Thursday, August 30, 2007

Episode 08: "The Golan" (+)

Last Friday kicked off yet another action packed weekend. This time we hit the Golan, a region in northern Israel that was of course abundant with history and unrelentingly gorgeous. After a 6 a.m. wake-up and three-hour drive, we hit the ground running with a mountain hike. The scenery was fantastic: blue sky, trees, rocks, water, cacti. Plus I was in good company. I spent a good amount of the hike with my friends Nati, Nicolas (NEE-kol-AH) and Martin, and getting to know other people, too. After a little while we came upon our first waterfall and ate nearby the pool of water. We weren't allowed to go too deep in, Hebrew U rules. Sure was pretty, though.



My Canadian pal Nicolas versus the Golan sun.
Close call. That hat is gangsta.

Later on in our walk, we came upon another fall with another natural pool around it. That one was actually shallow enough to go into, so I took a dip. At one point Nicolas and I sat directly under the waterfall. Just before climbing the mossy rocks to sit under the water, Nicolas pointed out a small rainbow the water was making. It may be possible that Israel will never max out its "picture perfect" points. I find more and more beauty in it as I go.


A Golan waterfall,
looking much sexier than Martin and I.

The walk was pretty challenging overall. Lots of sweat and water swigging. At the end of it there was a perfectly placed ice cream shop by the buses. Nicolas, Martin and I treated each other to ice cream (which is "glida" in Hebrew, as I know you were wondering). Before going home, we drove out toward a military outpost. On the way, our tour guide told us a little bit about the road we were traveling on. We were on the easternmost road of Israel, skimming the border to Syria. In 1967 this place was a battlefield for the Six-Day War, which eventually saw Israel take the Golan from Syria. Since then, Israel has laid some provisions down--such as the piles of rocks set to explode from dynamite blasts and litter the roads in case Syrian tanks ever decide to get bold. Very cuddly.

We made it to the military outpost. You could see Syria from the top of it--which I believe is the highest point in Israel. The view was incredible, but for intelligence purposes, cameras weren't allowed there. But I'll paint you a picture with this hippie tidbit: It's absolutely ridiculous that anyone could ruin a landscape so gorgeous for war. It'd be like trading heaven for hot dogs. Burnt, war-torn hot dogs.

With mustard.

Anyway. We went to our hostel, roomed up, and had a Shabbat service before dinner (again, there was that incredible love for God in the room...as convincing as any church back home). The hostel was pretty fly, and the view of the Golan on the veranda was...how many synonyms are there for beautiful? While I was on the veranda, I asked Guy--the nice tour guide--about details regarding the war with Lebanon last year. He told me that everything I was looking at had been bombed by the Lebanese in 2006. It was then that the baggage of the place began to really weigh down on me. The Israeli soldiers that were kidnapped by the Lebanese were never freed, hundreds were killed altogether, the political landscape didn't change, etc., and happily ever after. There's a point at which you remember this should not be normal.

Skip forward a little. I ate dinner, played some Madrich (counselor) inspired games, and went to bed. The next morning I went with the first group on a bike ride, which was pretty difficult. More sun, more sweat, a couple times when I had to actually walk the bike. Pretty sad.


Nicolas vs. the Golan Sun, Round 2.
That helmet doesn't have the same "G" factor.

Let me hurry this up. Ping pong. A hike to Tel Hai, where we took in more local history, courtesy of Guy. Went to the pool, which was another ridiculous odyssey in more sun. The water was incredibly refreshing. The Rothberg School kids (that's my group) mostly stayed together, playing around in the water with chicken fights and underwater handstands, stuff like that. The pool was where the party was at.


Corina, Nicolas, Nati, and Yours Truly.
They call it "poolside pimpin'" in Israel.
Kinda. Not really.

Last big event I guess was the photography museum, which had amazing 3-D pictures of the Garden of Gethsemane, Abraham's tomb, the tombs of the prophets, Nazareth, and more, all from the 1800s, I believe. Too bad I was wearing the glasses inside out for the first twenty minutes. Making the last five minutes that much cooler once I figured it out.


