אין לנו ארץ אחרת

Tormented from the inside, with every step I take, a new phase is about to rise out of the dust of my learnings and my time. Yesterday, we got back from the Kotel. My roommates went to the pool, but I wanted to tie loose ends, clean up, and continue packing. It felt like no time, and they were back, and my mission wasn't so accomplished. I kept at it, packing and organizing and reminiscing and all, and I guess the length of my last blog is a testament to my eagerness to pack. But, once that was semi-accomplished, I took a shower, dried my hair, and this was the beginning of the end of EIE; getting ready for our final banquette.

Yeah, surprise, surprise, I made my way into a gorgeous dress my aunt and uncle bought me in December. Despite everybody being dressed-up, I got particular notice for having a pretty gorgeous dress... not to mention even still, I am not known as the girly-girl, but rather a tom-boy, or at least someone who is prepared at all times to run, climb trees or fences when exploring, as well as play a sport on the shortest of notices. My point to be made by this is however, is during our dinner and walk to final banquette performances (funny skits and thank you's to the staff), I realized as random people pointed at my dress, I have been living with them for four months and haven' said a word to them! I guess this shouldn't be surprising because we spend all our time with our group, and on top of that have 120 kids, but it struck me odd at the last day on EIE, I was grasping the fact that sometimes, despite your hopes, you just can't get to know everybody.

Dinner was incredible, and the skits where absolutely hysterical. The thank you's were very sweet and meaningful as well. Then, as the teachers had to leave, I remember walking up to BG, my Jewish History teacher, and once I hugged him I began to cry. I couldn't begin to thank him because I was so upset. I guess it's because BG was the best teacher I have every had, but also, unlike other teachers, he was very concerned and cared so much about his students. And with the constant tiyulim and trips, he was just another part of the clan. I learned so much from him, and respect him greatly. While older brother-like, a father figure, a leader, and role model don't begin to explain his role in mine, and my classmates', lives, he was all of that and more. I guess saying goodbye to him was one of the many, many times I cried throughout these last few days, but I wanted to outwardly express my appreciation and love for BG as my teacher, even though my personal thank you was drowned out with my sorrow and pain for having to leave him, my home, and my new family. I look forward to return to Israel and meet up with him again; hopefully we'll have a few more inciting debates on our history, culture, and religion which, with him, never prove dull.

After, the goodbye's and thank you's, and after the skits and the final banquette came to an end, we all changed into more comfortable clothing and headed down to the after party. We had a talent show which was incredible, so many of us have amazing skills in acting, singing, guitar and piano, I never knew about. Once that was over, and the slideshow was presented, loud music started blasting from the speakers, and our dance party had begun. I stayed there right up until the end of the music, while most people had left. 4am, this morning, the music ended and the after-party was now over, but with no curfew, I set out with Martine to have some bonding time before we left. I also really wanted to walk around my home and see it one last time before we went on our ways out to the diaspora. Really nice, like usual, Martine and I just talked about this and that, and before we knew it, only an hour had passed by and the sky was turning to a subtle pink and lighter shades of dark blue. We eventually walked to the garden and ran into two of our counselors and a bunch of our group looking to do what we set our there for: watch the sunrise. While we wouldn't have minded watching it with them, like our usual selves we strayed a bit, and ended up going to the horse stable to say bye to the horse. She was penned up, so we continued to walk around the stables to the end of the bike path. Here, there are ramps and hills, and where the jutting out piece of land is at its hight looking over the Judean Hills, the sun rising was mixed in with the captivating panorama. We climbed up the last steep biking incline, so we had a perfect, unobstructed, view of the sunrise. Can't tell you why, but after standing there for ten minutes, we finally saw the sun peak its rays from behind, and the song just came to me. The entire rising of the sun was accompanied by me and Martine singing and humming אלי, אלי by Chana Senesh (a grave that I had visited a day before).

As the most beautiful thing I see comes at the same time the most tragic thing occurs, I looked to the sky, knowing, that all I wanted was for time to freeze and be like that beauty I was witnessing forever. With the new-arisen hot Israeli sun, suspended up in the sky by the receding stars and the grinning crescent moon, with the treetops scattered like patches of a quilt adding texture an in depth and colour, the fields of various greens needing to be harvested with the previous days of Shavuot. With this and more, unexplainable to say the least, I witnessed sheer greatness. This is what I experienced in the early morning of today, and the words of Chana Senesh flowed to my lips because, here, was the emotions that flooded me and overwhelmed me:

אלי, אלי

My Lord, My Gd

אלי, אלי

I pray that these things never end,

שלא יגמר לעולם

The sand and the sea,

החול והים

The rush of the waters,

רישרוש של המים

The crash of the heavens,

ברק השמים

The meditations of my heart.

תפילת האדם

After the rising of our sun, Martine and I went back to our rooms, where I finished packing. That morning and night, I had fun laughing, crying, dancing, walking, talking, reminiscing, hiking up to the bike path, watching the sun rise, pack, and sit in the airport, and now to my dismay, the plane. I can't believe it. I checked my luggage at the front, and brought all the emotional baggage that weighed ten times more through security on the plane with me. Before I entered security, I hugged Yoav and Gali, and I told them I'd come and visit them soon. I'll definitely be back. I said bye to Inbaloosh (Inbal) before boarding the busses to go because she stayed back with the kids for the second flight. Boarding the busses to go to the first flight was, it was just beyond words. The amount of crying and hugging and sadness, I don't like goodbyes, and while I might say them often, I really mean see you later. Here, it was terrible, because we became like family and now we are to be scattered across the 50 Sates and the 5 Provinces of Canada. It was like part of you was left behind in Tzuba and in our friends, irreplaceable, knowing that some of these kids you might not see for years or even ever, as life does go on. It's incredible, but with these four simple months, that for kids at home was just an agonizing semester at school, like years past, for us, it was life altering. Completely life altering.

