Sunday, December 30, 2018

In a Nutshell (A Tribute to Amos Oz)

The trains are still running 
The skies are still raining 
The people are still talking 
Nothing has changed 

The times are still set 
The classes are beginning 
They all are still cheering 
Everything is the same

The writers are writing 
The singers are singing 
The ground is still as is the cold winter air 

That same officer is standing at that same corner 
When I first asked him where a certain building was 
3 years ago

The same man is working at the station 
Handing out pamphlets at 6am
I used to run by him on my way to school 
For 2 years

Adults are rushing to work
And children to school
Worrying about something we all have before

My worries are no longer mine 
They belong to the next one in line 

For I have inherited another's 

The process goes on and on 
But for not that long 
We realize one day 
When we are old and grey 

But then it may be too late
To understand this fate 
You have slept far too long 
Perhaps you have done it all wrong

“In a nutshell, the choice is between going through this life awake or in a kind of stupor.”
Amos Oz, A Tale of Love and Darkness

I read Oz's book, referenced above, about a year ago. It was extremely nostalgic and the emotions he expressed were those I wish I could write down on paper and formulate into coherent words myself. His words are those that people need to hear. 

What I took away from his story was that whether or not you decide to move or to stay, everything is going to remain- for the most part- the same. 

A tribute to Amos oz- Israeli writer, novelist, journalist, and intellectual. December 28, 2018. 



Monday, December 10, 2018

The Last Night, Last Night (On Being at the Kotel on the 8th Night of Chanukah)

There is a woman yelling in my ear. She is trying to communicate with someone over the phone while simultaneously not lose her kid in the crowd of thousands. 

I am standing on a chair and I think I may fall any minute though the rush of excitement and energy in the air makes me want to ignore any ounce of fear I have at the thought of possibly getting injured. 

I hear mumbles coming from the crowd of strangers and also personal interactions. 

My feet ache and I want to go to sleep, though I feel like I could also run a mile. I want to run past every person and place. 

I feel like a contradiction in every sense of the word. I’m awake and exhausted. Ecstatic and sad. So sure of everything, yet confused. I’ve got it all figured out and I’m so painfully overwhelmed.

I am a contradiction. 

Everything is a contradiction and I want the world to freeze, but everyone is moving so fast. Everything is a blur and my thoughts are racing. My emotions are running. 

Jerusalem, Israel
I want everyone to stop so I can stare at them and see the answers written in their eyes. 
Or maybe guess the answers and hope that they’re right so maybe I can feel less guilty. I can feel less guilty because we are all guilty. We are all longing for the same things yet we feel so disconnected. We are all confused in our own and the same ways. We all fall prey to that which we wish we could just let go of and let disappear into non-existence.

I want to make everything quiet and still with a single word. I want to be able to hear a pin drop in this crowd of people. I want to see every detail of every interaction in slow motion. 

And I don’t know why. 

I don’t care about all these details, but my curiosity drives me towards them. I don’t care but I want everyone else to. I want everyone else to see something deeper and brighter and greater. 

I want everyone to see me. 

But I am a shadow in the light. 

I absorb it and hold onto it as tight as I can. Until it slips away, hopefully to someone else. To inspire someone else. To drive someone else. Perhaps that force will cause them to feel the way I feel and see what I see and think what I’m thinking. 

Perhaps we all share this light. 

This light sends a message to this town, this city, this state, country, continent, world, planet. 

Perhaps this light is not just meant for us here. Perhaps it is meant for everyone. 

It sends a ring in my ears and a peace in my mind. A warmth in my heart and a shiver in my spine. 

Then we all dissipate and scatter. We all go our separate ways, but the light is still shining in the place it was lit. I feel it leaving me, throwing me into an alternate universe. A universe of normalcy. I feel myself slowing down and aching spiritually.

Like me, this light is a contradiction. It is a story. Waiting to be heard and trying to find a place in every heart, mind, and soul. 

Perhaps this light is a reflection of me. Perhaps it is a reflection of all of us. A reflection of who we want to be and the visions we have in our minds of who we are becoming. 


And so I conclude in my mind as I lay down to bed: Tell the others. The answers have been found. Share the never-ending wonder and perhaps it will live in you.

