Working hard and playing hard

Haven’t posted in a while. What can I say, things have been busy. It kind of feels like real life (GASP). And the more time that passed, the harder it got to sit down and write. But I was bed-ridden with some horrible disease last week, so I figured it was a good time to start.

Passover Break at Silent Arrow was great, although it was much different than I expected. Each night we were packed to capacity, and then some. Our final night there, we actually exceeded the previous occupancy record, with a whopping 87 people. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t the relaxing quiet experience I had in January. It was frantic and chaotic, with angry Israeli children screaming and even angrier Israeli parents stubbornly arguing against the rules.

There was this one group on Passover that refused to leave the following day until nightfall, because that was "work" and it was a holiday. They wouldn’t even move their stuff out of the dormitory tent so that we could clean it! They were argumentative and nasty, and they deliberately chucked cigarettes everywhere and let their kids throw food all over the place. Late in the afternoon, as the next night’s guests had begun to arrive, Noah and I actually had to sit inside the tent and make sure their kids didn’t make their way back in with their food, playdough, and other messy things.

On the other hand, a lot of groups were really cool. I had some of the deepest conversations with Israelis yet, because now after a few months in this country I have more background and context to understand things.

And we had free time every other morning, so I did some rad hikes into the crater and explored new territory. The April nights, while still cold, were not as frigid as January, so we made a few delicious poyke pot meals. I’d never heard of this until I got here — it’s basically a big cast-iron kettle bell that you throw ingredients into and simmer over a fire pit. Mannn it was good. Indeed, unlike Kathi, who ate like a sparrow and avoided meat, Noah was a great "man” partner. We cooked huge, hearty meals, talked a lot of shit, and generally had a grand old time.

Dror hired a young girl from town to do the laundry and make the beds in the private domes, which was a huge help. Her name was Maayan and she was really cool. She would get very irritated and flustered with our antics, and often said, “I’m going to KILL you.” And we tried to practice our hebrew with her, even though she said we sounded like we were two years old. She would get frustrated with us and would say, “when you try and speak hebrew, you get this look in your eye, and it makes me CRAZY!”  By the end of the week, we felt like she was our younger sister.

And although it was so crazy and so exhausting, there were little moments here and there, glimmers of the true Silent Arrow. Sometimes it was an afternoon when everyone was gone, and we relaxed on the couch, sometimes it was at night when the groups were all really cool and came together to talk and eat by the fire and play music, and sometimes it was just sitting outside of Dror's room to escape from the madness, drinking a cup of tea, watching the peaceful valley in the distance. I'm glad Noah got to experience these moments.

One woman who was staying a few nights with her family named Anat put it very well: “It’s fitting to celebrate the Jewish holiday of freedom, by choosing to be a slave for the week.”

I had asked Dror to set us up with a family in town for a traditional Israeli passover seder, but he is such a spacecase and misunderstood me, and actually hooked us up with the Rabbi in town - the Chabad Rabbi! Noah and I showed up in our dirty, tattered clothes, our filthy shirts tucked into our stained jeans, our messy unwashed hair showing through our keepahs. At first we were intimidated, but the Rabbi and his family were very welcoming. And it was actually an open community seder, so there were many secular people there. The seder ended up being really fun, the food was delicious, and we got to interact with some cool Israelis.

There was actually one girl sitting at our table, who was from the north but is working in Mitzpe Ramon. She was super cute and seemed like she was into Noah, so I whispered, “Dude, you should get her digits!” But when we asked for her number, we realized we were in trouble: We were at a Chabad Seder on Passover, so we weren’t allowed to use our phones and couldn’t write anything down! So Noah and I each memorized 5 of the digits!