As this morning before breakfast played out, with our last group meeting, we all got a flag of Israel that written on it said, "אין לי ארץ אחרת" and I couldn't have believed it to hold any more validity for it is so correct that, "I have no other land." To imagine how much I have grown. I would of thought this was a foolish statement said by zionist fanatics or the pious orthodox who still believe they are in complete exile. But today, I see that through out history, and through out time, he have had countries to build our houses on and raise our families, and teach our values, but nothing, nothing will ever compare to owning your own land, not by paper, but by the word of Gd, and the settlements by physically working the land, and even just simply because it was our fathers' and mothers' land where our holiest stories took place. To this statement I hold true: "אין לי ארץ אחרת", and with these words, I will end my last blog in Israel with two things Yoav found and read to us:

Wear Sunscreen,
If I could offer only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at the photos and recall how fabulous you really looked at the time. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing gum. Real troubles are apt to blind-side you at 4 p.m. on an idle Tuesday.

Do one thing daily that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Remember compliments, forget insults.

Keep old love letters. Throw away old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't know what they want to do with theirs.

Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself or berate yourself too much. Your choices are half chance, like everybody else's.

Dance.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone.

Be nice to your siblings. They're the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Travel.

Accept these certain truths:
Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And then you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen

________________________________________

Is Israel really that bad? ~ Yair Lapid

If the state of education is so bad here, academia is in a freefall, and the brain-drain is in full force, how do you explain the fact that our high-tech sector is so successful, that the number of scientific publications is the highest in the world per capita (just like the number of patents,) and that we invented the disk-on-key and cell phone text messages?

If we don’t care about anything anymore and have no interest in what’s happening in the country, how do you explain the fact that Rabin Square gets filled up by protestors five times a year, that the evening newscasts are the most watched TV shows, and that most arguments around here are about politics?

If the public lost its faith in the IDF, our mutual responsibility is fading, and the number of draft-dodgers is skyrocketing, how do you explain the fact that all of us are so preoccupied with the fate of our captives, and that the round of recruitment that enlisted to the IDF immediately after the Second Lebanon War broke an all-time record after 70.8% of new recruits asked to join combat units?

If government corruption is everywhere and the law is a joke, how do you explain the fact that the son of a former prime minister is in jail, the former Labor minister was recently convicted over a bribe, and that our prime minister is constantly under investigation?

If our press has became silly like in America, yellow like in England, and irresponsible like in Italy, how do you explain the fact that newspapers last week cast aside all our supermodels to make room for publishing a chapter from David Grossman’s new book?

If the economy is collapsing, the concern for the poor is constantly declining, and the Treasury has been taken over by a gang of neo-conservatives who do whatever they feel like, how do you explain the fact that the number of poor Israelis has declined for the second year in a row, that the Wisconsin Plan appears to be a success story, and that not even one person has died of hunger in the history of our country?

If every ultra-Orthodox family has 10 children and more people are becoming religious, how do you explain the fact that the ultra-Orthodox have remained 8% of the population, exactly as they were when Israel was established?

Life expectancy high, unemployment low

If the Russian immigrants are failing to integrate, prefer to live in their own ghettos, read Russian newspapers, watch Russian television, and shop at their own shops, how do you explain the fact that all of them learned Hebrew, that their children are joining the IDF en masse, that about 80% of them own their apartment (a higher percentage than the general population), and that they show no intention of returning to Moscow?

If our youths are violent and detached, drink too much alcohol, and only care about going to clubs and stabbing each other, how do you explain the fact that close to 250,000 children are members of youth groups, and that tens of thousands choose to embark on a year of social service or join groups that help the needy?

If our immigration police is facing collapse because of the burden, the Agriculture Ministry brings here masses of Thai workers, every elderly Israeli has a Filipino nurse, and thousands of Palestinians come here to work every day, how do you explain the fact that unemployment in the first quarter of the year dropped to 6.5%, a 15-year low?

If our healthcare system is collapsing, our doctors are leaving, and extra health insurance coverage costs a fortune, how do you explain the fact that our per capita national expenditure dedicated to healthcare is only 7.8% of our GDP, roughly half of what it is in the US, and only two thirds of what it is in Germany and France? And how do you explain the fact that life expectancy here is higher than in all the above mentioned countries?

If President Bush is the best friend Israel ever had, Italy’s Berlusconi declares that he is warmly pro-Zionist, France’s Sarkozy decided to include Holocaust studies at every school in the country, Germany’s Angela Merkel ended the support for the Palestinian Authority and visited the Knesset to tell us how much she loves us, and Tony Blair appointed himself as a peace ambassador, how do you explain the fact that we feel like everyone hates us?

