A Busy Week: April 2015

Hi everyone! No time no blog, good to be back. As most of you know, I was home (as in, America) for 3 weeks for Passover, which was super nice. It was great to see my family and friends, including many of you, to be in my house (no dorm room showers!), and to just have a nice holiday and a good break from my routine here in Israel. Needless to say, I was thrilled to be back in Israel, although there was that obvious pang of sadness in having to leave my family. Since returning to Israel, I want to say I've fallen back into my routine, but it's been such a busy time that there's hardly been a routine.  

Last week, I began the week with a tour of Mount Herzl, Israel's largest military cemetery, located in Jerusalem. It was a chance for us to see the place from an educational perspective, talking about the place and the soldiers who were buried there with our teachers on an otherwise quiet day. We walked passed the graves of thousands of soldiers, from those buried in 1948 to those buried last week (yes, literally last week). One of the most special and amazing things about Israel is that from the most well-known, publicized, honored soldier deaths (think Yonatan Netanyahu, brother of Bibi Netanyahu, who was killed in Operation Antebe in the 70s), regardless of rank or class or race, every single soldier is buried in the exact same grave, same headstone, same height, width, all in even, modest rows of neat, understated marble. Privates, lieutenants, war heroes, Ethiopians, Europeans, Americans, Israelis, black, white, girl, boy, poor, rich, everyone alike. In America, the military is often a divisive system, attracting certain classes, regions of the country, and socio-economic groups, in Israel, it is truly the great equalizer. Everyone is drafted, everyone must serve (as you can imagine, this is why the abstention of much of the Ultra Orthodox community from the army is so offensive and upsetting to so many people and is increasingly unpopular and unacceptable). 

Monday morning, we were dealt harsh news: Rabbi Aaron Lichtenstein (z''l) passed away at age 82. For many of you this may mean nothing, but to members of the orthodox Jewish community this was a huge blow. Rav Aharon was one of the greatest rabbis of our generation, a household name in our community. He was a genius, noted for his humility and compassion. He was a proponent of values such as the importance of women's Jewish learning on the highest level (ex: Talmud), the importance of the modern State of Israel, serving in the army, and mastering all areas of Jewish thought (many people stress Talmud over everything else, claiming or at least indicating that everything else is less important or less prestigious). He was also the Rav (Rabbi) of most of my teachers, and had a close relationship with many of them, so Monday morning was a paralyzing time for them and for my whole school. We spent much of the time discussing Rav Aharon, who I never met but have learned from and about my whole life, and learning in his memory. At his funeral the next day, which I was so privileged to attend, there were over 10,000 people. It was such an emotional and special experience to be a part of such a seminal moment for Modern Orthodoxy and to be witness to an amazing gathering of so many people touched by one single person. 

Tuesday night we moved into mourning, as it was Yom HaZikaron (Remembrance Day For Israel's Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terror). My memories of American memorial day have always involved barbecues, children rolling around on lush spring grass, bare feet on the warm sand, and a scant number of small American flags, displayed almost as an afterthought. It's possible that it's different in different places in America, but for me, Memorial Day was never anything more than a (hopefully) sunny day off. In Israel, this couldn't be farther from the truth. In a country of 8 million people, it's not an exaggeration to say that eveyrone knows at least one person who has been killed in the army. Usually, it's many more than one, and quite often, they are brothers, sisters, fathers, cousins, friends or neighbors. Victims of terror are much the same, as terrorism is an unfortunate reality in Israel, and although it ebbs and flows in the number of attacks and in their maliciousness and casualties, it is always there. This year, I can't even count on two hands how many terrorist attacks there have been. The ones that make then news are only the bloodiest, most photo-worthy ones with the greatest number of victims, but multiple times a month people are stabbed, hit with cars, stoned, attacked, and terrorized in so many different, horrifying ways, simply for the crime of being Israeli. To live with terrorism as an acknowledged, somewhat accepted part of life is no simple thing.

