Mornings With Bubbes

Today was my first day at Yad L'Kashish. I got there on time at 8:30am, and was taken to the Embroidery and Weaving workshop. The head of the workshop is named Anat. For some reason, she reminds me a lot of someone I know, but I can't quite place her. Her second in command is a very pregant woman named Yulia. Everyone in this workshop is female. The men seem go for metalwork and book binding.

I was handed over to one of the workers, an Israeli named Orit. she started to teach me how to embroider. I had a piece of white cloth with straight lines drawn on with a pencil and ruler, a needle, and some lime green thread. My job: emroider straight lines. After I mastered that, I was set to the task of embroidering straight lines with smaller stitches. Then I learned how to make little round daisies (still using lime green thread). My first attempts weren't exactly circular, but my fifth attempt was perfect. This meant that I was ready for a real project. I'm now in the middle of embroidering a mezzuzah case. So far it just involves embroidering black lines. Later I'll get to fill in spaces with colors. Who knows? Maybe, eventually I'll be able to embroider tallaisim, like Esther and Orit, using gold and silver thread on ivory colored silk. At least I have something to aspire to.

Pretty much, I get to sit and embroider with smeet little old ladies all morning. Actually, Orit doesn't seem like she's over 45, but the others are ancient. Here are my two favorite moments from Day One:

1) Miriam, who's hard of hearing and knits something blue all morning, learning my name and immediately asking, "Are you married?" (All in Hebrew...I don't speak English there. They call me Naama, since Cara is too difficult for Israelis) When I respond in the negative, she replies without hesitation, "May Hashem soon send you a mazel tov."
2) A little old lady, whose name I didn't learn and who appears to be about 92,000 years old, coming into our workhop to lead us in 10 minutes of arm and leg exercises. She's just too cute for words.

After one day, I really like this internship.

Weekend Report

I realize that there really is no such thing as the weekend here in Israel, since we work on Sundays, so this weekend report is really an Erev Shabbos/Shabbos report. Today's report will be in the next post.

I woke up Friday morning in time to throw shabbos clothes into my backpack, dress somewhat presentably, and run down the street a couple of blocks to meet up with fellow bloggers Steg and Treppenwitz. 'Trep' picked us up in his minivan, with adorable mini-Trep in the backseat, and drove us to his home for a lovely brunch with the entire Mishpachat Treppenwitz. This was my first visit to Gush Etzion, and I'm definitely going to be back. (Next shabbos, actually. I really like Mishpachat Treppenwitz, and they're not sick of me yet.) Gush Etzion, for those not used to the real names of places in this part of the world, is sometimes referred to as the West Bank or the Occupied Territories.

I'm going to interject here with a comment of Trep's, which more people should hear. At one point, we were driving on a road through their town, which was bordered by Arab vineyards on the left and Arab vineyards on the right. Yes, that's right, folks. Arab-owned land in the middle of a Jewish "settlement". If, as Trep so rightly says, we Jews were really just interested in a land-grab, don't you think we'd have seized those vineyards, rather than let the Arabs border a frequently used road that runs through a Jewish town?

Back to Erev shabbos. After an extremely enjoyable brunch, Trep was kind enough to drive me back to J'lem, so I could catch a bus to Tel Aviv. I spent my shabbos with Eli and Miryam, which is always fantastic. I've been there enough times that I'm comfortable with their friends. I'll probably go to them for Purim, since these are very funny, entertaining people and Purim is a funny, entertaining chag. Miryam and I caught up on a lot of girl talk, which was wonderful. I don't have any really close female friends here in J'lem. The closest I get is my employer, and that's kind of sad (even though she's fantastic and treats me like a friend, rather than her household help).

I got back to J'lem around midnight, motzei shabbos. Just in time to find another irritant about this apartment (French girl is in Ashdod with her family for the night. So what the devil is her boyfriend doing sleeping on our sofa?!), and go to bed.

Honey, I'm Home...Sort of

Well, that week went by rather quickly. Paris was unbelievable. I'm completely in love with that city. I spent the first two nights on my own in a hostel in district 10, where I made friends with people from all sorts of interesting places, and learned how to say 'I don't speak French" in French. I wandered around during my one day flying solo, finding kosher sushi, the Picasso Museum (note to Picasso fans: this one is a huge disappointment. Not worth the admission fee if you don't speak French) and the Jewish History Museum. The latter was amazing. It starts with Jewish life in Europe from the Middle Ages and goes all the way to the 20th century. Anyone in Paris with a couple of hours to spare should make a point of going.