If our personal safety is declining, crime is skyrocketing, and we no longer can leave the house for fear that someone will rob us, how do you explain the fact that in a particularly broad national poll 81% of Israelis said that they are satisfied with their neighborhood and 75% said that “they feel safe when they walk alone on the street at night?”

If girls here have bad taste in clothing, every third girl gets a piercing in her belly button, half of them are tattooed like an Irish sailor, and the sweat wipes off their makeup three minutes after they leave the house, how do you explain the fact that every tourist who arrives here immediately declares that Israeli women are the most beautiful in the world?

If we have turned into a bunch of uncultured barbarians who yell on the street, swear, show contempt to academia and the arts, and only watch television, how do you explain the fact that we are number one in the world when it comes to museums per capita, number two in the world when it comes to reading books, that the percentage of Israelis who go to the theater (41%) is double the percentage of those who go to soccer games, and that one of four Israelis attended a classical music performance this year?

If we suffer so much, a plane ticket on sale is only $240, and Canada is happy to let us in, how do you explain the fact that we’re still here?

In to the Future, I'll Go

     My last blog ended yesterday morning at almost 3am. I woke up a few hours later at 10, and got ready for services. Once again, it was a beautiful service. EVERYONE participated, and we each got a strip of paper to read form the Torah as to include everyone. More than that, everyone sung loud and with spirit and meaning. With little sleep, I managed to stay awake the entire thing because of the sheer amazement I felt while feeling a connection to everyone in this room. It was simply, beautiful. Then, like usual, we went to lunch which was surprisingly good, and then I made my way to the pool. I spoke with Luna, a girl form my math class I have always liked but never really got the chance to talk to because we were in different groups. We hung out at the pool together for a few hours and talked about a whole slew of stuff interesting to us. It was super nice.

     After taking a shower, we collectively went to the chadar ochel for dinner, and to wrap up this relaxing and fantastic day we held Havdalah at the tel. We made our way up the tel, so increasingly steep and tall, and I was the first one to climb the roof of a building and than ascend the surrounding walls to make my way to the tallest most frontward point. Here, I watched the sunset with the rest of EIE. I couldn't tell you what a sunset in Jerusalem looks like, because it was so incredible. I never saw a sun set so fast and contain so many colours. What I believe to be so beautiful though, was we were facing Tzuba when watching the sunset. We saw our rooms, our hang out spots, our secret hang out spots no counselors are supposed to know about; we saw the orchards of the kibbutz, and the Arab village right by us; we saw the past four months, and our memories relive themselves by looking at Tzuba from a bird-eye's view; But, still, most beautiful of all, we saw our home and thats when it hit me. I was about to cross an ocean and return to autonomy at my school, and feel like there's no point in anything. Now, I have a goal, and a mission, and it's to get by my days with grace so that way soon enough, I'll come back home.

     Now, following this incredible sunset, and a gorgious havdalah service, I came back form the Tel to finish up some things. Then, our counselors told us to meet in the notorious Belmont for an evening activity. They gave us strips of paper and pencils and they started throwing out topics. We wrote to all our friends and aquaintences in the group to tell them what we like and appreciate about them, and all that jazz. Never have I thought I had made such an impact on people. It was great to recieve some of these papers, but also, it was great to tell everyone I have been menang to tell how much I truly love and appreciate and admire them. Once done with this particular activity, our madrichiem decided it would be a nice scene change and brought us to the parking lot outside our rooms. Here they gave us a full sheet of paper and an envelope. We were to write things to ourselves and they'd be mailed to us in one year. Of course I thought hard about what I wanted to write, but I got it down on paper and sealed the envelope, only to be seen in one year, far form now. You think one scene change was enough? Nope, not for our counselors, and we followed them for a short while. They brought us to where we had poike one night, many nights ago, and here was a fire. We sat around it and told stories, and shared all the rules we broke, and they shared rules they broke while on EIE. It was another bonding moment. We talked about our first activity and why it was so amazing, and we talked some more about the group. If you want to here something extremely, well, haha self-proclaiming, our group Gadid was most definitely the best. We have the best madrichim, Gali, Inbal, and Yoav, and we have the best 39 kids. We all came so different and still today remain very unique, but all of us have bonded so strongly, and done so much together... I don't think any other group could say the same. Our counselors talked to us, had fun with us, yelled at us, made us feel better, and just was always there for us. I remember sitting around the circle imagining if I was in a different group. I thought about everything Yoav told me about his year, and what my brother, Josh, told me about his. What were their best friends' names? How about their counselors? I'm trying to imagine a different group from my own and I came to realize despite our many individual and collective flaws, our group was perfect. I couldn't have had any better friends, or roommates, or counselors. Despite everything, Gadid felt perfect at that moment. 

     Even after that, the day had not ended. I left a bit early, and me and Martine, my close friend of 8 years, and one of my closest of 2, walked around and talked all about our return to the states. We asked unanswerable questions, and answered with whimsical words which really eluded any meaning. We looked up at the sky, and eventually we got back to our rooms. it was once again close to 3am, and I walked into a room with the beds pushed together and my roommates, Lis, Becca, and Marisa laying down laughing, demanding I join. I hopped right in and we talked for another hour. We finally got to sleep and early 7:30 this morning our first alarm clock went off. Of course breakfast was 8 and I skipped it to sleep in, but I was ready and on time to go to Har Herzle. 