For Yom HaZikaron, we returned to Mt. Herzl, this time not for the education but for the experience. We were joined by more than 150,000 others, there to mourn sons, friends, relatives, and to share in the burden and responsibility of national memory. This year, there are more than 100 graves that weren't there last year, young boys killed protecting their homeland. To see mothers bent over the graves of their sons, wives and girlfriends over the names of husbands and boyfriends, children hugging the tombstones of their fathers, is a sight you can't explain. Strangely enough, though, it is not depressing. It is sad and tragic and greif-inducing, but it is also such a moment of pride and national unity. In contrast to Holocaust Rememberance Day (a week before Yom HaZikaron), which feels so depressing and is such purposeless death and misery, Yom HaZikaron is a moment when we mourn people who died for a purpose, who gave their lives for their nation and for their state. People still live in Israel, even when they lose children, parents, friends. Ask these grieving parents (of which I spoke to many as we weaved through the headstones), and they will express sadness and loss, but they will always say that if their son could have died for one thing, it should be for the glorification of God's name and the State of Israel, the State of the Jewish people. Not one person I've ever spoken to has suggested that the death of their boy or dad or spouse was a waste. It's not for me to say, but I guess that must mean that to them, to us, it is worth it. 

And then, three hours later, BOOM, celebration like you can't imagine. It's Israeli Independence Day, and grief gives way to overwhelming joy, dancing, singing, and national pride. Flags wallpaper buildings, cars and windows, everyone is clad in blue and white, everyone is cheery, smiley and friendly. There is an infectious atmosphere of joy and jubilation, of gratitude for God's grace and the sacrifice of so many that allowed us to be here. It is an amazing and inspiring day. The transition is obviously difficult, but it allows us to see that the tragic loss of young lives was not for nothing, and that likewise, the State of Israel wasn't, and isn't free. The connection between the victims of the Holocaust, the great Jewish leaders of our generation, our lost soldiers, and our glorious, beautiful state, for all its flaws and all the lice, is not lost on us. The fact that such an emotional week culminated in celebrating Israel is a testament to how important Israel is, how lucky and blessed we are. How lucky I am, to be writing this in Israel, in the autonomous Jewish state, where I will be, God willing, again next year. 

Of course, shabbat was super relaxing, just what the doctor ordered after so many hours dashing about from ceremony to ceremony, trip to trip, from joy to sorrow and back to joy again in such short a time. This week has (thus far) been relaxing, sweet, and super hot. And although the crazy Zionism of last week has ended, I still feel it just as strongly as I did beside the graves of fallen soldiers, in the midst of waving Israeli flags, in the unity of voices singing the Israeli National Anthem.  

Love you guys, R

WHERE HAVE I BEEN?! (And where am I going?)

As days have turned into weeks, many of you have probably wondered where I've been. I, the once dedicated blogger, had vanished from the cyberworld without so much as a goodbye. Lest you think I abandoned blogging and sharing my life with all of you without so much as a second thought, rest easy, I did not. I was often quite literally tormented by thoughts of the little blog I'd built, poured hours into, and then so surreptitiously left. I often told myself I would, I must, sit down and write, but never could muster the time, the energy, or the composure to write about a life that seemed so up in the air. What, you might ask, was I doing?  

I have been working, in my mind and heart, and through countless hours of meetings, interviews, and research, on a project bigger, more exciting and more scary than anything I've done in my 19 years of life. It's something I am both crazy excited and a bit nervous about, something I want to do more than I've ever wanted to do anything, and have worked harder for than nearly anything else. It's a decision that is exhilarating, amazing, daunting and life-changing. And I feel so happy and so blessed to have been able to have reached this point, and so eager to share with you what I have been working on.