Then I met up with Big Brother. We spent the next four days or so going to the Rodin Museum, D'Orsay Museum (Impressionist and Post-Impressionist), the Louvre, Notre Dame, Saint Sulpice, Saint Germain Des-Pres, the Middle Ages Museum, the Latin Quarter, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triumph, the Champs Elysee, etc. Bee-you-ti-ful! We did a lot of wandering and exploring, and I did a lot of picture taking. I'm hoping to create some online photo albums this week.

Then Big Brother returned to the States, and I went on to London for two days. To be honest, I prefer Paris. But London was phenomenal (especially stopping in a different pub every couple of hours for a pint), and it was great to spend a couple days with Jacques.

Now I'm back in Yerushalayim, with mixed feelings. I'm thrilled to be back, and to still be able to call it home, but I find myself in a less than ideal situation. I'm looking for a new apartment. My roommate situation just isn't working out. I came back after a week to find my bedroom entirely rearranged with no regard whatsoever for my opinion (and the new arrangement sucks, to put it mildly). Plus, my roommates have decided that they want to rent out the apartment for Pesach. The only problem is that I was planning on being there for the chag. Would I be willing to move out for that week, they ask? After all, it's a great financial opportunity for them to make some easy money. I think this is incredibly chutzpadik, to say the least. They expect me to just pack up so that they can make money...and not even offer to include me in on the plan? I don't think so! So I'm now looking for either a new roommate situation or a studio apartment. Let them pay extra rent without me to cut costs. I'd rather not live with people like this.

Anyone in J'lem looking for a personable, responsible, considerate Jewish girl to live with? Yeah, me too.

Travel Advisory

In about 10 minutes, I'm leaving Israel.

This is the first time in my life that the thought doesn't make me cry. That's probably because I'll be back in a week.

I'm off to Paris to meet Big Brother. Then it'll be London for 2 days, and then I'll return home to J'lem to start my internship.

Cara's European Adventure begins...now.

Au revoir!

This Just In...

I've been accepted to the Loyola University Chicago School of Social Work. This would be pretty cool news at any time, but Loyola also happens to be my first choice for grad school, which makes this news very cool.

I'm still waiting for word on 2 other schools. One is just a backup, and the other no longer interests me all that much, so I'm not too concerned with whether or not I get in. I'm also still considering grad school in Israel, but I have to do more research on Israeli MSW programs and transfering my American non-social work bachelors degree.

However, as much as I don't want to leave Israel, I have a feeling that I'll be back in Chicago for the next couple of years, and going to Loyola. So it's a damn good thing that they accepted me.

I Heart My Life

Every day since moving to J'lem, I've found myself smiling, whistling; or humming a happy tune for no particular reason. I'm just happy to be here. Walking to the bank makes me happy, because I'm walking to the branch in my neighborhood in Yerushalayim. Grocery shopping makes me happy, because I'm stocking up the refridgerator in my apartment in Yerushalayim. Everything makes me happy.

So here are some detailes about the Happy Life of Me. I live in a two bedroom, first floor apartment in the Talpiyot-Baka area. I have two roomates, both of whom made aliyah and were in my ulpan. Jill is 18 and French, and Esther is 26 and Canadian-born Morrocan. Pesach should be interesting, since I'll be sharing a kitchen with two Sephardic girls, and I'm as Ashkenazi as they come. Jill and I share a bedroom. We occassionally hit a language barrier, but overall we manage to communicate just fine. The apartment is big and bright, with a large living room, separate kitchen and balcony.

Though I don't have much to do at the moment, I will soon be very busy. At the end of February, I will be spending every morning volunteering with Yad L'Kashish (Lifeline for the Aged). I've recently landed a babaysitting job for a family in my neighborhood, so my afternoons will also be full. All that remains is to find some shiurim, and I don't think that will be a problem. After all, this is Yerushalayim.

Before my busy work schedule begins, however, I'll be temporarily leaving this marvelous city. I'm meeting up with Big Brother in Paris for 4-5 days, and then going on to London for 2 days to visit a friend.

So, right now, my life is about as perfect as it can be. It's good to be me.

Return To The Real World

Summer camp has officially ended. I no longer live on the kibbutz. I am no longer in ulpan. I have moved to an apartment in Yerushalayim (in Talpiyot, for those familiar with this marvelous city.) and plan to remain here until mid-May.

I apologize for the total lack of blogging during the month of January. The ulpan computer broke. Blogging should become more frequent, as I'll have more reliable access to the internet. (I'm currently using my roomate's computer, since we haven't quite figured out how to configure mine to access the internet. French keyboards are downright weird. They put letters and symbols in odd places. Like flipping the 'a' and the 'q'. I've never been so aware of just how many words use the letter 'a'.)

