a close.
PS - I love Shiran and her family!
24 December 2007
Sort of Bringing SBB Back
Rothberg was liberated from the strike today, so as the Israeli government and Senior professors continue to ruin lives, they have decided to spare mine. I'll be in Israel until June. Sorry, Mere and E and everyone else in NYC that I miss...
I'm not so much done with my work for my thesis, or with one of my midterms, but I figured it was time to post SOMETHING. Below are pictures of things that happened in Ulpan, before the strike and during Hanukkah. There are also pictures from visiting a funny falafel/schwarma place on Ben Yehuda street (a precursor to my Birthright Season post, coming soon!), and from the shuk, where I often find things interesting, or hilarious.
Countdown to 26: 4 days! Also, Merry Christmas to all of those non-Jews that turn to my blob for Jewish education.
"Do you think I'm on Birthright? Because I'm not." -- Fun at a schwarma place on Ben Yehuda. Highly recommended because of customer service and flavor of the food!
It worked on me, as you can see from the picture above. Also, I've been documenting ridiculous Israel spellings in translations of things here. Translation errors may be my most precious joy in life...
Fellow Ramah Aleph students join the guitar guy on the stage at the front of the classroom during our 8th-day-of-hanukkah shirah session. I felt like I was at camp. It was amazing. And it ended with free donuts. Heaven.
Mr. Ulpan Rockstar.
I walked into my Hebrew class to see my worst nightmare: Math. In Hebrew. And not even calculus!
The past two Friday nights, I have going to services at two different Breslav shuls -- one in Har Nof, which is super-dee-duper religious, and one in Katamon, which is also pretty religious, but not as fun. Their mechitza involves an upstairs, a separate door, and a latticework wall between you and the air above the men. It's pretty extensive, and not as good as the Har Nof shul. Points to Har Nof! (Rafi liked Lecha Dodi better at Katamon, but what can I say...he's cute, not perfect!)
Rabbi Nachum of Breslav was the big deal rebbe for these chasidim, which is why he has his own song. In the Hebrew it is: ...נ נח נחמ נחמן or in English: Na, nach, nachma, nachman... It's pretty sweet, it's just adding another letter each syllable. I find myself humming it when the Breslav mobiles blast it from their Ram Kol (microphones, like on cop cars, but louder) when they're going down the street. The other thing I like about Breslavers is that they wear Shtreimels. I LOVE these beaver (yes, I said beaver) hats. They're super-expensive, super-warm, and super-hilarious.
Signs like these let me know that I'm enjoying super-shmittah carrots.
I'm not so much done with my work for my thesis, or with one of my midterms, but I figured it was time to post SOMETHING. Below are pictures of things that happened in Ulpan, before the strike and during Hanukkah. There are also pictures from visiting a funny falafel/schwarma place on Ben Yehuda street (a precursor to my Birthright Season post, coming soon!), and from the shuk, where I often find things interesting, or hilarious.
Countdown to 26: 4 days! Also, Merry Christmas to all of those non-Jews that turn to my blob for Jewish education.
"Do you think I'm on Birthright? Because I'm not." -- Fun at a schwarma place on Ben Yehuda. Highly recommended because of customer service and flavor of the food!
It worked on me, as you can see from the picture above. Also, I've been documenting ridiculous Israel spellings in translations of things here. Translation errors may be my most precious joy in life...
Fellow Ramah Aleph students join the guitar guy on the stage at the front of the classroom during our 8th-day-of-hanukkah shirah session. I felt like I was at camp. It was amazing. And it ended with free donuts. Heaven.
Mr. Ulpan Rockstar.
I walked into my Hebrew class to see my worst nightmare: Math. In Hebrew. And not even calculus! 