You look really 3-D with these glasses.

Topped off the afternoon with a talking exercise about man's superiority versus nature's superiority according to Jewish scripture, which was interesting. It required a mini-version of public speaking on my part, which was it's own clunky adventure. After that we ate food, packed up, and left.

Whew. If you've read this far, you're a trooper. Here's a goofy picture of me, just for working that hard. My self-portraits are kind of hit-or-miss.


Shalom,
Eric

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Episode 07: "The Introduction, Pt. 2" (+)


So that's me, post-naked.

This is me at Shabbat dinner, taking a picture of you.
Smile.

The rest of that weekend is so huge that it's all blurring together. At sundown, we had our Shabbat service. The men were separated from the women and a guy or two at a time would lead prayer, all in Hebrew. Since I had no idea what anyone was saying, I used the time to pray privately. As the service continued, we turned as a group to face different directions, although I was unfamiliar with what was behind this part of the ritual. The prayers were sung, really, some sounding solemn, others more celebratory. At certain points we danced in a circle some more. (One of my friends arrived at the meeting extremely drunk already, kind of disrupting the service and the first to start dancing when it came time.) My friend Nicky clued me into some of the meanings of the prayers we said, which he gets plenty of cool points for. I really appreciated it. The Shabbat felt like my first honest, intimate introduction to Jewish celebration and culture.

It was an exciting, foreign and awe-inspiring kickoff to Shabbat. I think somewhere in the mix of prayer I gave some thought to my faith versus Judaism. I know I'm about to get into potentially offensive waters here, but stay with me.

Hearing the people around me praying in Hebrew with such dedication and reverence pushed me into a state of humility I hadn't fully known before. Up until that point, I've tried my best to be accepting and respectful of other religions, but I think I have more of a reason to, now. Because as the weekend unfolded, starting with this one, long ritual, I realized that the people I was with loved God just as much as I did. Typing it out, it sounds too obvious and probably a little arrogant. My first instinct is to say, "Of course I knew that." But the scarier truth might be that I actually didn't. What's more, I'd never experienced true inundation with another religion before, even if this one was brief. And in a way I think I'd been in a sorry state of Ignorant beforehand.

I'm not sure if I'm articulating this too well. Put on your Christian caps with me for a second. You grow up being told, "Christ is Lord," "Christ is Lord." It becomes status quo. Despite the illogic of it, the evidence against it, the other faiths that are just as vibrant and urgent with a need to know God, Christ is Lord. Meaning: how can "they" [Jews, Muslims, whatever] turn their backs on God?

But during that service...no one was. I think we were literally turning in circles to face him.

Be patient with me--it's 11:17 and I'm beyond tired. I know everything I've said, you could have put together from just knowing what "politically correct" means. But I think something bigger than "politically correct" is happening, here. A Jewish girl named Jody expressed her confusion to me about Christians having three Gods (the Holy Trinity). That is a pretty silly idea, no? A Jewish girl named Suzy said to me that Biblical prophecy marks the Messiah as a descendant of David (one of the gospels says he's not). Screw the details, even. Every time there was a meal (and each one was a Jewish event), I could see how much love there was in the room for God, at the very least from the Orthodox guys. Meaning my point of reference in growing up Christian, that other religions have somehow fallen short of loving God, may need a touch-up.

I still believe that Jesus represents the highest ethics God has to offer. I still believe that he is an incarnation of God and a symbol of mankind's restoration. I believe, and feel, that Jesus has brought me closer to God. But something is changing--in a way I can see now is beyond my particular skill for words. All of my ranting above, I know, is common knowledge--but somehow it feels fresh to me.

This was going to be an entry much more preoccupied with chronicling events. I haven't told you about how much I hope to emulate Nicky's warm and welcoming demeanor during Shabbat. I haven't told you about my talk with the ex-Mormon/new Jew, who hates the fact that Christians say they have faith while the Jews have works. He said that Jews have faith too--something I believe has been resting in my intellectual blind spot for years. I haven't told you about my first substantial taste of wine, the tour of Tzfat and its synagogues, the ride home talking to my friend Danny about other messiahs some orthodox sects recognize. I've probably spoken too soon about my thoughts and too little about my experiences.