     We arrive there and while we visit Theodore Herzle's grave, I found the graves of other people who are my heroes. I think the most impacting one, which I was shocked to come across was tat of Channa Senesh. It was her I wrote my entry essay on. It is her I have admired and revered since my earliest Sunday school classes. It was her picture I coveted when dawning on the fact that soldiers were lost, and as a girl, I was never going to be held back in some house or kitchen, or even desk position. I saw her grave and that of her troops, who all perished on the Yugoslavia border, but relayed no information upon their execution after days of torture. I was so graciously blessed to visit my hero's grave. But, I don't think that was the most impacting moment, no it was not. You see, this cemetery is active and people are still being buried. We came to the spot of new graves. I saw the pictures and faces of the deceased and I even saw one form the unit I would like to be apart of. It was moving, and I got the overwhelming sense of loss. But then, as I started to recollect my memories of a boy, a teenager, and man I once knew, I thought I was really going to break down so I walked away and thought of other things. I approached Yoav, my madriech, and he looked at this one grave. It wasn't the look other people expected, but I recognized it. He looked as the grave of a black curly haired boy and I saw loss in his face. I asked him if he knew anyone who was buried here. I don't know if he said yes, or just nodded, but in that moment I saw his eyes, and the moment he put a rock on the grave of his fallen friend, I walked away, and I cried. I cried for my loss, I cried for the sadness in his eyes. I cried for the sacrifice of these men. I cried because I was sad. I cried because tomorrow I'll go back to the states, far far away from home, and I'll be faced with the following day of an empty seat at the lunch table I once sat at, a long time ago. I'll see John isn't there, and like these fallen soldier, the only thing keeping their memory alive is us. I don't want to be responsible for this. I don't think I can, but day by day, I'm seeing that life has to go on. These soldiers fought for my land, and I'll keep alive they're memory by repaying them with a few years (hopefully). I'll have to keep John alive by keeping his memory close to me, and sharing it when ever I think his words of wisdom could help. I left the cemetery, and then we went to the kotel. Ending sadness with joy.

     Here at the Kotel, I met for the first time four months ago, and here, I am, the last time for a long while. I put many prayers in. Some for me, most for my family. Walking away, I glanced over my shoulder. I looked at the blue skies towing over the Kotel, and something told me, despite all my fears, everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine, and on leaving the old city, I feel like my time here is going to be soon once again, and back where I came from, everything will just be alright.

Walking from the Past

     I wish I could have videotaped every second of today and yesterday. In addition, the day before yesterday in Tel-Aviv was wonderful too. In Tel-Aviv, we went to a museum that was about seeing in the dark, and is often referred to as the "blind museum." While our guide was blind, it was in the pitch black, and it was all about using everything but your sight, our introduction to the tunnels of rooms and different scenes was supposed to help us enhance our other senses such as feeling and taste in addition to smell and sound. It was such an amazing museum to go to. After, we went to the beach. The lovely, sandy, gorgeous sun and water, Tel-Aviv beach. I ran to the water and only put my ankles in, and than walked over to my towel and fell asleep. I woke up to a burnt stomach that I didn't even notice until later that night, ironically only after making fun of my friend for getting burned and then she pointed it out to me. But, it was so much fun, and by the end of our three hours at the beach, I had walked across the shore-line and ran into the waves drenching myself a couple of times. After this, my group went to Shanken Street were we all finished up our gift shopping and had a really nice time strolling up and down the street through the shops. Going home, was a nice long bus ride where I fell asleep, but the one thing that kept replaying in my mind was when I was ankles in the Mediterranean Sea, talking to my roommate, Lis, commenting how beautiful it was, and how beautiful all of Israel was, and how I was extremely saddened by the thought that this was potentially my last time standing at that very spot, looking at the sparkling waters and the colourful buildings, for a few years. I can't describe the feeling, but she understood, and I think all of EIE understood. It was heartbreaking to know this was the last time some of us might be here in a very long time. Heartbreaking, seems like the right description. It was just, just both an empowering and weakening moment.