Without further ado, here's the big secret: I'm not going to college or university next year. I won't even be in America. Next year, I will be doing something called Sherut Leumi, (sheh-root leh-oo-mee) which is basically National Service (sherut=service, leumi=for my nation). It is an option for (primarily religious) girls in place of the army, and you can do either one or two years. I will be working in Ma'ale Adumim (pronounced mah-ah-leh ah-doo-meem), which is a gorgeous city 15 minutes from Jerusalem, about half religious Jews, and half traditional/non-observant Jews. I will be teaching in non-observant elementary schools about Judaism, along with planning community-wide activities and festivities centered around Jewish holidays for the non-observant community in Ma'ale Adumim. As a teacher, I will be teaching about all different topics in Judaism, depending on the age group, from famous Jewish personalities, Jewish holidays, Jewish symbols, Jewish stories, and the weekly Torah portion. It's an amazing opportunity for me to give something so near and dear to my heart, the religion with which I was raised, to children who have never had real exposure to it and likely know very little. I will be teaching in Hebrew (ahhh!), and at nights, I will be planning my lessons along with the other 10 girls who do this. The organization that runs these programs in schools has pre-prepared lessons and advisors to help us, but we are also given the opportunity to initiate ideas and activities. It's a pretty cool experience, and I'm really, really excited about it. As with all girls who do Sherut Leumi (they're called B'not Sherut), I will be living in an apartment in Ma'ale Adumim, and immersing myself in the community there. Luckily, I'll also be very close to Jerusalem, and have lots of friends and family to spend Shabbats with. 

Many of you have probably heard snippets of this from my parents (who, I am very blessed, are extremely supportive, but also cannot kept their mouths closed about this because they're so excited for me), but here it is, straight from the source. When I think about what made me want to do this, there are so many reasons and factors, but once the idea came into my head, I couldn't shake it. I pursued the idea with all my heart, fighting a hard fight against Israeli bureaucracy (not a pleasant experience), and doing a lot of leg work on my own, but it was all worth it when I think about how excited I am for the future. When I look back on the year I've had so far, and my whole life really, I see so many amazing experiences and people who led me to where I am now-my Zionist school, my Zionist parents, my trip to Poland, and simply living in Israel this year, experiencing what it means to live the dream, in the Jewish homeland we are so lucky to have for the first time in two millennia.  

What about after that? I honestly don't know. Maybe I'll do another year of Sherut Leumi. Maybe I'll come back to America. Maybe I'll go to university here. I really have no idea. I'm playing it year by year, trying not to jump in too fast, but I do feel strongly right now that my life is here now, and I hope to remain here, in Israel, to raise a family here and be a part of the future of the Jewish people. 

That doesn't mean I don't love America and won't be coming back to visit all the time (I will be home March 22 for Passover, actually!), but when I think about where I'm supposed to be, I see myself here, as hard as that is. Thank you all for your support, and sorry for being such a horrid blogger. Please know that without my amazing family and friends to support and love me, I would never be where I am. As for the future of this blog, I'm torn about what to do. I feel it would be good to continue blogging through the end of the year, but after that, I'm not sure. Please let me me know what you think-should I blog next year, even if sporadically or less frequently? Miss you all, and cannot wait for March 22. Happy Purim, and all my love-Rebecca 

 

 

PS-Mazal tov to my cousin Ari Zucker on his engagement!!! So excited!!!

Week 18-19 | December 30-January 12, 2015

Reflections: Semester I  

My thoughts on the past semester, hopes for the coming one, and some musings on the last two weeks ( including: snow, friendship, time capsules, and Islamic extremism)  

Tomorrow, we're going on a three-day trip to Eilat, which means the end of the first semester and the beginning of the second. I thought this would be a good time to reflect on the first half of my seminary experience and get ready for the second half of my year. 

This semester I... 