Thanks for reading, anyway.

Shalom,
Eric


Monday, August 20, 2007

Episode 06: "The Introduction, Pt. 1" (+)

It's been a little while, but not because I've been lazy. This past weekend was one of the most engaging and exhausting excursions I've had so far. I went to Tzfat, a city in northern Israel proclaimed as the center of Jewish Mysticism. One of my friends described Jewish Mysticism thusly: Judaism is about finding out what God wants from you; Jewish Mysticism is about finding out what "God" is. I didn't end up being exposed to Jewish Mysticism as much as I was to orthodox Jewish ritual this weekend, but regardless, there was a lot to take in. Brace yourselves for tons of text...there's only so much a picture is worth. But here's one anyway.



A picture that does Tzfat no justice whatsoever.
Think five times more beautiful than this.

The bus ride there was about three hours long. I was awake to see more of Israel than I'd ever seen before. There was straight up desert for a while, which gave way to the Sea of Galilee in the latter half of the trip. Seeing it was an awkward experience. (Shortly before I left for Israel, my friend Lily and I had a talk about taking the miracles of the Bible literally. "If you were there with a video camera..." she said, did I believe I'd have the opportunity to actually record the Red Sea parting?) I was finally seeing the place where Jesus walked on water...only to wonder whether it really happened. It's strange--reading about Jesus' miracles as remote and ancient things had actually mythologized them to the point of fantasy when the Sea of Galilee was right in front of me. I might come back to this topic sometime...it was weird to digest.

Anyway, onto the main event. I guess the camera addiction I mentioned last entry was taken care of for me this trip, because every day there was a new reason I didn't use it. Picture Deficit Reason #1: limited battery rationing. Therefore I've got zero pictures of the cozy, cute and amusing "Safed Candles," which was a candle shop we visited shortly after arriving at the hotel. There were normal candles there, and then there were the colorful wax tapestries and sculptures that you would buy but never burn. For instance: a candle wax scene of Joseph confronting his brothers, or a waxy Noah's ark overstuffed with animals, or a waxed up Sampson pushing down stone pillars. It was a sweet little store.

We went back to the hotel, did the barbecue thing, and danced to live music played by Orthodox Jewish guys. I think it was the first time I danced in a circle Jewish style, but it was a lot of fun. Later that night, I went out with Corina and a group of new friends on a walk. We found a roof of what I thought was an abandoned building and sat under the stars talking (the Big Dipper was huge). Turned out the building was someone's home--so we bolted and hung out elsewhere before heading home.

The next morning we went rafting on the Jordan River. Picture Deficit Reason #2: Camera ain't waterproof. I paired up with Gaby, my study partner, in a two-person inflatable raft. I took the steering position, which meant we went backwards a lot. Gaby kept wanting to get out and explore, which actually turned out really well. We ended up seeing an incredible, expansive view of farmland, trees and mountains in the background, and we briefly talked to an Israeli woman camping by the river.

The rafting took such a long time that we were late to our appointment with the Golan Heights Winery. So we were only there for fifteen minutes, but since it was one of the only places I got pictures of, here ya go:


This is me at the winery. On a catapult.
Yet mysteriously not drunk.

Where they turn grapes into gold.



Me with Nicky, the MVP of the weekend.
More on him soon.


After finishing up at the winery and checking out a brewery (it was a very alcohol-oriented weekend), we returned to the hotel. Only a few minutes after settling down, the guys of the group were invited to a Mikvah, a pool used in Jewish Orthodox communities for ritual cleansing. The catch: I had to get naked.


And so did all these guys.
It was an exercise in calculated eye movement.



The entrance to the Mikvah from on high.



The countdown to naked.