Noah and I got really close with two young Israelis, Hagay and Rivka. (Hagay was traveling solo, and Rivka was friends with a family also staying at Silent Arrow). They invited Noah for a quick hike into the crater, and since it was the quiet point of the day, I figured it was fine. Well, a few hours passed and I started to get worried. But Noah texted me that they had gotten a bit turned around, and he’d be back shortly. A few more hours, and it was evening. Then Rivka called to tell us they were in Dimona (1.5 hours away by car) and they were trying to get back. But at least they were out of the desert. After a super stressful night dealing with all the guests by myself and going to sleep, I awoke to Noah returning at 3 am!!

I heard the full crazy story the following morning: They had made a wrong turn on the path and continued walking for a while in the wrong direction. Then some Israelis on a jeep trip picked them up and took them to the next road (but in the wrong direction), where there was supposed to be a bus station. Of course there was no bus station, so they hitch-hiked to the nearest town. They were going to take a bus back, but it was so late that they would have missed the connecting bus in Beer Sheva. Luckily, they made friends with a police officer who took them to the station, and organized a caravan in which police cars drove them to the edge of unit's jurisdiction, where they were picked up by another police car, then another, until they got back.

It just goes to show, you can’t mess around in the desert. They ran out of water and were in danger of heat stroke, and they could have faced a night out there if they hadn’t been picked up. But I’ll admit, I’m jealous of their adventure. Makes for a great story.

—

Since Passover, things have been kind of routine. Remember Adi, the girl I mentioned in my last entry from the Dialogue Seminar, who was my fellow “lefty” in our discussions against the right-wingers of the group? Well, we started dating. She’s amazing and sweet and smart, and has taught me so much about Israeli culture, politics, and society. We’ve been exploring Tel Aviv together, me relying on her to give me the inside track, and she enjoying seeing her own city through my eyes. But she hasn’t been strict enough with my Hebrew learning, and lets me slide into English too easily :)

I’ve been exploring different parts of Tel Aviv on the weekends - the endless expanse of Hayarkon Park, the narrow alleyways of the Hatikva Shuk lined with delicious Iraqi and Yemeni cafes, the blend of Israeli and Arab culture in Yafo.

I’ve also been trying to drill deeper into some of the friendships I’ve made here. It’s hard, because I continue to meet so many cool new people, but at some point I need to focus on deepening the existing relationships I’ve established. There have been a couple Israeli guys who I’ve really connected with. That said, though, I also want to strengthen the friendships with people in my program. So it’s a balancing act!!

I’m still enjoying LR Group. They made me the point-man on a proposal for a community farming project in Suriname, and although it was sometimes stressful and frustrating, I learned a lot and I think the final product was good. They’re also involving me more in the financial modeling aspect of projects. I’m learning a lot.

It’s crazy how LR group works in so many countries which don’t recognize Israel. They have a subsidiary that’s registered in Cypress, and they just use that subsidiary whenever they need to cover their true identity. If the clients googled the name of the subsidiary, or the names of any of the staff, it would be obvious that LR Group is Israeli. But the thin veil works, because the clients know there’s money to be made.

Israeli industry and technology, whether in agriculture, hi-tech, or security, is the best in the world. People want the best, and that’s one reason why the boycott of Israeli goods hasn’t been so effective.

---

I have six weeks left on my program. It’s gone by so quickly. I’m approaching decision time. Even though I’m fairly certain I don’t want to stay here forever, it’s still confusing. On one hand, I’d love to continue my experience here, maybe another year. I have the rest of my life to settle down and plant roots. But on the other hand, I’m starting to feel tired of traveling light. I feel a strong desire to establish myself in North Carolina, get on the career trajectory again and start the clock on the residency requirements for in-state grad schools.

Tel Aviv is amazing, but the qualities that make the city so desirable (and expensive) — the beach, the night life, the cafe culture — don’t appeal to me at all. (Seriously, Tel Aviv has a seemingly limitless supply of chic, classy bars with sweet vibes and chill atmospheres. There are so many! Even for someone like me who doesn’t like going out, I’m drawn in by these amazing spots. But I just can’t understand how people go out so often here and pay $10+ per drink, especially when salaries are so low compared to the USA.)