• strengthened my connection to the state of Israel. Living in Israel makes you feel deeply connected to the land and its people in a way I never felt about America. You learn to appreciate it for all its beauty, all its quirks, and all its downfalls, and you feel yourself falling into it, celebrating in times of joy and mourning in times of tragedy, all together. You find yourself laughing when a plethora of stray cats jumps out at you from behind a garbage can, when a soldier's machine gun smacks you on the face on a crowded street, when an angry old lady screams at you in rapid Hebrew for talking too loudly on the bus, when the Muslim Call to Prayer wakes you up at 4:30AM, and when you get trampled in the Shuk (market) in the pre-shabbat rush. When there is a tragedy or a loss, you feel it as though it were in your own family, when there is a victory, you want to shout it from the mountaintop. When you see soldiers, you can't help but smile-and hope your husband is among them ;) , when an elderly person boards a bus, you're one of five people who offers up your seat to her. You find yourself developing an angry Israeli side, appreciating humus and techina on everything from bread to cake to candy (yes, gummy bear flavored techina is a real thing) and thinking Halva is the best thing ever when you used to hate it. You feel uninhibited to pat the soft hair of any little baby you see, and the parents seem to inexplicably trust you because they recognize that you are one of them, a Jew. You stop caring and worrying quite as much about some of the silly things, and prioritizing more. You find yourself wondering how you can give back to the State of Israel that has given you so much. When there is a terrorist attack, you just want to bake a cake for the family and hand out hot chocolate to the cold soldiers standing guard in the night. You always want to do more, not less, and you think of yourself less, not more. That's not to say that I'm not still me, because I am, but I feel like a better version of myself here. I feel less selfish, materialistic, and vain. I want to be better, I want to help, I want to contribute only good, and I see how much my own happiness, positivity, actions and good qualities can impact others in a way I never did before. I still like shopping, I still want to punch someone if they wake me up from a nap, I still style my hair and I will never embrace the casual attitudes Israelis have toward lice, but I feel good here, and for that, and for every other reason, I love Israel. 
• have gotten a lot better at living with people, and learning to be with others while feeling like I have alone time and space. I've learned to be less selfish, be it about the food I buy, sharing everything, and more considerate of the needs and sensitivities of others, even if they're not my own. I've learned to be with people A LOT without feeling like I was suffocating under the weight of constant socializing. I've learned to make it clear to my roommates and friends when I need to be left alone sometimes I allow them to pressure me into talking and hanging out. I've also learned to be with others in total silence, or to lie in bed with Naomi watching TV and feel like we are doing something together without having to do much. I've learned when to ask for more out of my roommates and assert myself and when to just accept that no one is perfect. From living with someone really difficult, I have had a living example of what I don't want to be, and I strive every day not to be like her, while never being mean or unkind to her. 
• I've learned to manage my own money and make smart financial decisions for myself. I've learned, and am still learning, when to say "it's not worth it, money doesn't grow on trees" and when to say "live a little!". Living off your own hard-earned money had taught me so much about responsibility, necessity, generosity, and what really makes me happy (shockingly, shopping doesn't really rank, although I still enjoy a good pair of shoes)
• I've learned so much Torah! I sit all day, and basically, I learn, so after 5 months of that, you would expect me to have learned something, and I have! My Talmud skills have improved drastically, and I've learned to be a good Chevruta (learning partner), and how to gain from my partner in turn. I've learned so much Tanach (Bible), and feel I have a very good handle on a lot of material I hardly knew before. 
• I've seen the power and importance of documentation-be it in pictures, blog posts, or diary entries, documentation is good for later and for now. 
• I realize how much I truly want this-my Jewish identity, Israel, and being a good person. I feel I am living with fewer internal contradictions than ever before, and see myself growing and maturing so much. 

Next semester I hope... 

• to learn a lot more, in every area of life. That means learning everything from stories of the Torah to different approaches to learning to how to get from Jerusalem to Netanya in under two hours to how to read nutrition facts in Hebrew.  
• to read more (and not just quality, but quantity as well) 
• to read three news articles a day in Hebrew, and, as always, look up and write down every word I do not know 
• to go to many more cool places for Shabbat, and get a chance to see as much of Israel as possible
• to form closer bonds with teachers I respect 
• to befriend more girls from the Israeli program-never a bad thing to have more friends 
• to spend more time with my Friendship Circle family and try to help them as much as possible (community service) 
• to solidify my plans for next year, wherever they may be and whatever I may be doing 

These past few weeks have been eventful-between the snowstorm in Israel that gave the country two snow days, a visit from my good friend from home, Rebecca, and a lot of tragic worldwide events, I feel it's a good thing we're going as a school to Eilat, getting out of our routine and out of Jerusalem. News of the recent events have broken our hearts and really highlighted the importance of the State of Israel, the unity of the Jewish people, and of everyone around the world recognizing the dangers of Islamic extremism. It's not just a Jewish problem or a Western problem-it is one of the biggest, if not the biggest, threat to our world right now. I hope we're at the point where, as a worldwide community, we can decide we are tired of this shit. 