The past two Friday nights, I have going to services at two different Breslav shuls -- one in Har Nof, which is super-dee-duper religious, and one in Katamon, which is also pretty religious, but not as fun. Their mechitza involves an upstairs, a separate door, and a latticework wall between you and the air above the men. It's pretty extensive, and not as good as the Har Nof shul. Points to Har Nof! (Rafi liked Lecha Dodi better at Katamon, but what can I say...he's cute, not perfect!)Rabbi Nachum of Breslav was the big deal rebbe for these chasidim, which is why he has his own song. In the Hebrew it is: ...נ נח נחמ נחמן or in English: Na, nach, nachma, nachman... It's pretty sweet, it's just adding another letter each syllable. I find myself humming it when the Breslav mobiles blast it from their Ram Kol (microphones, like on cop cars, but louder) when they're going down the street. The other thing I like about Breslavers is that they wear Shtreimels. I LOVE these beaver (yes, I said beaver) hats. They're super-expensive, super-warm, and super-hilarious.
Signs like these let me know that I'm enjoying super-shmittah carrots.
I Know Better...
My mother taught me, at some point, that if I don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
As usual, I am disregarding that statement. The Israeli Senior Educator strike is trying desparately to ruin my life. Will I go back to NYC? I don't know yet...but time is running out for me to make a decision. I'm FURIOUS at Israel and socialism and bureauocracy and corrupt govenment and people that are more stubborn than I (who knew such a thing existed?).
Michelle says the drop-dead date for the strike is Dec 30th. JPost reports it's January 13th, or they'll cancel the semester.
I'm still trying to get stuff for on my thesis, and working on a midterm that is due on Wednesday, even though my teacher isn't teaching. I've had off from Shprockets for 2 weeks, because the professor was sick, and tonight he's doing Christmas services in Amman, Jordan (he's so cool). That class will be back on in a week, so no worries. I've also taken advantage of the strike-freed time to go to an academic conference, which taught me that I am not a fan of academia, although it was interesting. The best part was the mini-concert and conversation with Shaanan Street, from HaDag NaChash.
The Davidson trip is in Israel, so I hung out with some of my classmates last night in Jerusalem. "Birthright Season" started last week, and soon, I will post pictures of my great-great grandlittle and my great grandlittle, my 2002 Wheelnik (who was STAFFING), and my old Wheels 1997 friend Miritski. As Birthright Season continues, I hope I'll be here to play with them.
For now, it's papers and preparing for my birthday Oneg. Just a few days until I'm 26!
As usual, I am disregarding that statement. The Israeli Senior Educator strike is trying desparately to ruin my life. Will I go back to NYC? I don't know yet...but time is running out for me to make a decision. I'm FURIOUS at Israel and socialism and bureauocracy and corrupt govenment and people that are more stubborn than I (who knew such a thing existed?).
Michelle says the drop-dead date for the strike is Dec 30th. JPost reports it's January 13th, or they'll cancel the semester.
I'm still trying to get stuff for on my thesis, and working on a midterm that is due on Wednesday, even though my teacher isn't teaching. I've had off from Shprockets for 2 weeks, because the professor was sick, and tonight he's doing Christmas services in Amman, Jordan (he's so cool). That class will be back on in a week, so no worries. I've also taken advantage of the strike-freed time to go to an academic conference, which taught me that I am not a fan of academia, although it was interesting. The best part was the mini-concert and conversation with Shaanan Street, from HaDag NaChash.
The Davidson trip is in Israel, so I hung out with some of my classmates last night in Jerusalem. "Birthright Season" started last week, and soon, I will post pictures of my great-great grandlittle and my great grandlittle, my 2002 Wheelnik (who was STAFFING), and my old Wheels 1997 friend Miritski. As Birthright Season continues, I hope I'll be here to play with them.
For now, it's papers and preparing for my birthday Oneg. Just a few days until I'm 26!
19 December 2007
"Do I Look Like A Prophet To You?"
"Do I Look Like A Prophet To You?"
(A high-up member of the Hebrew department's response when asked about the next 6 weeks / months of my Hebrew education here at Hebrew U.)