I don't really know what to think or feel about finishing the ulpan. When I planned out this year, five months had seemed like a sizable chunk of time. It went by so quickly. I'm more than halfway through my time in this country. It's a depressing thought.

On the other hand, I've already accomplished so much of what I came here to do, and not just the part about learning Hebrew. I've come to realize so much about myself: the person I was when I left Chicago, the person I want to be, the kind of person I want to be with, the kind of person I don't want to be with. I see my Chicago life from an entirely different perspective now, and I know that some of this is going to leave a lasting impression. There are aspects of my life that are going to have to change when I go back to the States, and some of those changes will be difficult and painful. I'm starting to think that perhaps one of the reasons I came here was to give myself the opportunity to sort through some of this stuff. Baruch Hashem.

So here I am, back in a big city, in an apartment, having to pay bills and buy groceries and whatnot. The vacation part of my vacation is over. I will try to give more details in the coming posts about life on the ulpan and life in Yerushalayim. I'm hoping to have the time to make this blog more personal again. Until then, I'm going to do my little happy dqnce and sing my "I Live In Yerushalayim" happy song.

Next Year in Jerusalem

(Apologies to those who don't believe in celebrating the secular new year. Deal with it).

Jacque, Miguel and I are about to go to Yerushalayim to meet up with more friends and celebrate the end of 2005 and beginning of 2006. Being Cara, I find it impossible not to reflect on the past calendar year.

2005 didn't start off so well. At the end of December/beginning of January, Liz told me that her tumor was back and growing quickly. I took a vacation to California a week or so later, and remember talking to my aunt about how much I wanted to visit Liz, and wanted to get Tabitha to come with me. February was insanely busy at work, and I just counted down the days until I could go see Liz.

March was the visit to Pittsburgh with Tab and Paco. It was the last time I ever saw her or heard her voice. I was supposed to visit again in early April, but she was too ill by then. Then it was Pesach, and she was gone. April was hell.

The summer months were a combination of dealing with my grief and planning for Israel. I left my job in July and went to Disney World for the first time. I studied for the GREs and decided which graduate schools to apply to.

September 1st landed me in Israel. After a week of traveling, I came to the kibbutz. I've made some very special friends, and can actually have conversations in Hebrew. (Though, since this shabbat was only Jacque, Miguel and me, I think I've spoken more in Spanish).

And now it's about to be January 2006. Like always, I have no idea what this year will bring. I certainly had no idea at 00:00am, 1/1/05, what 2005 would bring. Looking back on the past year, the only thing that really jumps out at me is Liz. I know there were other things that happened, both positive and negative. But all of them are overshadowed by losing my friend. Maybe that will change in time, or maybe 2005 will just remain in my memory as the Year I Lost Liz. It's too soon to tell.

In any case, I wish all of you out there a happy New Year, full of family, friends, and only simchas.

Week in Review

A quick list of the cool things I've seen in the past week:

* Sufganiyot are everywhere. Better than the ones we get at my shul in Chicago, not nearly as good as the ones I've learned to make from scratch.
* No Christmas jingles in stores.
* Chanukiot in hotel lobbies, hospitals, coffee shops, public squares, and even in pubs.
* Did I mention no Christmas jingles?

A quick list of the strange things I've experienced in the last week:

* A cab driver who insisted on mimicking American, British and Indian accents.
* A cab driver who seems to have Tourrettes and kept jerking his head to one side every 30 seconds while driving.
* Roman soldiers, Renaissance ladies and SS officers roaming along Ben Yehuda...and then singing Chanukah songs.
* A giant Pokemon figure dancing in the central bus station with a giant teddy bear.

Other updates: Sam and Jake have returned to the States. I went to Eli and Miryam's Chanukah party in Tel Aviv, where half the people seemed to be from our Chicago chevra. I held a newborn (as in, less than 48 hours old). I made 70 sufganiyot, and am currently in the process of making another batch. I don't have to work in the kitchen again until Tuesday.

And today is Allan's 25th birthday. Happy birthday, Allan!!!!

Nes Gadol Haya Po

Nun, gimmel, hey, shin...the letters on the dreidel in America. They stand for nes gadol haya sham ("A great miracle happened there"), and they also tell you how many pieces of gelt you've won or lost when actually playing a game of dreidel.