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Thanksgiving

I am grateful for my fears because they have taught me how to be brave. I am grateful for the opportunities missed because they led me to the ones I have now. I am grateful for when my siblings annoy me because being far away from home I realize how much I miss it. I am grateful for the distance I currently have from my friends (though it’s hard) because it has shown me how privileged I am to have those that will go out of their way to actually call me when we haven’t seen each other in months (and work out the time differences even squeezing me in during your lunch break at work๐Ÿ˜ซ). I am grateful for the new friends I’ve made and the home away from home I’ve built here in ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ฑ. I am grateful for moments of sadness because through those moments I learned what happiness is. I am grateful for my story, my reality, what is yet to come, and even the unknown because it is what makes life so exciting. I used to think I wanted all the answers but now realize it’s searching for them that makes it all worthwhile. I am grateful for being grateful because sometimes it’s harder than it should be❤️ Oh and I’m also grateful for bread though I have a gluten sensitivity and for people who kill bugs for me๐Ÿ™‚ Real deal. #shabbatshalom #thanksgiving #grateful


Monday, November 19, 2018

The Power of Prayer

I usually write long blog posts about my experiences, but this is pretty straight to the point and the message is clear. 

I have been trying for months to recover a password to an old google account to which I really need to get access. Since I'm in Israel, my phone doesn’t receive access code messages or calls. In the classes I attend here we learn a lot about the power of prayer, yet I still tend to overlook it for some reason๐Ÿ™ˆ.

Earlier today in class we went over the concept of the power of prayer again, and I decided that I would start to really pray for help getting into my account. At that moment I looked up and said, “G-d, please help me get into this account. It’s so important to me.”

I just tried to log on again and got directed to the recovery page. I put in my American number like I did every other time, and I got in๐Ÿ™Œ๐Ÿผ.

Coincidence? I think not. 

Power of prayer, people. 

Sunday, November 4, 2018

Shabbat: My Favorite Day of the Week

I would like to share something interesting that I learned in one of my classes this past week๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป. 

Since the Shabbat Project (when people from all over the world celebrate the day of rest together) just passed and the topic of the class had to do with finding balance in life- I feel that discussing Shabbat is fitting๐Ÿ‘Œ๐Ÿป.

In class we discussed the importance of maintaining a healthy balance between work and rest. Being that I personally struggle with being able to find that healthy balance (I have that typical present-day multi-tasking, being "busy" obsession), I really appreciated the wise perspective my teacher introduced to my frame of mind. 

She presented a simple scenario๐Ÿ‘€:
A child does something wrong and is told by his parents to stand in the corner. This form of discipline is meant to help the child improve on his character so that the child will have time to reflect on the wrongdoing, and hopefully will come to understand how to behave properly. After the child has stood in the corner for a period of time, expresses an understanding of what was done wrong, and apologizes- the parent tells the child that he can now leave the corner. The child however decides to stay in the corner for another hour. The parent tells the child it is not necessary and that his time in the corner is over. The child insists on staying in the corner for another hour๐Ÿค”.  

So many times without even realizing it, we tend to trap ourselves in our routines, work, schedules... etc. The above analogy is not to say that work and tasks are punishments... not at all. Having a purpose and role in life is vital to our wellbeing๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿป. However, it is also vital to ensure that we don't allow these aspects of our lives to take over our lives altogether. 

Life should not revolve around being tied down to our work. It is a popular trend now- being "busy","productive" and multitasking. These things make us feel good... until we get burnout. When we don't allow ourselves to take a break and step back from everything, we are doing ourselves a disservice. We are hurting ourselves, often times unecessarily. 

This is why I appreciate Shabbat. It is my guilt-free day of rest, how I get myself to relax and hold back from doing, doing, doing... like I normally do๐Ÿคท‍♀️. Turning off all of my electronics and unplugging from the outside world for 25 hours a week. 25 hours for introspection and tranquility. 

All the moreso, in Israel with an amazing group of people!☺️

Shabbat Project 10/26/18
Bet Shemesh, Israel 

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Being Aware (Choose Happiness)

“Life requires so many choices... so choose to be happy” ๐Ÿ˜Š - a random piece of paper that somebody hung on the library wall.

Today I am writing not about how happiness is a choice, but rather about the importance of being aware. 

I know it’s not really all that related to choosing to be happy and so this is a stretch from the opening quote... but I think this is more important for me to write about right now and it’s something new I’ve been trying to do. 

Being aware. 
Like being awake… if not the same thing. 

This has become harder to do. With electronics all over the place... smartphones, high tech watches... it’s hard to disconnect from all of that and just sit and think. Or just to simply sit and notice our surroundings. 

Apparently, some people have an app on their phones that tells them how much time they have spent on their phones that day and how many times they looked at their social media accounts. The statistics I’ve heard are astonishing. Well, at least when I first heard the stats I thought that they were astonishing. 

When I thought about it again I realized that it’s really not surprising at all. These statistics make total sense. Of course, we are spending hours on our phones. The majority of us turn to them when there is even a small moment to sit and reflect, think, ponder, or just be. 