A visit to the Hebrew department proved to be more frustrating today than helpful. The person we spoke to was nice (well, mostly), but just like EVERYBODY ELSE in this ridiculous country, they have no clue what's going on with the strike, that has metastasized to the international school, thereby ruining my life. As a good friend points out, I was once an observer of the strikes in Israel. Now, I am another victim.
Here's what I do know:
1. Some of my professors are striking, including 1 of my 2 Hebrew teachers.
2. My striking education professor has pledged to meet with me to discuss my papers and grant me full credit at the end of the semester. He is stellar.
3. If they cannot guarantee me a Spring semester with normal, uninterrupted classes, I will be returning to NY, and JTS, in the spring.
4. The offices at school claim they will know more on Sunday.
While TiVos across the states, during the current writers' strike, lie sadly empty, forcing reruns on my beloved, fellow Americans, Universities across Israel lie sort-of fallow, with some classes happening, and some not happening. Tomorrow is the 2-year anniversary of the irritatingly freezing NYC transit strike of 2005 (and, coincidentally, my 2-year anniversary with Rafi). That strike was cold, and ridiculous, and over in, what, 3 days? Not having new episodes of the Office and Grey's Anatomy makes me sad, having to Rollerblade to work in 10 degrees F is crazy, but getting screwed out of education is a CRIME. And I will not sit idly by and let Israel ruin my year and my graduate education.
What happened to negotiations? Why can't the lawyers and representatives get together and work something out BEFORE it gets to semester-long strikes? Why does everything have to be so dramatic here?
Should I be surprised that a country that has never been able work out a peace agreement with hostile neighbors cannot find a way to properly pay their professors, or at least, not force a catastrophic stop in business, the after shocks of which will be felt for years.
What the hell is wrong with this country?
(A high-up member of the Hebrew department's response when asked about the next 6 weeks / months of my Hebrew education here at Hebrew U.)
A visit to the Hebrew department proved to be more frustrating today than helpful. The person we spoke to was nice (well, mostly), but just like EVERYBODY ELSE in this ridiculous country, they have no clue what's going on with the strike, that has metastasized to the international school, thereby ruining my life. As a good friend points out, I was once an observer of the strikes in Israel. Now, I am another victim.
Here's what I do know:
1. Some of my professors are striking, including 1 of my 2 Hebrew teachers.
2. My striking education professor has pledged to meet with me to discuss my papers and grant me full credit at the end of the semester. He is stellar.
3. If they cannot guarantee me a Spring semester with normal, uninterrupted classes, I will be returning to NY, and JTS, in the spring.
4. The offices at school claim they will know more on Sunday.
While TiVos across the states, during the current writers' strike, lie sadly empty, forcing reruns on my beloved, fellow Americans, Universities across Israel lie sort-of fallow, with some classes happening, and some not happening. Tomorrow is the 2-year anniversary of the irritatingly freezing NYC transit strike of 2005 (and, coincidentally, my 2-year anniversary with Rafi). That strike was cold, and ridiculous, and over in, what, 3 days? Not having new episodes of the Office and Grey's Anatomy makes me sad, having to Rollerblade to work in 10 degrees F is crazy, but getting screwed out of education is a CRIME. And I will not sit idly by and let Israel ruin my year and my graduate education.
What happened to negotiations? Why can't the lawyers and representatives get together and work something out BEFORE it gets to semester-long strikes? Why does everything have to be so dramatic here?
Should I be surprised that a country that has never been able work out a peace agreement with hostile neighbors cannot find a way to properly pay their professors, or at least, not force a catastrophic stop in business, the after shocks of which will be felt for years.
What the hell is wrong with this country?
17 December 2007
[Insert Expletive Here]
Let me preface this entry by saying that I'm most probably overreacting.