The coolest thing about being in Israel for Chanukah (other than making sufganiot from scratch in class last week) is realizing that I'm "there". Dreidels in the HL don't have the letter shin, they have the letter pey, which stands for the word po. "Here". A great miracle happened here.

While I'm really sad about not being with my family for Chanukah, I find it thrilling to be "here". That said, this will be the first Chanukah of my life where I won't be lighting the chanukiah with my parents and brother. I'll have to sing our songs to myself. And this year I'm using a different chanukiah. Liz's parents gave me a beautiful chanukiah that had belonged to Liz, and I brought it with me so that she could be with me when I light them. It's something else that makes this Chanukah so different from the ones before.

It would be very easy to be a bit down about being so far away, between missing my family and missing Liz. Somehow, though, the change from sham to po is making the entire difference. It reminds me how special Israel is, and how lucky I am to be here for this year. Nes gadol haya po...

All Clear

The pinkeye is gone. Both my eyes are back to normal, and I don't have to put any more drops or goopy medicinal creams in my eyes.

Quick update on the life of me: I was in Tel Aviv for two days hanging out with Jake and Sam, who are visiting the HL for a week or so. Life on the kibbutz continues to be crazy. Twelve people have now left the program. It really is like a game of Ulpan Survivor, except that instead of a million dollars the winner gets a working knowledge of Hebrew and the satisfaction that they somehow managed to make it through this maze of insanity. Like Camelot, tis a silly place here.

Pinkeye and the Brain

My left eye is almost all better now. Instead of being red and goopy, it's now just a light pink and tears up a lot. I guess that eye got a bit lonely, though, because it decided to give the infection to my right eye as well. So I'll need to go back to the clinic today and get more medicine.

At least I have a warm, caring person to look after me- our madricha/aym bait (house mommy-type person) cares more that I haven't been able to work in the kitchen for almost a week than that both of my eyes are now infected. I didn't feel like explaining to her that pinkeye normally takes a week to clear up. I just nodded and said I'd go back to the clinic later today. Really, though, I'm touched by her concern. It makes me want to poke her in the eyes and find out how much she enjoys having pinkeye.

I Feel Like A Leper

To complete the impression that this is summer camp, I've somehow managed to contract pinkeye. Never in all of my years as an actual camper did I end up with pinkeye, but that lucky streak is over.

For those who haven't experienced the joy of pinkeye, I can tell them that they're really missing out on a great time. First there's the pale yellowy goop that crusts and tries to seal your eye shut while you sleep. Then there's the constant tearing-up and more yellow goopiness while you're awake. Last, just to complete the experience, there's the highly contagious nature of pinkeye, which means you're not really supposed to touch anyone or anything. People who've had pinkeye nudge their chairs just a bit father away as soon as they see your pink, irritated, watery, yellow goopy eye. I'll probably have to wash off the keyboard with rubbing alcohol as soon as I'm done here. I wash my hands so many times a day that they're becoming dry and in need of lotion.

This is all very annoying, and very lonely-feeling, and no one is permitted to give me a hug. The only upside is that I get a day off from work tomorrow (which means I'll get to sleep in, and have time to work on grad school and fellowship apps).

Chodesh Tov L'Kulam!

And a merry rosh chodesh Kislev to all of you!

Kislev always makes me think of my grandparents, a"h.

In November 1932, in a town in Germany by the name of Fuerthe, my grandfather and grandmother went for a walk in the afternoon. At one point in the conversation, my grandfather turned to my grandmother and asked, "Fraulein Strauss, what Jewish month is it?" She replied, "It's Kislev, I think." He then responded, "Then here is kiss, and here is lev (heart). Will you marry me?"

And she said yes.

One Visa Down...

Can someone explain to me how it's already December?

Time flies by so incredibly quickly here. I think the fact that it's still 70 degrees and sunny may have something to do with the fact that I still think it's September. I've been here three months now. I can speak in Hebrew in the past, present and future tenses. I can even give a few commands. I'm learning enough vocab that I'm almost able to express myself and develop a personality in Hebrew. And the ulpan is now half over.

Sometimes I feel like all of this is just a dream. I have these bizarre moments of cognizance, almost as though I'm looking at my life here through a microscope or as though it were a TV show. This is not real life. This is a bubble outside the normal realm of existance. I wonder what I'll think and what I'll feel when I leave the ulpan, or when I return to America. How will I remember all of this in retrospect?

At the same time, so much of my life in America seems like it was a dream. Life here is so different that it makes my life there seem almost surreal. The challenges I faced there are not the ones I face here. When I go back to America, will I think of my life here as somewhat surreal?