Try this: sit and think for 5 minutes. Just sit and focus on a single thing. 

Can you do it? 

Most people have a hard time doing this. Even just focusing on a single thought for a relatively short period of time. 

If you can’t do that when you are alone, then at least do it when you are with people. Don’t look at your phone while eating with a group of people, spending time with friends and family, on a trip somewhere, or walking down the street (for safety reasons too๐Ÿ˜). One of the saddest things I’ve seen and done is allowing quality time with people and myself to slip away from me. I let it slip away from me so easily. I didn’t even put up a fight for what I could easily have. 

Anyway, the point is that we allow ourselves to be unaware of what is going on around us so much of the time because of our focus on things that have nothing to do with the present moment or even with us. 

There is so much beauty in watching the world. There is so much beauty and excitement in getting to see the world through our own personal lenses- our eyes. We have so much opportunity and cannot let it go to waste. 

Try the exercise I mentioned above. Try it over and over and over and over again. 


Until you don't need to try anymore. 

Sunday, October 28, 2018

A Letter to Anti-Semitism

This is a piece I wrote in response to the horrible tragedy that occurred yesterday in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Our nation has lost another 11 souls simply because of hatred. 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

This morning I woke up and said these words that I say every day, with more intensity than I normally do: 

ืžื•ֹื“ֶื” ืֲื ִื™ ืœְืคָื ֶֽื™ืšָ ืžֶֽืœֶืšְ ื—ַื™ ื•ְืงַื™ָּื™ื ืฉֶׁื”ֶֽื—ֱื–ַֽืจְืชָּ ื‘ִּื™ ื ִืฉְׁืžָืชִื™ ,ื‘ְּื—ֶืžְืœָื” ืจַื‘ָּื” ืֱืžֽื•ּื ָืชֶֽืšָ

“I give thanks before you, King living and eternal, for You have returned within me my soul with compassion; abundant is Your faithfulness.”

Life is a gift and nobody knows when it can come to an end. This tragedy hits so close to home and it feels so personal. People pray when they are afraid, worried, unsure, need guidance... yet innocent people were targeted and murdered in a house of prayer๐Ÿ˜ž Thinking of the families and people affected by this act of terror in Pittsburgh. 

ื‘ืจื•ืš ื“ื™ื™ืŸ ื”ืืžืช
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Dear anti-Semitism,

I have heard and read about you so many times in my life, and especially today. I have seen you. I have felt you. I have experienced you. You have been paving the course of my life even before I was able to understand what you are.

My grandparents and parents fled from you, which led to my becoming an American. If not for you, perhaps I would be living in Russia. No, wait, I would be living in Iran- where my descendants fled from you as well. Or no- I would be living in Israel, where our people first established themselves as a nation… only to be expelled time and time again (because of you). To this day, people are still trying to get rid of us altogether.

While a supporter of yours murdered people praying in Pittsburgh simply because they were Jewish, 34 rockets were launched from the Gaza Strip at communities in southern Israel. This is nothing new, of course. You have so many followers, anti-Semitism. All over the world. My fingers can’t type fast enough to finish sharing one of your stories before you strike again. Sometimes I feel like I can’t keep up with you, though I am trying.

A prominent synagogue located just two minutes from where I am living here in Israel had the exact same situation occur just a couple of years ago. I just want to let you know that you and your supporters have not scared me off from coming here. You have not scared off the families who were affected and who are still happily living here. I still walk by that synagogue from time to time and the cracks from the bullets are still there in those windows, which I always turn to look at while also noticing that there are so many people still learning and praying in that very synagogue. I have met those families that you have broken, and even celebrated a bar mitzvah in the walls you tried to break down.

I cried when you murdered Ezra Schwartz, a young vibrant 18 year old who was supposed to join me at Rutgers two years ago. While watching his parents eulogize him on the live recording, I was crying so hard that I feared my dorm mates would hear me. So I cried as quietly as I could. I couldn’t tell what hurt more- watching the funeral or crying so hard. I finally forced myself to shut off the video and convinced myself it was fair for me not to have to watch since I had class and needed to calm myself down before walking out onto the college campus that Ezra would never get to see or experience because of you.

When my best friend met him before he left for Israel, she asked him if he was afraid to come here. He said if he were afraid, then that would be letting you (anti-Semitism) win. He understood this more than most people. Now the rest of us must understand this in his place. We must continue to live with this.

I cried when you murdered Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali. I was so upset, I felt I had to do something, so I started an Israel group that now has over 600 supporters from all over the world. Yup, other people who hate you just as much as I do. I felt powerless, so I did the only thing I could do. Over four years later and I am still sharing such somber news again and again.