And because public transit doesn’t operate on Shabbat, it’s really hard to escape from the city unless you own a car. If you don’t plan things out ahead of time, Shabbat can easily steal three quarters of your weekend. It’s suffocating.

After traveling far and wide, I’ve realized what I want at this point is simple: To work at a cool job in preparation for grad school, to go mountain biking and camping on the weekends, and to be driving-distance from my parents, who I miss. 

And besides that, I just don’t feel like this place is my home. I feel such a strong connection to the Jewish nation, but I’m a visitor here; I don't feel permanent. The analogy I thought of is like a (hypothetical) guest at the house of a (hypothetical) aunt and uncle and cousins, who are wonderful beautiful people that I love unconditionally, even though they're a little nutty, and really dysfunctional, and kind of racist. And although I’d do anything for them, when dinner’s over I want to go home.

Plus, unlike Jews from any other country in the world, I’m an American Jew, who — by living in America — can use my vote and influence to ensure America’s support for Israel, and even help to motivate Israel’s behavior regarding peace. Adi calls BS on this line of thinking, but I truly believe it. Israel needs young pro-Israel Americans like me, in America.

And I feel confidence and surety about these convictions, until I walk down Rothschild Street in the early weekday mornings, and I see all these young Israeli dads walking their kids to school, holding their hands or pushing them on little trikes, and just generally being such fricking good dads. The kind of dad I would like to be.

Or until people from the office bring their kids to work (because it’s one of the bajillion Jewish holidays that I didn’t know about so the kids don’t have school) and I see these people who I’ve come to know and respect, who are tirelessly working not just for their children’s future but also for their country’s.

Or until I go with my friend Shir to a bonfire party for Lag VaOmer (a holiday where people literally just go outside and burn stuff, i.e. my new favorite holiday ever), and drink a few beers and sing along to Hebrew songs, and watch as these young Israelis smile and laugh and dance, and I have this overwhelming feeling that we’re all the same, that we’re all one, and after 3,000 years we’re finally free, finally safe, finally home.

Then I think, maybe I will stay a little longer. Or forever.

—

Anyway. I’m reading a really interesting book called My Promised Land by Ari Shavit. The author is a little bombastic and blustering, often speaking in platitudes, but it’s a great primer on Israel’s social history throughout the decades and the nuances of the conflict. And it’s made me realize just how crazy it is that this young little country even exists. I realize now that, after 3,000 years of history, I’m alive during what is arguably the most tumultuous century the Jewish people have ever seen.

My Crossfit gym is doing a workout once per week where we do our 20 rep max of back squat. The past 6 weeks I've improved 2.5 kilos each week up to 82.5 kilos. It may be the singular most painful thing I've ever done. It's a journey each time. At rep ten, I take a ten second break and catch my breath, but then the coach yells at me to start back up. Around rep 12, I wonder if I'll ever want to exercise again. At rep 16, I see my spirit animal, who gently encourages me to keep going. Then it's over, and it's bliss.

My office gave me a gift basket for Passover! They're so sweet. 

Office Passover Party  

Incredible view of the trail behind me, as I hike up to the field school in the Ramon Crater 

Some kids playing soccer at Silent Arrow as evening falls 

Beautiful view of Mitzpe Ramon on Erev Pesach, seen from Silent Arrow. Did you know that many Jewish Holidays fall on a full moon? 

The hike in the Crater took me through a dry river bed. A little greenery surrounded by desolate desert...

Some sea shell fossils seen on a walk in the hills around Silent Arrow. Remnants of pre-history 

Noah's face when we learned we were going to a Seder at the ultra-orthodox Chabad rabbi's house. No way they would accept all the unkosher food we cooked! 

Another photo from the hike in the crater

Dror's beautiful daughters 

Maayan made us these amazing dreamcatchers as going-away gifts! 