There was a line inside. I waited until I was at the front of it to take off my towel. The discomfort of the situation was manageable, but there was an added strain from the fact that Shabbat, the day of rest, was coming in a couple hours--meaning a lot of Orthodox Jews waiting their turn were racing sundown. So I was naked and there was some guy telling me to hurry up, stripping the magic of the experience down to the few seconds I was underwater. That said, the water did feel refreshing, and holding my breath underneath gave me a peaceful handful of moments.

All right, I'm cutting this one short for now. I'll follow up soon.

To be continued.

Shalom,
Eric

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Episode 05: "The Dead Sea" (+)

This past Friday I went on a tour of Mount Masada, which was yet another breathtaking experience, although in a different way. If the old city tour was a Stephen Spielberg film, this was more of a Michael Bay blockbuster. While the old city had class, soul and a kind of regal richness to it, Mount Masada was definitely more on the eye candy side. The trip's big selling point in the first place was to to see the sun rise over the Dead Sea from the mountaintop view, so you can imagine how much time I spent behind my camera. ("Too much time" is the answer. The camera problem coupled with how tired I was rendered me numb to a lot of the history stuff...again. I just might be allergic to learning off campus, who knows. The tiredness I had an excuse for, though. Check it:)

Our meeting time was 1:45 a.m. Friday morning, in front of the Student Village dorms. The bus driver was about an hour late, because he'd fallen asleep before he came. So by the time the guy dropped us of, we were behind schedule. I could see dawn approaching as we hustled up the mountain, but the sun hadn't peeked over the Jordan mountains just yet. We ended up making good time and even chilling out a little as the nighttime slipped away. Finally, the sun rose over the Dead Sea, a perfect orange circle that was climbing, live in front of me, higher and higher above the clouds.




Mount Masada was its own marvel. Apparently (I probably learned this history by accident), Masada was King Herod's stronghold. Same Herod who tried to kill baby Jesus, according to the gospels. The stronghold, at some point or other, was used by Jews trying to defend themselves from approaching Roman soldiers. A group of them, rather than having their wives raped and children sold as slaves, or being killed on Roman terms, decided to commit suicide together. I'm definitely scrambling and botching the intricate history of the place, but long story short: Masada has baggage, more than I can remember. You wouldn't believe it, given how beautiful the place is.

We checked out a lot more of Masada. The ruins were pretty cool--some of them preserved enough to inspire your historical imagination, some of them turned into bathrooms for tourists. Not to knock the bathrooms. I used one. It was well placed.



Closing in on 24 hours of being awake wasn't so cool. I don't know how Jack Bauer does it. I had energy reserves, but my mind was in a bit of a lazy haze when it came to absorbing everything my tour guide said. My tour guide, by the way, was Guy again. I guess he's a regular with Hebrew U for as long as these kinds of trips last. He asked me to read stuff in front of the group again, which was fun...minus the content. I think the passage at the end was from Ezekiel, a lamenting prophecy about big time death, which may or may not apply to what happened on Masada, depending on your beliefs. Don't quote me on any of this, though. For now I think I can be diagnosed as "historically retarded."

Don't worry, I was smiling before I read the passage.
I like my Jews alive and non-massacred.

Anyway, we saw more incredible views from the top of the mountain before climbing down its endlessly long snake trail. I was blown away by every bit of it.



We walked from here, where I took the picture,
to that building in the distance. The hike down, of course, was a breeze.

At the end of the tour, we had the chance to go swimming in the Dead Sea. The water was...I guess the picture can hint at it, but it's some of the most beautiful water I've ever seen. Only 2% of you will know what I'm talking about, but the song "Take a Picture" by Filter was playing in my head as I looked at it. (Yeah, Nick, it was like that.) The Dead Sea water was so thick with salt that you could lie on your back and float in it, without having to tread at all. It's a piece of paradise. The water stings your eyes crazier than ocean salt water does, but if you manage to keep your head afloat, it's heaven-sent.


It's becoming more obvious that I am blessed to have laid eyes on this place.