     Fast forwarding to the following night, which is now last night, became a story and a memory to be held fast to my thoughts. Yesterday started Shavuot, the holiday in which we offered our first fruits of our fields to Gd, in addition read the story of Ruth, and additionally when we received the giving of the Torah to the Jewish people. First, we went to the Kibbutz festival were they put on skits and performed songs and EIE did a dance! I was really proud of my peers. We then went to the Belmont and did a two hour program which was intriguing. We learned about the story of Ruth and how the giving of the torah could also be a metaphor after farming had decreased among Urban Jews centuries ago. The program ended and then it was midnight. At midnight, there was an optional study in the Zula, which I of course took the opportunity to go to. As I sat down, I realized it wasn't studying but more of a bonding. We talked about revelations we got on EIE, as a connection with the revelation of Torah at Mount Sinai. It was nice. Really, here is where I started to realize how I have changed, and the impact EIE has made on me. Then, at 2am I had to leave to meet up with all of Gadid for an activity. We ended up going to the Tel and not only did we get all of the apparel for our group (which I designed and drew) but we climbed to the top and laid down on a roof of an ancient building. Here, under the innumerable stars, and on our history, we shared our experiences together. I said something I was surprised at. Laying down, a lot of people spoke before me, and I had an idea of what I wanted to say, but it came to me and words flowed out of my mouth that I couldn't even fully comprehend. To the best of my memory I said something along the lines of: "I appreciate this program so much more. I think Yam L'Yam was the biggest impact on me. We got to be with nature and experience the Eretz of Israel, and made me feel so connected. But, as many of you know, the last night of Yam L'Yam I got pretty crappy news. And I mean, I don't want this to be morbid, but it made me think. We are hear living an incredible life, but likewise time doesn't just stop. We are going home and time hasn't stopped, and everyone is... carrying on. I want to make Israel my home so badly, but once we go back, life hasn't stopped." When I said I didn't fully understand what I was saying, I realized it later in the day, today. I'll go into it a bit later, but this is a revelation I had this morning at 3am in the morning. At almost 4am we were all done and we seemed to have bonded on a whole other level once again. Then, as it was ten to 4am and it wrapped up. A few of us who had signed up for an experience dashed to our rooms to drop off our things and change into white. Within minutes, we were on buses headed to the old city. We were going to the Kotel. As we arrived, it was approaching 5:30 and we watched the sky turn to red outside the gates. We got inside, and the reds turned to pink. We heard a short little intro by the leader of our adventure, and then I separated from the group at the closest possible second and entered the Western Wall Plaza. Here I was at the Kotel watching the sunrise with thousands of people. It took a half an hour to weave and push my way through the crowd and there I was. I was touching the wall. I had made my first pilgrimage to the wall. Shavuot is one of three pilgrimage holidays, and here I was. I can't explain the feeling I got. Was it pride? Excitement? I can't tell you, but I was overwhelmed with this feeling of being apart of a true people. Being Jewish as a Nation rather than a mere religion. Here, is where I think I had abandoned my America. I was now Jewish. Just simply Jewish. I came back home, to the kibbutz, at 6am and passed out. All night up being apart of my people, I was experiencing my history. I was walking from my past, I was walking the same steps as my ancestors into the future. Additionally, I was walking my own path, maybe it was away from my personal past, but it was with my head held high. 

Now, to connect my major ideas of the long day, I was talking to my parents and I was so excited to tell them about my morning. I was so excited to hear their voices because I miss them so dearly. Family has never felt more important to me ever than recently. But, I realized something very, very... I'll explain. I asked them if I could go with my friend and her sister to another kibbutz to celebrate Shavuot.  After living in on my own for four full months, given freedom to go to a huge concert in Tel-Aviv on the program, allowed to go to the Kotel with thousands of people allowed to explore by myself at 4am, given all this freedom (and responsibility) I figured my parents were just going to say yes and send an e-mail giving me permission to go with them. Never did I think my parents who have sent me to live virtually independently, to let me grow up and experience this life, would have said no to going to a safe kibbutz with people I trust. I didn't get it at first. No? Then, once we hung up, with me wanting to cry because of frustration, I finally got it! I got what I was talking about at 3am a few hours earlier. Time doesn't stop. My parents were concerned for me, and they care about my safety and health. They didn't know my friend or her sister, and while I have been allowed to go to places much more dangerous and what-not, I just got it. I have been growing and changing here. While I haven't felt it, because everyone around me has been going through the same growth and experiences, my parents only remember me as the 15 year-old girl who left them in January. I don't blame them; life continues on. In fact, it was a great feeling to know they care so much about me, but also, I realize I left a somewhat immature, somewhat irresponsible, carefree 15 year old American. Today, I sit here realizing I have matured, I have learned what true responsibility is, and now I'm a 16 year old Jew. Simply put, "We are hear living an incredible life, but likewise time doesn't just stop. We are going home and time hasn't stopped, and everyone is... carrying on." 

When I return to the States, my greatest fear, which I am ready to admit to the world, and to myself is my family. I don't want to disappoint them. I don't want to be labeled as a product of brainwashing. I don't want to be compared to my older brother who has found his own way, but no one could understand how he got there... he just mysteriously changed (in my opinion). I have learned about my history. I started out saying "the Jewish people" and "them" or "they." During my AP European Exam, it wasn't "them" it was "us, I, we." I have become apart of a bigger picture. When I go home, friends will either accept me or reject me, but my family is my everything and I don't want to go home to another label or have to figure out an excuse as to why I am who I am. Time didn't stop, and while it is going to take adjustments for me, it is going to be a huge adjustment for everyone who knew me before. For everyone who I loved before, they are going to have to adjust, and I am terrified of what this could imply. And while this might be a terrible transition, I have stated what has been on my mind for weeks now, and now I have stated that, I'll continue with today.

I woke up at 10am, with 4 hours or so of sleep and made my way to the Belmont for Shavuot services. It was nice, but I was exaughisted and mentally, I was very pensive. I was thinking about all I wrote previously. I made my way to lunch, and then the day started to fade. I went to the pool that opened, and I then made my way to my room and changed for Shabbat services. The last thing I wanted to do was MORE services, but I went and I would have never believed it, but these services were th most moving for me. So much uplifting singing, the hour (maybe two?) service seemed like minutes. I sang a bit, and trying to organize my thoughts for this blog and for my person. I have written what I was thinking all day, and it's funny how this was all TODAY. It might be the next day at 2:30 am, on a technicality, but today was just wow. I wrapped up the day by going to another group bonding thing at 9:30. We did hilarious charades which with no words, said everything about our group and experience. We than did a thing that tried to characterize our personality and ole within our group. We finished it off by going to a room. 40 of us in a room half the size of what I call my room in America (to give you an idea) and well, we got back our "goals" from the first week. I read it and laughed. I had accomplished all of them. Some of them were simple like make friends and get good grades. Others where meaningful like get along with Rachel, my sister, and have the time of my life. Every single one was accomplished. I felt like the experiences here have changed me, and molded me, and seeing this list, made me into a better person. I left the room, when for a walk with Josh, who for those who don't know I have known him since I was little and consider him to be a brother. This trip has made us so close I cannot even say, but we talked about all of this, about what I said here, and about even more which novels could be written on. Than, it was curfew, 1am, and here I sit still writing at now 2:46am. 