It’s emotionally draining. Every story, person, name... the funerals, eulogies, images...

When I heard about this attack, this time I cried without fear of who might see me. For you cannot be afraid when you live in a world like this. In a sense that would be writing my own death sentence and letting you win. I’m not planning on letting you do that. Ezra didn’t and I remember that always.

But it is exactly everything that you hate- the Torah, our Jewish values and beliefs- that have kept us going through the pain. I met one of the women who became a widow after your attack at that synagogue. She is as lovely as ever- inviting all the students here at my school to come to her office for some tea at any time. Her husband- the man you murdered- was a good man. You should be ashamed, yet you are so proud.

The list of terror that occurs here, goes on and on. Stabbings, bombings, shootings, car-ramming attacks… in your name. You always have a reason to hate on us.

Anti-Semitism, I’m tired of you. I’m frustrated, angry, and sour. I work for an organization that monitors anti-Israel activity and you (because really at the end of the day you are behind it all), and every single day I see how widespread you are. Every single day you are out here spreading hate and violence.

I have also seen how you live within the people I never thought that you would. Right before I came to Israel, I mentioned to my Iranian neighbor that I was coming here. This man has been living right next door to us for 20 years. 20 years. Just after I told him I was coming here, he completely stopped talking to my family. Doesn’t wave back to my parents in the morning anymore. Doesn’t say hello when we walk or drive by anymore. Actually, the last time I saw him at the gym 2 months ago and said hello to him, he made it very clear to me that I might as well just not. I have never had someone give me a look filled with so much anger and hate. He made his point very clear. It was actually scary.

And this is despite the fact that he is from Iran, visits Iran, and has family living in Iran... the place from which my family fled and the country that calls for the death of all Jews (and America too but too many Americans for some reason still think it’s a good idea to give them nuclear weapons). We never judged him or were cold towards him. There is a lot that I do not understand right now. A lot that I don’t even want to understand.

It’s all one and the same. Being here in Israel, being an active participant in the pro-Israel community, being a proud Zionist… being a Jew… it’s all one and the same.

Our people have been through so much because of you, yet we have surpassed and outlived all those who have tried to bring an end to our existence. Those who tried to exterminate us have been long gone.

Now we have policemen guarding synagogues in New York- where I was born! Anti-Semitism, you aren’t going anywhere. You are going everywhere!

But you know what’s crazy, anti-Semitism? The place from which you had us kicked out in the beginning- is exactly where you are causing us to return now. Thousands of European Jews have already made their way back to Israel over the past several years because of you. Many American Jews have done the same or are planning on it. Your followers in Iran and the rest of the Middle East use this as part of their plan to exterminate us once and for all. All the Jews in one place so that we can kill them all off, they say. You’re very good at what you do.

So this is Iran, Russia, America, and Israel. Every country where my family has lived or that has been dear to us. You and yours don’t want us in Israel, in America or in Europe. Wherever we go, we are a problem for you.

Clearly, we haven’t given up. We are still here and are proud (well, most of us at least. Those self-hating Jews are worse than even you). No amount of intimidation or terror is going to change that.

Anti-Semitism, you aren’t going anywhere.

But neither are we.

Yours truly,
A proud Jew



Thursday, October 18, 2018

Everybody Expresses Love Differently

Today I would like to write about an important concept that is so obvious, yet so difficult at the same time.

One of the courses that I am taking here in Israel during my year abroad is called Love, Marriage, and Relationships.

Now, I am not talking specifically about romantic love or marriage in this blog post. I am referring to relationships in general. Relationships with friends, family, and really whoever else with whom you may spend a decent amount of time.

It wasn't until I entered this new environment here in this country, and began living with a bunch of new people...that I realized how important it is to be flexible and patient with those with whom you surround yourself.

Now, don't get me wrong. It's obvious that everyone is different. We all have different experiences, were raised differently, have different expectations, values, cultures (a big one), and goals.

However, is it not true that all people tend to forget this simple truth all the time!?

Think of how many times a friend or someone you care about or someone you know has acted in a manner that confused you or made you upset. Think about all of the times you may have acted a certain way or said something with absolute innocence...yet someone else misunderstood you or your motives.

These types of things happen more often than we would think it would happen.

What made me realize this truth was an experience I had here with a friend.

We both come from different backgrounds and have major differences alongside our similarities.

When I was first getting to know her, I honestly could not tell how I felt about her. She seemed really nice, but also sometimes could act somewhat cold. Then one night when I was out late, she called me to make sure that I was okay. She was worried about me because I had not had a chance to respond to her previous text asking me if I was alright.