Shalom,
Eric

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Episode 04: "The Relics" (+)

I guess last weekend was the start of the big-time adventures here. A bunch of us went out to tour Old City Jerusalem, which was a fantastic way to start off the major outings. Unfortunately, I have next to zero knowledge of old school Jerusalem's history, so I went widely unprepared. We did have a tour guide named Guy to take care of that, but he would say things like, "This is rumored to be the place where Jesus had his last supper," and needless to say I was caught completely off guard. He talked about David's strategy in claiming Jerusalem, cultural nuances that jump-started its architecture, and a bunch more I was completely in the dark on. I don't even have the Jerusalem stuff in the Old Testament covered in full. Plus, even with Guy as a bit of a library, I wasn't paying close enough attention, so most of my trip that day was about how beautiful everything was, rather than its historical significance. I'm regretting that a little.


This is Guy, my tour guide.

Anyway, Guy's as nice as he looks. Really funny, probably brilliant with history in that head of his. When our tour first started, he asked our group who wanted to read from the Bible. I was standing right next to him, but I assumed he meant in Hebrew, so I said, "Ooooh, I would if I could." Guy told me I was his pick, and he told me to read a section of the Bible with drama in my voice. I was too embarrassed to read it emotionally, but I did my best to make it regal. Throughout the rest of the day, whenever he needed someone to read a Bible quote, he picked me to do it. The rest of the time, we checked out rooftops, passageways and slick views of the city's ancient sprawl. Even though I didn't absorb the history, it was still great to see.


Want to know the significance of this
particular menorah? Look it up, 'cause I got nothin'.


These structures are probably really important.


The answers to life's questions could be down there.
I wouldn't know.


Guess I did have some knowledge about this part--
the wall dividing the territories at the top of
this hill. Israel built it. Hilarity ensued.

I had a great time talking with people as the tour went on. I got to chat with students named Orin, Paul, Matt, Sarah, the second guy I've met here named Eric (I call him Eric III now), and others. The social stuff was a top contender for "highlight of the trip," among having a close rooftop view of the Dome of the Rock (I think my camera battery died by then) and seeing the Western Wall (my battery was definitely done by then, otherwise I'd have pictures of it).

Being at the Western Wall, or the Wailing Wall/Kotel, was amazing. Men had to enter one side, women another. All around me, people were standing close, orthodox guys reciting from prayer books, others whispering their needs. I had my own prayer written on a slip of paper, and I whispered it out loud before sticking it into the wall. Afterwards I checked out a part of the Wall that was almost enclosed from the outside. Hundreds of orthodox Jews were inside, some grouped together for prayer, some not. I sat inside for a minute, praying myself. It was all pretty breathtaking.

There was more that weekend, but maybe I'll touch on it later. The Western Wall was kind of a finale to the most important stuff, and I'm glad I went. It's incredible there. I'll try to get pictures for you next time I go, but if not, just try to remember: Jewish holy site. Hundreds of prayers uttered simultaneously. Wishes tucked in the cracks of rocks aged millenniums.

Gold, my friends.

Shalom,
Eric

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Episode 03: "The Accent" (+)

So the reason I left for school so early is because I have to take about two months of "Ulpan", the class responsible for teaching me Hebrew. Class started on Thursday of last week. I'm in Aleph 2, basically the lowest level of Hebrew you can start with, and about 13 people are in my class. We're taught by two wonderfully kind, helpful teachers, Nomi and Tami.


This is kind of an unfair picture of Nomi.
She's usually smiling and not affected by a camera
flash going off in her face.



This is Tami. She's always smiling, too.


Class has actually been going all right. Nomi and Tami are more than capable teachers. They're ridiculously patient (I've thrown my fair share of stupid questions at them), funny and encouraging. I feel pretty safe learning from them. So far I've had one quiz, which I did well on, so they must be doing something right. But I just had a big test today; let's see if my warm feelings for them last once I get that one back. (Something I think I'll always remember: I struggled to say to Tami in Hebrew, "I fly to Bermuda." She said she wanted to go there too, and I told her that sometime she and I could take a trip there together. Without missing a beat, she said, "Behave yourself." The class cracked up.)