     Today, I have really, truly, come to see what this trip has meant for me. I was frustrated with the logistics of the program (like rules and such), but I really know that what I got out of these four months is incomprehensible. I have walked from the past. I am a new person as an individual, but also, I have walked with my people on this journey, and coming out of the land of Israel I'm not only walking away from my home, I'm walking away from my 4,000 year old past. 

Northern Heights of Beauty

     Taking a breath both in and out, I realize the sights I have seen in the Galil and the Golan are too much for words and the things we have done are just incredible. What I remember in the beginning of the four days (before I decided to write it down on my Ipod "notes") is vague and not a lot but I'll start with that. We left Kibbutz Tzuba at seven-ish and took a nice long ride up to the Golan. What this first day was dedicated to was furthering our Jewish education despite school being over, and we put a face to the places our classes spoke about during the Independence and Lebanon war as well as both Intifadas. It was really interesting. Here we also learned the story of the famous Elli Cohen, an incredible Israeli spy. The second day was more fun than anything else, and we rafted down the Jordan River. I would like to admit to all of you that when I saw the Jordan river for the first time from a Crusaders fort way up in the mountains weeks ago. I was completely dumbstruck to see that I could potentially take one good leap across the mighty Jordan River. I'd call it more of a brook or a rather big stream, haha. Sorry to ruin the surprise for all of you who were excited to see it, but the good news is I had an absolute blast kayaking down it, and recommend everyone to do it once, twice, or even a dozen times! Well, from the next day on I kept an interesting blog on my handy-dandy electronic device, so I'll just leave it as it is:

May 24:

Ok, so maybe I'm not writing on my actual blogging site this very moment, but I'll make due with what I have (my Ipod). I have decided to take my artistic liscence and write a few things I have been meaning to put on paper but just never got the chance to... In addition I felt like expirementing with words and forms of writing unfamiliar to this blog.

Coming from the light,
I see out beyond what I can feel
I see a ocean of black creeping up to the horizon met with a clump of fallen stars.
Just beyond my reach I know I'm facing where I was raised but behind me I see home.
In this direction I can envision the masses of waters, but I seem to rember the harvests of feilds.
I come out of the light to face a deep abyss.
I see an ancient tunnel and somehow the walls around me havent demaciated and turned inward.
I face the west like my elders once did.
To only view the east and envision a bold dream.
Somehow I'm in that ocean I once looked from both banks and once from above.
Once upon a time ago I knew how to swim, but my mind has seemed to learn how to fly the waters' winds.
I want to choose a fallen star but once apon a time, a time ago, the star has rectified itself into the bright black above.
Watching the earth crumble and rise I know I'll soon be ashore distant once more coming from the light to see the other side.

I wake up from reality in a dream and now my fingertips have tasted the sweet suroundings.
I wake up from reality in a dream to find my taste overwhelmed by the vast plains, hills, and mountains.
I wake up from a dream in reality and capture my hope that once dissapated into sky.

Arisen from a hazy dream in an unreal life to realize a powerful light of years of plight and black darkness met with the taste of sweet dates and honey with people in feilds of mellow regret and seas of salty tears but somehow a mysterious veil of haze has caught me by the frays of my cloth and unraveled the innerworkings of beauty by vision and secrecy covered up with names of pentip and covered over by verse unrepeated with new birth by the blooming trees and windbound leaves floating to ravishing seas vanishing onward through.

On beautiful rolling hills of the Golan I see a graceful grass being swept from side to side by the winds amassed under clouds so rich of silver, blanketed by the golden sun atop, renweded by refreshing brethe, masking many mines in the dirt as antique as time.

Mere meters away from a border I brethe Lebanon's stiff air looking into feilds barren with tall grass blond in light. A bird breaking silence across the withered fence. It might in reality stand proud and strong but the destruction it has faced north and past makes a man who faces it withered like the fallen fence where it was replaced by yet another.

Sitting on grass, itchy and green, I feel as though a spirit in me has both come and gone, our last history class on my people has arrived making the sea of questions vaporize with twice as many to take their place and a heavy air of uncertainty grip my hands unsure of what next step to take and next aspiration to follow with the coming of a simple begining to a complex end wraught with time and standstills when four thousand years made its way to pages in a notebook which four months could not fit.

May 25:

Syria is right here as I stand and lift my gaze and sight the captivating mountain hermon in my sight while the rolling green farming feilds dramatically change to yellow as the border is met on the Valley of Tears where  liters were cried and the big tanks shouted from within when faced with blood spilled for my vantage point in this world.