I realized that her way of expressing that she cares about me and others is by worrying.

She may not always act warm, but when it gets down to something that could possibly be serious- she takes initiative. She shows that she cares.



Although she may act cold and disconnected sometimes, that's just what she is used to. That part of her has to do with her experiences and history. She showed she truly cares about me and loves me as a friend, by worrying about me when I didn't respond.

This experience reminded me that it is important to remember and understand that just because someone doesn't respond to me a certain way or treat me a certain way, that does not always mean that they do not care about me or love me.

Just as I have a certain way of showing people I care about them- others have their own ways of showing they care.

Of course, this concept works slightly differently if you are looking for someone with whom to spend the rest of your life... or if you are looking for someone who fits into a certain description. However, for everyday general life, I feel that this is a good rule of thumb.

I know that this lesson will help me with my future relationships. It will remind me to have patience and understanding for other people, just as I require patience and understanding.

To happy and healthy relationships,

Deb ๐Ÿ’•

Medical Experience in Israel!!

Spent the day shadowing a physician (the only one in Israel with his exact specialty... and eventually mine✌๐Ÿป) in Israel’s largest hospital๐Ÿฅ! Gynecology with a focus on complementary and integrative functional medicine๐Ÿ’‰๐ŸŒฑ! Also will be seeing the cosmetic medical practice. Literally my dream๐Ÿ˜. Future Women’s Health and Aesthetics Nurse Practitioner right here๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿผ‍⚕️! Can’t wait to start this career (in the U.S. of course)๐Ÿค—

Also may I add that this entire experience was carried out in Russian and Hebrew only? If this isn’t making me “culturally competent” enough (all we ever spoke about in nursing school, and again thank G-d that’s long gone๐Ÿ™Œ๐Ÿป), then I don’t know what will๐Ÿ˜‰.
Two things that I have learned from this experience, besides for all the medical stuff:

1. When you leave your comfort zone and make an effort to move towards self improvement, the universe (or from my view, G-d) will bring you good things. Everything I want to practice in my future nursing career- I found the right people here to expose me to these topics. Could not have ever dreamed or even planned for this better than it played out. 

2. Leave it to Israelis to provide gourmet hospital food. Literally felt like I was in a restaurant. Have never seen such hospital food ever before. American hospitals, y’all need to step up your game.

ืจ‎ื‘ื™ืช ื—ื•ืœื™ื ืฉื™ื‘ื-ืชืœ ื”ืฉื•ืž

Thursday, October 11, 2018

That Time I Rode a Bus in Israel (Joys of Israel Series)

There are two experiences  I could have chosen to write about today. 
The supermarket and the bus.
Yes, that’s right. I refer to them as experiences. You will see why.

I was going to write about my supermarket experience, but since I’ve gotten so used to that insanity, I will need to wait for yet another experience there to inspire me all over again. 

And since I have just gotten off what is probably the most eventful and interesting bus ride I will ever (EVER) have, I am happy to share it. You as the reader can experience it vicariously through me (trust me, you should be very happy you are experiencing it vicariously). 

The main point of this post is to relay to you one very simple rule. Never (yes, absolutely never) take the mini bus out of the Old City in Jerusalem (if you ever decide to visit, which I highly reccomend  you do). Actually, scratch that. Never take any bus in Israel if you can manage somehow else.

It starts off with waiting. 

There is usually waiting involved. The 38 bus I have been waiting for finally comes and I prepare to get on. However, the bus driver decides to take a short break for about... I don't know... 30 minutes. The rest of the people at the bus stop and I wait patiently. 


Well, almost all of us wait patiently. 

You can always trust that there will be someone here to get things moving along. 
Or well at least try to. 

One of the men at the bus stop starts mumbling things to himself in Hebrew. He’s annoyed. So he decides to walk into the street and yell for the bus driver, who clearly is nowhere to be found. Finally the bus driver comes back from his getaway and takes another five minutes to open the door. Why? 
No reason. 

We all shove each other on that thing. Literally. We wait (again) for more people to pile on this bus. At this point, there is nowhere to move. Even some of the seats must be folded and can’t be used because the space is needed for standing. Somebody steps on my toe. Ow. 

There is clearly no more room on this bus. Whatsoever. Still, somehow, another three people manage to shove themselves on there. 

The three other American girls on the bus are speaking among themselves, trying to understand how this is going to work. They clearly haven't been here for very long.


Oh, it will work. One way or another. 


Everyone on this bus is late for something somewhere (thanks to the bus driver) and you know it because everyone is bickering about how they unfortunately decided to take the bus from the Old City at the most inconvenient time. 