The alphabet hasn't been too difficult learn, even though I have to periodically review it to keep myself afloat. Reading from right to left hasn't been too bad, either. We're always learning new vocabulary and playing games with what words we know. The classmates I'm learning with are awesome. Everyone brings their own smarts and/or personality to the table, and I've had a great time getting to know them in class.


Right to left, Hebrew style: Areej from Jerusalem, Valker from Germany, Ju Il from Korea, Brett from Louisiana, and my man Gaby from Cali.



Right to left again: I forget where Suzanne's from, but she's a cool chick. Lyndsey in the green, she helped me out a lot when class first started. And Hannah from Poland's a sweet girl; she helped me with my laundry when (surprise) I couldn't read the directions in Hebrew.



Right to left: Dei Wan (I'm botching the spelling) and Becca, Ms. Sass. She's helped me in class, too, and she's hilarious to talk to. Cool girl.

Steph and Nancy are missing from these photos. Steph is super nice to me, always a great gal to chill with. And Nancy's friendly too; she's from around here and checked out the rules for me getting into the Dome of the Rock...a fine gesture from a sweet lady. I think she's leaving us soon, though, which is a bummer.

Anyway, we've learned to read, conjugate, ask questions. It's been a challenging ride. I've been able to keep up thanks in part to just reviewing after class, and thanks also to this guy:


Gaby, the Stanford Man.

He and I have studied together almost every night for a week now, and so far it's been paying off. We remind each other of what we should know while getting homework done. It's been great having him as a study partner.

All in all, I'm adjusting okay to Hebrew. I'm no genius learning it, but I think I have a solid grasp on what I've been taught so far. It's weird being in a country where you have the accent, you know? All I have the bravery to say is "hello" and "thank you" to people in public, I can't read the names of the groceries I buy, and I'm only just able to form 3-word sentences. But a couple people I've talked to recently brought something interesting up: Just last week I didn't know a thing about Hebrew. Now I'm taking tests in Hebrew and recognizing it more around me. Pretty cool. We'll see how the next few weeks go. I know myself and, if I'm really going to gain some ground with this language, I'm going to have to work harder than I'll want to. Wish me luck.

So much more to tell you guys about. I'll try to keep the entries coming.

Shalom,
Eric

Monday, August 6, 2007

Episode 02: "The Ground Rules"

Shalom from Israel!

I gotta say, it’s been a wonderful first week, and I can’t wait for what’s around the corner. This is probably going to be a lengthy entry, since I haven’t written in such a long time, but feel free to just skim the pictures for Cliff Notes. Again, to whoever’s reading this, thank you so much for your support regarding my year abroad. I appreciate the love, and this blog is about me sending some back at you. Before I get started on the “diary” stuff, here are some of the expectations you can have about this site:

1) I’ll be updating at least once a week. I know a year away is a long time, and I’m going to try to make it feel like you’re here with me by regular posts. Someone send me an angry e-mail if I don’t stick to that promise.

2) I know a lot of you have been worried about how dangerous the area is here. So just to make things worry-friendly, I’ve decided to make a key to signify my state of personal safety at the top of every entry:

(+) “Still alive”
( - ) “Not so much”

I’ll try to keep it up to date.

2.5) (If expectation #2 made you bristle a little bit, that’s just me trying to keep things lighthearted. Please don’t lose any sleep over me being here. I promise, I will be smart about my surroundings, and I will come home safe to see you again.)

3) Look out for pictures. I’ll try to get in the habit of taking snapshots of my activities, friends and environment and posting some on the blog every once in a while. Here's one of a view from main campus:


4) Any comments you make will be read, although to comment you might have to have a g-mail account. Not sure. Anyway, I’m trying to do better at keeping in touch with people, so if you leave a comment with a direct question, be patient with me and sooner or later I WILL get back to you.

5) There may be times when I end up sharing personal thoughts instead of “experiences”, but I expect both will be the meat of these entries. But if there are subject matters you’re curious about that are lacking in these particular blogs, write to me and I can reply about other aspects of my time here.