 Right now, I'm writing this with prayers for peace around the world, gratitude for a fantastic first semester here and for my many blessings I have had that have led my to this place in my life. The fact that I am here in Israel at all is no simple thing-I owe it to my parents, my community, and basically everyone who has ever given to the state of Israel and kept it going. Scroll down to see some pictures of the last two weeks, and stay tuned for a post about the coming week full of adventures! Rebecca   

 

Week 17 | December 22 - December 29, 2014

Me and Rachel went to a Japanese restaurant restaurant and were seated at the bar, which they told us would make our food come faster. Next thing you know they put down two complementary shots in front of us while we wait for our food (they were super sugary pink drinks so naturally we loved them)

On a tiyul (hike), in the Negev (souther dessert), looking up at the sky from the bottom of a rocky canon.

Friends and rocks ^^^

With our principal :)

The craziest panorama ever. How beautiful is Israel?!

 Hi guys! What a blessed week I've had here. Between the end of Chanukah and all the quality time I got to spend with my cousin, Rachel, my amazing tiyul (hike) in the rock formations of the south, and getting back into my routine after vacation, it was a good week here in Israel. Everything is good and peaceful here. Love you guys! Rebecca

Week 16 | December 15-December 21, 2014

Hello everyone! Happy Chanukah/Holidays from Jerusalem :) This week was a short and sweet week in which I spent most of my time with friends and family, relaxing and enjoying the holiday spirit, indulging in too many sufganiot (tradition donuts with a variety of fillings eaten on Chanukah). I feel the need right now to thank God and publicly recognize how peaceful and calm things have been in Israel in the past two weeks. There was one attack in the West Bank (a terrorist through acid on a family of 5, no one was critically or fatally injured), and many more plans were foiled (including a big suicide bombing in which a Palestinian women planned to disguise herself as a pregnant religious Jew and explode herself in a big crowd over Chanukah). I feel like when things are bad, we dedicate a lot of time to thinking about and reflecting upon tragedy, but when things are good, no one ever stops to say "wow, we are so lucky right now!" In a book my cousin Rachel lent me this week by Chief Lord Rabbi (did I get that right?) Jonathan Saks, he talks about how the fact that we focus on the bad stuff isn't bad, but good. Humans always focus on the outliers, on what does not fit, so the fact that we focus on the bad means that the world is primarily a good, moral, upstanding place. He gave an example of showing a room full of people a big white piece of paper with a single black dot and asking them what they see. The vast majority see a black dot, not the huge white paper, because ultimately, we see what doesn't fit, what isn't right. The fact that murder, theft, and corruption shocks us is because we are so accustomed to honesty and kindness. I thought that was an excellent point.  During this holiday season, a holiday which represent hope in the darkest of times (both literally and figuratively, as today is the winter solstice, as well as a time of great tension here in Israel), it is comforting and inspiring to see the country come alive and light up for Chanukah.

A man lighting his menorah outside his house. It is ideal to light the menorah in a place where it is visible in order to publicize the miracle, and therefore, most Israelis light in small glass boxes outside their homes. The streets are alight with candle light for 8 nights. 