The doors have finally shut, not allowing anymore crazies to get on this vehicle.  We are finally leavening.

Or so we thought.

We don’t get far. Actually, we barely even budge. We barely even budge because someone in front of us has decided to park in the middle of the road. So now we have a car creating traffic, our bus driver yelling at some guy (because when in doubt in Israel, just yell at someone. Anybody, really. They will understand because they do it all the time๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿป). The driver in front of us is yelling at our driver, for some reason. Literally, dude doesn't even step out oof his car. He sticks his head out the window and starts waving his hands in the air. The people on this bus with me are yelling. Not at anybody in particular- just yelling about being annoyed. 

The parked car finally moves and we are finally on our way. 

Just then one of the elderly woman decides she needs to sit. While we are driving on the unpaved road at 50 mph, this woman decides she wants to cross the span of the bus to get to a seat on the other side. A seat that is folded, mind you. Folded because there is no room to unfold it. 

But that doesn’t matter now, does it. 


So now we have ten people shuffling around trying to help this woman get to the other side. This easily could have been done before we started moving, but why make things easy? That wouldn’t be any fun.

At this point, my foot has been stepped on more times than I'd like to count.


We get to the first stop. Not one person has to get off here. Not one. On the contrary a couple of women decide to hop on. 

Understand how things work in this country. If you have some reason to be frustrated, aggravated, annoyed, upset... at any given situation... just know that whoever/whatever you are annoyed, angry, etc about/at... is going to express those exact same emotions as you. Just only with more intensity. 


So you would think the people who are already on this bus would be yelling at these people trying to squish themselves on. Well, you are right, then. They do yell at them. But those yells fall onto deaf ears. The women have already begun their raid of frustration at the people on the bus who won't move over for them (because they have no room to move over). 


Does this matter that there is no room?

No. 

Do three Israeli women overpower the 40-or-so people on this mini-bus?

You best believe. 

If I thought there was no air to breath or no room to move on this bus before... 


I could have surrendered the handlebar I was holding onto and have been fine. I wasn't flying anywhere now. There was nowhere to fly. 


Someone steps on my toe, yet again. 


These women jump onto this bus like it's nobody's business. Except it is, because all the other 40 of us have to make a joint effort to help them get on this thing. And the most interesting part is that they're screaming at the rest of us. Screaming at us to move over. Screaming at the bus driver for nearly closing the door on the foot. Screaming about how the baby carriage is taking up too much room. 


The door finally closes (without harming anyone's foot), the carriage is folded and the woman who was screaming about it is now cooing playfully to the baby, and we are on our way yet again. 


I'm laughing at this point. 


I'm laughing because nobody thought about this. Nobody thought about the details of riding this bus. Nobody considered how it just might not make so much sense to all gather on here together. Everyone decided to squish on this thing and then complain about it together. We had a choice. Or well, I was one of the first people on the bus so I was hopping on anyway- but for those who came on when they saw there was no room. They got themselves into this. They created this. And they were going to go through with it no matter how much of a struggle it was going to be. 


Finally my stop comes and I gratefully run off the bus. 


So happy to finally arrive.


Or well- at least to arrive to the next bus station where I will wait who knows how long for the next bus. 


Oh well, at least I've got some elbow room and the comfort of knowing that my toes won't suffer anymore. 


Grateful for the small things here. 


And I'm happy with just that. 

Thursday, September 27, 2018

No Such Thing As A Comfort Zone (Joys of Israel Series)


Song lyric: "ื™ื•ื ื˜ื•ื‘ ืœื ื• ื—ื’ ืฉืžื—" ("Our Good Day, Happy Holiday")! 

An interesting idea that I learned from an Aish class taught by Dov Bear (yes, THE Dov Bear- if you know, then you know) which I attended in Jerusalem last week. 

In Israel we are currently celebrating the holiday of Sukkot. In America, if you've seen little huts outsides of people's homes- that's for Sukkot. If you've seen strange men walking around with a giant asparagus and a lemon- that's for Sukkot. Weird, I know.

On this holiday, we are told to build a specific structure outside of our homes, and are required to eat and sleep in it.

First off, eating dinner the first night of the holiday... it was magical. We sat outside on the porch overlooking the mountains and could hear all of the other families in the area eating their dinner, talking, singing... On our way home, we could see all of the Sukkahs on the porches... lit up with lights and decorations. I felt like I was walking through a magical land written about in some storybook. I fell asleep to the sound of neighbors singing outside. Most nights I would consider this to be a nuisance, but not that night and definitely not here. 