Through the darkness another clump of stars appear, origins unknown, I have gained a wisdom unparalleled to my days as a phase in my life comes to a close while life and her wisdom often do propose a solution while sitting here, glancing to these stars I have not yet found, to only look up and see the stars looking directly back at me with glee.

May 26 (Today):

What an interesting start to today. Despite school being over  last Thursday, waking up at the impossible hour of 6:30 came as a unwelcomed surprise. Despite it, I dragged myself out of my warm bunkbed and made my way to the chedar ochel and then the bus. We then arrived at a place I'm unsure if and got an intro on what we were about to do. Twenty minutes and a short ride later I was faced to face with an Arab teenager my age. Broken into classes and than smaller groups we were supposed to have a dialgouge with third generation Israeli Muslim Arabs in Dir Al'sed (no idea if I spelled that correctly). To my amazement they spoke pretty amazing English and all knew Hebrew either fluently or well. Some even knew an additional language. Talking with them was really great. Although it was artificial and quite short, it was a memorable experience. They all had high expectations for themselves (ex: doctors) and they seemed to like Israel which was surprising. They told us they were discriminated against, but at the same time, they realized Israel holds potential and great opportunities. They also said how they would love to travel Europe and some even want to try and live in Germany, Italy, Spain, and some said Jordan was a good place too. It wasn't political or anything like many of us hoped it would be, but it was still a nice insight to people our age that the media seems to make out as either victims or aggressors. It shed a new light. Not every Arab has an extremist views. Not every Arab is filthy rich rich or poorer than dirt. Not all of them hate me for being American or Jewish, or wanting to live in Israel. A lot of them just simply want to live and be left to live. They want to make a family and a life for themselves. It's really that simple. I just desperately wished the news and the media could just shed light to this fact. I wish that the world could see 120 Jews and approximately 60 Arabs could sit in a room and have a good time together. Haha, call it naive or idealistic, but imagine an Israel where this didn't just happen by slight chance or because of a program, but happened because of a general interest in one another. 

      Right after, we took a long ride to another village. We arrived at a Druze village. We went to a house were we were served food and a piece of their culture. We were taught about their religion (or at least what wasn't secret) and I really liked their values and ideas. I'll stay Jewish, thank you very much, but their religion really fascinated and interests me. Reincarnation, their holy scriptures, their flag of colours representing their patriarchs, and everything else our guide spoke on intrigued me to say the least. Oh, and they have incredible food, haha. We then went shopping in the village shuk. Today was a nice, relaxing, informative, interesting close to our trip up in the north. It was beautiful everywhere I turned, and I can't wait to go back and explore the Galil and Golan again. In fact, I hope all of you get a chance to see even a fraction of what I saw and hopefully more. It is really just... mind-blowing.

Half Past Midnight

     Today (or if you want to be technical, yesterday), I finished my last final and am now deemed a junior in high school. How did this happen all so fast? A sixteen year old, junior in high school, living independently in another country from her family, about to come back to a life that feels so foreign to her own. I can't imagine living with my parents again, but I welcome it, and I can't imagine waking up hours before school to take a yellow school bus, instead of walking across a narrow street three minutes before class. I'm not sure what to make of my experience, but it was a good one. To celebrate our new grades, wether its a new junior, a new senior, or a new graduate from high school, we went to yom hastudent, a huge concert in Tel-Aviv and had a blast. Ivri Lider, a really good musician I like played there, along with many other bands and individuals. I mainly hung out with my roommate, Lis, and all her friends who are in a study-abroad program in Israel as well. I cannot tell you the fun I had, and the liveliness of Israeli life I saw there. It was an extremely different experience than I have had on EIE before. I liked it. 

     Anyway, two weeks are left of Israel and it's about half past midnight, more or less approaching one. Tomorrow, I have an interview with a few other kids about our experiences on EIE, and then we go to the North. I'm not all that sure what we will be doing in the Golan, or for that fact at all over the next five days, but with school over and a close coming, I feel like it will be a lot of fun. WELL, lilah tov or good morning (which ever you prefer), and I'll tell you about our adventure when I return to Kibbutz Tzuba for what will be the last time. <3

Coca-Cola and a Thought

     Well, today is the day I decided to put some real words to my blog after an extended hiatus. Sitting here, drinking the Coca Cola I convinced myself I'd get off of months ago, I have come to terms with my feelings. I'm not going to lie, or skirt around my thoughts and ideas like a couple of past blogs. Nor am I going to merely imply my intentions like almost all of the blogs I have written until this point. I have been thinking. I have been dreaming. I have been fantasizing, and I am really coming to terms of who I am and what I want in my life.

    My audience, to you I am thankful for going through this once in a life time experience alongside me. But, I need to express my intentions as the days are starting to dwindle down. 

    Every since last week, people have been whimpering and whining about going back to the States. "NO, don't bring it up!" is how many react when being faced with the number of days, or at the mere fact EIE is at the brink of its final goodbyes. I am so excited to go back. I miss my mom, my dad, my brother, I miss my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, I miss my friends, and most of all I miss my freedom. I'm living without parents, half away across the world, and with 118 other teenagers, you might be befuddled as to what I'm referring to. 