Israel, and Jews in general, never cease to amaze me. I remember staring ahead at a huge expanse of grass in Poland, realizing I was standing on the graves of 900,000 of my fellow Jews, and feeling humbled by our great loss, but in contrast, inspired by how far we've come since. I remember standing in that field (the former death camp Treblinka), wondering how a people that endured what is arguably the greatest tragedy in history could bounce back from that, establish their own state, and become the thriving, upward-bound, ever-improving people we are today. What other people can say that they survived the greatest mass genocide in human history and, in 70 years, have already achieved so much? I don't know why it is that we're able to do that, when so many other nations, religions, and countries have faltered and fallen over so much less. Our strong communities, held together by strong values and an eternal set of ethics and behaviors? Our commitment to upholding the word of God? Our emphasis on education? Our love and respect for one another? The grace of God? I wish I knew. But I'm so impressed and grateful to be part of a people that is capable of so much, that can transform tragedy into beauty and accomplishment, that can make light of the hardest situations, make jokes at the most trying times, and continue to improve and grow in spite of the world around them.

A couple of days ago we lit the first candle of Chanukah. At 4:15pm that day, I got on a bus home, as it is a commandment to light the menorah in one's own home or sleeping place. The bus was packed, and in typical Israeli fashion, everyone was yelling at each other, pushing each other hostilely, and elbowing for more room. Still, all the elderly people were given seats, and the atmosphere was cheery and light. I couldn't help but wonder why the bus was so packed-and yet so jolly at this time of day. Then it occurred to me that everyone, religious or not, secular or Ultra-Orthodox, was going home to light their menorahs. What an amazing feeling it was to be pushed around on that sweaty bus as we all rushed home to light our menorahs as soon as we could. What a great feeling it is to be a part of a people that is all united by one code of common practice. When I think about my greatest fears for Israel-it's not the Arabs or the UN or our public opinion in the secular world-we have always had enemies and always will, and non have successfully destroyed us. It's our treatment of one another, Jew to Jew, that I worry most about, a point my aunt Lori brought up that rings so true to me. When I hear about Jews wronging other Jews-the Ultra-Orthodox throwing stones at cars on Shabbat, Jews cheating in business, our inability to agree on so many things when we share so much more than we don't, that's when the real worry sets in. Our temple 2,000 years ago was destroyed because of "free hate", the fact that the Jewish people could not get along. I hope and pray we never face the same problem again. And when I think about that bus ride, despite all the Middle Eastern hostility and petty anger, I think we can move past that, we can get along, and instead of free hate, we can practice free love (not in the 60s way). Love you all a lot lot lot. Rebecca

Week 15 | December 6- December 14, 2014

Happy Sunday! Here's a look back at the last week here in Israel:

 

 

^we made menorahs for Hanukah on Sunday night. It was so fun (and the first time I've done this since like second grade!)

 

^we went away for the weekend to a random city in the Negev (desert). It was a very interesting and different way to live life than is lived in central Israel. 

 

^Hanukah presents I made for everyone in my school and teachers. Can't wait to give all 85 out!

 

^^successfully crocheted my first Kippa :) This one's for you, Daddy 

So it's the holiday season, which in Israel means it's just Hanukah season, and I feel the impending holiday so closely. The lights, the donuts, and the general cheer in spite of the darkness and the cold (okay, it's not actually cold, it's Israel cold, ya know?) It's getting to that point in the year where I need to start, in some way, thinking about next year. It's weird to be 19-this is the first year in my entire life where I feel like it's actually my life. In a lot of ways it's amazing. I decide what I want to do to a large extent-where to go, what to eat, how to behave and act without my parents around. If I want coffee, I drink coffee. If I want to sleep in, I can sleep in. If I want to buy myself something, I buy it. In a lot of other ways it's so stressful-it's hard to realize that I am now in a position where I can make real decisions about the course of my life. I know this is only the beginning of many, many big decisions, and I know I'm so young, but it's definitely a weird feeling. In other news-when I look back at the last 3.5 months, I realize how much I've learned, both in and out of the classroom-how to crochet, how to take buses, how to say curse in hebrew, how to take buses in Israel, how to be independent and take care of myself, how to clean a duvet cover, how to be a good roommate. I'm not even halfway done here and I feel like even if I went home now, I'd have learned and gained so much. Right now I'm looking forward to Hanukah-I can't wait to give out the presents that I made for everyone and spend time celebrating the first Jewish holiday in two months. I have so many exciting things on the calendar, and I can't wait to share them all with you guys. So much love---Rebecca