Now to my main point... there was an interesting correlation that Dov Bear made between the commandment to build and sit in the Sukkah, and the idea of "leaving one's comfort zone."

He said that just as we leave the comfort of our homes, and carry out two important facets of our lives in the sukkah (eating and sleeping)... in life, we must remember that leaving one's comfort zone is something to be appreciated and integrated into our lives. He stated that this commandment is a reminder that we do not need to be stuck in our self definition or identify as who we used to be (when trying to grow). We are meant to change, and change only comes with movement. We must move ourselves from point A to point B- in every sense. We have to surrender to our fears and and give up our habits. We must get out of our comfort zones if we plan on growing as people. 

I was able to relate to this, especially since I am here in Israel, jumping into the unknown. If you would see how these Middle Eastern people drive or how they pack onto these buses (most of us standing while we are driving at a speed limit I am pretty sure is illegal in US neighborhoods). There is no such thing as comfort zone here. 


I've learned that leaving my comfort zone is the best thing I've ever done and now I may actually be looking forward to doing it yet again tomorrow when I ride yet another Israeli bus driving at an extremely dangerous speed๐Ÿ˜› (I really hope my mom doesn’t read this till the end, but if you have mom- ื”ื›ืœ ื‘ืกื“ืจ)☺️

Longest Day Ever (Joys of Israel Series)

Today was a crazy day. 

Started at 6am. Woke up early to get to the Kotel so that I can see Birchat Kohanim- the priestly blessing. Thousands of people. Rooftop overseeing it all (thanks to my early start I got one of the best views). People on the edges of buildings just to get a better view of the scene. You can hear a pin drop the moment they started reciting the verses. 
In the Old City 
Then I headed over to the Moshav Music Festival. We had no idea how to get there, but somehow did. People of all ages passionately dancing to music which the grandmother in the crowd could relate to… as well as the yeshiva students and little kids. Seriously, though… there were people of all ages dancing together. I’m pretty sure this is the only music festival of this kind. Striking a conversation with a woman next to me in line for falafel, and her then inviting me to her house for shabbat. Only in Israel. 

I’m exhausted at this point. My feet have walked about 6 miles so far (ends up being 8 by the time I get home), and I have been in the sun since I left my dorm at 7am. For some unknown reason I still decide to adventure into one more Chol Hamoed activity. I head over to the rabbi’s sukkah and end up staying for 4 hours. I’m basically sleep walking at this point. Then I have to run around Ben Yehuda for an hour trying to find the correct bus that will take me home (still have yet to master the transportation here), and finally call it quits at 2:30am. 
I’ve never felt the desire to take so many live videos. Today was a special day- one filled with lots of energy and celebration with so many people who I don’t even know. 

Today was a perfect day. 

Saturday, September 22, 2018

First Week In Israel (Joys of Israel Series)

It has only been a week since this adventure started, but it feels like it has been a month. 

First off, it is still unbelievable to me that I am here. Though I have been planning this trip for months, I am still in awe of simply being here. This country means so much to me. I feel so blessed and fortunate to be able to be here. 


A lot of people think coming here was simple. People think it's like running away from real life to take a break from reality. Though this opportunity is something which I am obviously enjoying, I wouldn't say it's easy. If anything, it's extremely challenging. 


For starters, everything here is on a much smaller scale and much less "comfortable." The comforts I enjoy in the US are definitely not a given here. I live in a dorm (though with awesome people), have to share a bathroom and room. I have to use a communal laundry machine, which honestly is sort of gross (especially the one here, thanks to some uncleanly people). Even my bed. The mattress (to put it nicely) sucks. I can't comfortably sit on it like I do at home. I have to keep my toiletries and makeup in my room. My closet space is minimal. I have to take public transportation everywhere, which makes me feel like an old Russian grandmother in Brooklyn. People can be rude, overcharge you because you don't know the prices anyway. You get shoved by people all day because they don't have a word for "excuse me." Everythign here is extremely expensive, and there are few options when tryign to make purchases (in the US we have options galore). Whereas here we have bugs galore. Bugs in our rooms, bathrooms, kitchen area (which I wouldn't dare to use because it's just as bad as the laundry room. 


The list goes on and on. 


But I'm more afraid of leaving than I am of staying. And I have 6 months here (minimum- I'll probably end up staying 9), yet I fear the day I will have to leave. 



At the Western Wall right before Yom Kippur
I spent the day in the Old City of Jerusalem. Every year I watch the same video of crowds of people standing by the Western Wall. It’s the place to be. This year, not only did I get to see it live, but I got to be a part of it. If I were alone, with no one around me- I think I would have cried. I hate crying, and I would have cried like a baby. The scene, the people, the passion, the reality of it all... it's so personal and spiritual and heart warming. 