My expectations of you:

1) Enjoy.

So, first thing’s first: Thought I’d explain the title of this blog. I guess it came to me some time after realizing that being here means no wreaths, no lights, no day off from school come Christmas Day. Christmas is my favorite holiday, and the fact that’s it’s not a holiday at all in Jerusalem is a huge testament to exactly how far out of my element I’ve stepped. But in the spirit of broadening my horizons, I want to fully immerse myself in the culture and flavor of the country, especially if that means recognizing the differences between here and home. Exhibit A: Santa got “served” when it came to recognizing Christmastime in Israel. Exhibits B-Z coming soon. For now I'm just getting situated with how Jewish history and pride have completely inundated the place.



Tour guide and menorah. I'll explain later.

All right—I guess I still haven’t really gotten started, so here goes. Just before the flight I met up with other Hebrew University kids, and all of us talked while we waited for the plane. Two of them were Aisling (pronounced “Ashlene”) and Brian (pronounced “Brian”). I didn’t sleep at all on the plane. Instead I watched 2.75 movies out of the 5 they played on repeat, including Premonition, which was awful. Don’t see it. But before we even took off I was asked to change seats twice for families who wanted to sit together, and the flight attendants were so thankful about me doing it that they were SUPER nice to me on the plane—checking in with me periodically, giving me extra snacks, and ultimately giving me a bottle of wine and some chocolate as a gift for being gracious about the seat changes. Great way to start off the trip.

The bottle of wine the crew gave me. Skippy not included.

At the airport near Tel Aviv, Brian and I met up after the flight and tried to figure out what was going on. We eventually got to a parking lot where everyone loaded their bags. I saw one girl named Roni around then, although I didn’t know her name at the time. She seemed cool enough, though. On the bus traveling to Jerusalem, I sat next to Corina, who actually happened to know about an NYC church I’d visited during freshman year.

Anyway—moral of the story, I ended up being roommates with all the people I’ve mentioned. Randomly, the madrichim (the helper out guys) asked us to round up roommate groups in sets of five. So Aisling, Brian, Roni, Corina and I found each other and registered for a place to stay. Now we have a headquarters, and I consider myself fortunate to have such an awesome flat with cool people.


A typical high rise of the "Student Village".


The room.


The roomies (from left to right), Brian, Aisling and Corina...


..and Roni.

All this and not a lick of “Jerusalem life” yet, I know. I will update you on that in more detail down the line, but this entry’s beefy as it is, and the lengthy text and heaps of pictures take a long time to post. More to come on all the good stuff, you have my word.

And to everyone who's already commented or sent messages/e-mails/Facebook posts, thank you so much. All the love in the world right back.

Shalom,
Eric

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Episode 01: "The Arrival"

Hey guys! I am so glad I'm able to post--I've had no internet for the last two days and I'm currently in a place that gets wireless. So I'm going to make this one short and sweet, since I have limited battery and I'm waiting for my name to be called (logistical stuff with registration, blah).

So, the basics: I arrived safe and sound. Getting to campus wasn't too bad. We loaded our bags onto the bus and drove from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. It was about a twenty minute trip. On the bus I met up with a cool chick named Corina--she happens to be Christian, so we had a smidgen of Jesus talk. Funny thing, she ended up being my roommate, although not entirely by chance. The "Madrich" guys--kind of like orientation crew people--asked us to randomly find our own roommates, and Corina was around when I was trying to find people to fill out my suite. I'm now living with four other Americans in a pretty sweet room. I'll show you pictures later.

I'm gonna cut this short, because I want to do this whole "documentation" thing justice, but I promise I will follow up with more details and lots of pictures. There's tons of observations I want to tell you about, even though it's only been a couple of days. I'll also outline what you can expect from this blog down the line. I'll even explain the title of this ridiculous thing. For now, though, I'm signing off. But I just wanted to let you know, I'm safe, I'm secure, and I'm in FRICKIN' Israel. It's all good.

Thanks for your support, everyone. Much love.

-Eric