I know I said that I'm on a Hafsakah from writing on this blob until I'm finished with finals and midterms, but there is some breaking news that gives me time to write:
In a turn of events that can only be described with adjectives that are not appropriate for my parents, my grandparents, schoolchildren and any civilized, public conversation, the Israeli University שביתה / shvitah / strike has extended to the International school. I woke up EARLY today to get to my Hebrew class, only to find it was cancelled.
Now, you may think that this enhances my cultural experience and that now I understand better the plight of the Israeli university student. This, however, is not the case. It just makes me angry.
If I am to complete the credits I need to transfer to JTS, to be on schedule for my third year of the MA program, and to graduate on time, then I have to complete the classes I'm taking in Israel. The repercussions of this strike could be personally disastrous, nevermind that the senior lecturer strike is putting the entire Israeli higher educational system in peril. Israeli Universities may have to cancel the ENTIRE academic year if they cannot reach an agreement, as they've already pissed away more than half of the regular schools' semester.
I understand they don't get paid enough. I understand being a teacher or professor in the Israeli education system, from K-PhD, is rough. What I don't understand is what I have to do with this. I'm not Israeli. I paid (and I was given a generous scholarship) to learn at Hebrew U. Not to show up at a teacherless class.
I may have extra time to write my papers, but what happens in a few weeks, if there's still no school? Will I chance it out and stay here for a Spring semester that doesn't happen, screwing me out of, among other things, a semester of grad school, a timely graduation, and that pie in the sky, a salary with medical and dental? Will I have to leave Israel and return to New York to take classes at JTS for the Spring semester, so I can still graduate on time? At this point, it's all possible.
There are a lot of things that piss me off about Israel. Yes, I'm having a good time, and I'm learning a lot, but that doesn't mean I don't find certain things frustrating. Why can't Israel have normal water heaters that heat water all the time? Why can't the whole world just speak English? Why don't my schools' calendars line up, rather than land me in midterms AND finals at the same time. And WHY, oh WHY, did I not have my Hebrew class today!?
I know I said that I'm on a Hafsakah from writing on this blob until I'm finished with finals and midterms, but there is some breaking news that gives me time to write:
In a turn of events that can only be described with adjectives that are not appropriate for my parents, my grandparents, schoolchildren and any civilized, public conversation, the Israeli University שביתה / shvitah / strike has extended to the International school. I woke up EARLY today to get to my Hebrew class, only to find it was cancelled.
Now, you may think that this enhances my cultural experience and that now I understand better the plight of the Israeli university student. This, however, is not the case. It just makes me angry.
If I am to complete the credits I need to transfer to JTS, to be on schedule for my third year of the MA program, and to graduate on time, then I have to complete the classes I'm taking in Israel. The repercussions of this strike could be personally disastrous, nevermind that the senior lecturer strike is putting the entire Israeli higher educational system in peril. Israeli Universities may have to cancel the ENTIRE academic year if they cannot reach an agreement, as they've already pissed away more than half of the regular schools' semester.
I understand they don't get paid enough. I understand being a teacher or professor in the Israeli education system, from K-PhD, is rough. What I don't understand is what I have to do with this. I'm not Israeli. I paid (and I was given a generous scholarship) to learn at Hebrew U. Not to show up at a teacherless class.
I may have extra time to write my papers, but what happens in a few weeks, if there's still no school? Will I chance it out and stay here for a Spring semester that doesn't happen, screwing me out of, among other things, a semester of grad school, a timely graduation, and that pie in the sky, a salary with medical and dental? Will I have to leave Israel and return to New York to take classes at JTS for the Spring semester, so I can still graduate on time? At this point, it's all possible.
There are a lot of things that piss me off about Israel. Yes, I'm having a good time, and I'm learning a lot, but that doesn't mean I don't find certain things frustrating. Why can't Israel have normal water heaters that heat water all the time? Why can't the whole world just speak English? Why don't my schools' calendars line up, rather than land me in midterms AND finals at the same time. And WHY, oh WHY, did I not have my Hebrew class today!?
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