On our way back to campus from the Old City, I quietly sat and looked out the bus window. For 25 hours, the country sat still. Even the air space was closed. Roads were empty. Highways were silent. And I felt anxious. Peaceful and enlightened, but anxious as well.

Because of this fear of having to leave, of not being able to grasp all of it. This fear of letting go of it all, of not getting to see this every day. 

There is just something about being here. Today I think I came to find the words that sum it up. 

Community. Belonging. Family. Together. History. 

This state, this country... it's part of our definition as a people. As a people with the longest history. 
And the price that we have had to pay for it. 

Just last week, right before Yom Kippur- a man by the name of Ari Fuld was murdered. He was murdered by a Palestinian teenager. He was murdered because he was a Jew. People will say what they want about Israel, what it is, it's creation, it's current state. At the end of the day, the murder here is for one reason and one reason only: Anti-Semitism. 

Here we are getting murdered for owning less than 1% of the Middle East. Here we are getting murdered in a land that we payed for, fought for, built up. Here we are getting killed for creating a home because we were kicked out of all of our previous homes (including this one, which actually was our first home- I know, doesn't make any sense). Here we are getting killed for not allowing ourselves to be killed off. 

It's been an emotional time for me personally (being here, getting adjusted), but also for us on a national level. Our people are mourning yet another stolen soul, yet another soul removed from us. Another piece of our hearts are broken off. 

A whole community, a whole nation come together to remember the impact this man had on our people. 

 - - - - - - -
Of course this journey starts off with a familiar face, meeting someone you know through other people you know- it's just the way it always works out. You go your separate ways at the airport once you make it into the country but you know every direction here is really the same direction nontheless. All one and the same spirit, yet the differences will make you question how this place exists all in one piece as it is. 

A couple of natives casually scream at each other while I hold back my laughs. They ask you where you're going in a language you don't completely know, yet you somehow answer quickly enough not to feel stupid. Some people mumble something to you and you know that's your cue to get out of their way.  

We ride through the Middle Eastern desert, which doesn't look so much like a desert. It's the land of milk and honey. We get there by half a miracle, for the drivers here aren't really drivers- they're just making up the rules as they go. Drive in the middle of 2 lanes? Sure. Park on the sidewalk? No problem. Almost get into a three-vehicle collision (bus, car, and motorcycle- true story)? Why not? 

This ain't Jersey.

Go to the open market to get some fresh food. Which by the way sometimes comes with little bugs too. Like I said- bugs galore. 

Still waiting to get shoved by an old lady wearing a head scarf. Happens every time I’m here and it always throws me off. This time I won't be confused. It'll be more like a, "you can't surprise me because I've been looking forward to this."

It's going to happen, I promise. And when it does, I'll be ecstatic because it's my official welcome ๐Ÿ™‚

I'll be prepared to live the hectic New York City life when I get back. 

Heck, I'll be more than ready. 

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Before the Beginning

I have had many beginnings in the past several years. 
As we all have had- in our own ways.
This one, I think, is the best one yet.

Over the next several months, I will be traveling to Israel and delving into the wisdom of ancient texts. I will be immersed in a culture and environment of self-development and growth. I will be improving on two of the three languages which I speak/write/read (Russian and Hebrew). I will be working for an organization whose mission statement itself is a personal passion of mine. I will be scouring the open market, getting shoved by elderly women on public transportation (has happened before and I am only waiting for it to happen again), admitting sheepishly that I don't speak the local language well enough to actually have a conversation. When I ask for directions in Hebrew, that's all I know!!! I can't actually understand the directions you give me in Hebrew. 


There is always that time period before the actual "adventure" begins. I just finished my internship, prepping my phone service and luggage, getting in all those doctor appointments, trying to figure out if I have any issues I should face now while in the country where I can actually formulate incomprehensible sentences the issues that must be dealt with๐Ÿ˜…. Saying goodbye to friends, who are also moving on in their own directions. They are going West and I am going East. This part of the experience is easiest yet hardest in several ways. Easiest because you haven't yet jumped out of your airplane. Hardest because you're itching to get out.



What makes me happiest is that I have made an atypical decision. I am doing the not-so-standard thing. I am doing something that I know I will never have the opportunity to do again. If I want this opportunity ever, then I better grab it. So I did. 

You know those little postcards you see on Pinterest or those adventurous lines in poems that refer to taking chances and doing things that scare the sh*t out of you? Well, this is my postcard. This is my poem. 


I am on my way to unknown things.