     In short, I have more freedom grounded in the US. Plain and simple, I traded two loving parents for three madrachiem who are my brother's age, and have complete responsibility for 40 of us. Have I ever said living with a twin is difficult? Imagine 39 siblings! It feels like my two liberal and loving parents were swapped with three amazing but worried counselors, afraid to trust us with a simple responsibility such as crossing the street without a buddy simply because of the sheer number of us. Where has my individually gone in a sea of American teens who are still just average American teens? Worried about boys, clothing, and looking good for their facebook photos doesn't surprise me, but the fact that many of them make this a trip over an experience confuses me. Where is the freedom being stuck in an American bubble while Israel's culture and daily life is teasing and tempting me outside the rules? I don't need to lie, I'm not ashamed to say I have broken numerous rules here. The biggest of them being not allowed to go certain places on the kibbutz. I know the entirety of the kibbtuz like the back of my hand now, despite the rule,  because I am not afraid to explore and 'bend' the rules. But the truth of the matter is I refuse to live in a place without knowing in where it is I am living! I think it's absurd and odd to not understand the place where we live. Security and safety is a marvelous reason to enforce rules, but at the same time, where do these rules make us loose our complete independence?

    One thing I don't want this to become is a list of grievances, but I do truly, truly, and completely miss my freedom. I count down the days when I go to Noa's house for the weekend. I can stay out with her until her parents (and my surrogate parents =] ) tell us our curfew is. It's the only time during the week breathing isn't on the schedule. Okay, maybe I'm being a pre-madonna, but hanging out with Noa and friends on the weekend is the only time I feel like I can breathe. In addition, I don't understand how kids who don't go out on the weekends experience authentic teenage life in Israel? In order to sleep late and just be able to be with one of my best friends with out time limits, without restrictions on everything, as well as experiencing actual Israeli life.

     Aside from physical restrictions I have been coping with here, I want to share the freedom of thought and mental overflow I have come to. With little physical freedom, I find myself exploring options and the limitless abyss of musing to myself with notions or ideas about myself and my future. I often wonder when the next time I come back to Israel will be. I have taken serious time to contemplate what I want and if this includes aliyah, army, and college in Israel. I have dually come with terms with reality and the hardships starting completely over in a completely different culture will be. Without parents, family support, or any foundation, I'll be virtually be reliving the last 19 years of life if I decide to move to Israel. An avid zionist, a complete idealist, a person who isn't afraid to chase after her dreams, there is still room for rational in my opinionated 16 year-old mind. No doubt I have fallen in love with this land. I have never felt so much apart of a people, never before have I come to understand what national pride is, never have I known a way of life that I envy so, but yet, never have I realized what opportunities have been simply given to me because I am American.

     With everyone getting touchy-feely about the closing of EIE, wanting their names written on their classroom walls and chairs, wanting the pictures to keep coming up to the last second, assuring their friends they'll visit no matter what state you or they are from, and no matter what happens they will have had this experience for themselves, I have really taken the opportunity to understand and piece together the ideas I have formulated on hour plus bus rides, and nights of restlessness, and hopeless days in which I thought futile to carry on submissively through. In 108 days, I cannot say I have mapped out my life, or even for sure know what I want to do with the rest of it, but I can confidently say I have found a path all of my own, which I am willing to defend with weeks of thorough thought, experiences unique to my person, as well as ideology far beyond what I came here with. I will not express my future plans here, as things are liable to change, and I'm still very open-minded to outside views, but one thing I will reveal is I have finally found a platform to base my entirety on: family, friends, education, love of my Jewish Identity, and love of my Jewish people. What ever comes of it, will. But what I have never said out loud is I want to make my life in this land, the land I feel most connected with. I won't pretend that doesn't sound arrogant or idealistic or maybe not even fully thought out because after all what's a mere 108 days out of 80 years? I already said, it's liable to change. But for my future, I can completely envision one here. Maybe not right out of high school... maybe not even out of college, maybe a family later, or decades beyond. I promise I will come back. To live, maybe, but with my signature coca-cola in my hand, and a thought in my mind, I think I have a few years to decide. 

Just Another Life to be Led

     It has been crazy how fast time has been flying by. I wish I could recall every second since my last post, but the issue is life just has to be led. Yom Hatzmeut was a whole bunch of fun! I was surprised, however, by the turn over from a day of national mourning to one of parties, concerts, dances, picnics, plays, skits, fireworks, and fun.

     What else can I say about my life here? I have been increasingly home sick, calling my family more often than normal, and my friends more than I should! (Dad, don't kill me over the phone bill... =] ).

     Well, what can I announce? My sixteenth birthday was yesterday! By far the best birthday I can recall. Just hanging out with friends, in all places ISRAEL, made it spectacular! Although, I came to realize this was probably the first birthday I was not home for, it was still a lot of fun. My roommates and friends made it a wonderful one. At midnight, Rach ran across the hall to my room and we exchanged gifts. Her face was absolutely priceless when she got her gift! With the help of friends pitching in, I'm pretty sure she'll never forget this gift. 

     I can NOT believe that this is our last month here. 26 days until I'm back in the States. Time is just hurrying on by. I really don't want to go back, but at the same token, I miss everyone SO extremely much! I never thought it was possible, but it turns out it is exceedingly difficult to talk to my parents or friends without aching to see them. I hope this doesn't cause me to rush the end of EIE, but all I can say is time is flying by and soon enough this will all be in the past. I can not express the wonders I have seen, or the things I have done, but I do know that when I am going home all I'll be thinking is what has changed? How have I changed?