My first attempt at shakshuka. I don't like my shakshuka too tomato-saucey, and I think this turned out really well! 

PENGUINS X'ING.  On some days, the ultra-orthodox get bussed to a certain segment of beach, where they have a section of sand blocked off to protect their modesty. But they also completely commandeer the bike path, slowing my evening bike commute to a snail's pace. Seriously, they park their strollers and even have picnics right on the path, like they own it. I get my revenge by 1) taking off my shirt and getting my tan on as I ride, certainly to their tsk tsk's, and 2) speeding toward them and laughing as they dive out of the way (not really)...(but sometimes actually yes) 

I've also been making bomb babaganoush.  Trying to master some Israeli cooking while I'm here :) 

Our friend Rivka, (the girl who got lost with Noah) found this adorable kitten in the street and took it in! 

Our program has had some amazing events. This is the Yom Hashoa ceremony at Yad Vashem in Jerusalem. It was super exclusive and we were there, listening to Bibi and Peres speak! We also heard from a survivor and did an interesting workshop about Holocaust denial.  

Adi took me to the shuk in the Hatikvah neighborhood. It was nice because the walkway is much wider than the one near me, but also because this one has beautiful winding alleys lined with delicious little Yemeni and Iraqi restaurants

The Yom Hazikaron ceremony in Rabin Square. It was a really somber and moving ceremony. Twice during the day, they sound a siren and everyone in the country stops what they're doing and just stands respectfully. Even cars on the highway! 

...But the day after Yom Hazikaron is Yom Ha'atzma'ut, Israeli Independence day. It's crazy how the whole country goes from grief to celebration in one day. The streets were filled with people celebrating! I went to an awesome barbecue with some Israeli friends the following day. But I also learned that Palestinians celebrate the holiday in a different way. Called Nakba day, it translates directly to "Day of the Catastrophe," to commemorate their displacement from their homeland. One holiday, two completely different perspectives. 

Ultra-orthodox guy dancing on top of a van blasting electronic music. Welcome to Israel. 

The bonfire for Lag Va-Omer. It was a fun party, although a lot of people didn't come because Macabee Tel Aviv won the European Basketball championship on the same night! 

Rothschild Street in the morning 

We went to a Masa Event called Israeli culture night. It was fantastic. First we had small sessions with prominent artists. I got to hear from Shlomy Saban, a famous rock-pianist. He told some great stories and played a few of his best songs. Then we all saw a beatbox-acapella group called Voca, and they were great too. 

Sunset on the beach as I ride my bike home from work 

Adi and I went to Jerusalem last weekend, just to chill and wander around. It was my first time in the city without a guided tour or a planned program. This is a beautiful neighborhood overlooking the Old City, right above the Artists' Colony. 

On our way to the Western Wall, we randomly happened upon a parade for the arrival of the Head Priest of the Greek Orthodox Church, visiting to meet the Pope.

Following the parade to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We stuck out like a sore thumb among all these Christian Arabs, but felt totally safe the whole time. 

We took a tour of the Musrara Neighborhood in Jerusalem. It's a gorgeous but historically-fraught area: located right on the 1948 border, the neighborhood was originally Arab until its residents were expelled by the Israelis during the war. During the next two decades, Israel was flooded with immigrants and there was a severe housing shortage, so this neighborhood was used to house immigrants -- and almost all were Sephardic Jews. These people had to endure years of exposure to sniper fire from Jordanians across the border, and neglect from the government, while the Ashkenazi immigrants from Eastern Europe received preferential housing. 

Cool outdoor stationary bikes in the old Russian Compound in Jerusalem  

The sun sets as the crowds pour in for Shabbat at the Western Wall 

Another photo in Musrara. See that little kid pointing the toy gun at us? Kind of eerie, in this particular neighborhood with this historical context.  

Musrara 

So, it was the Civil Rights era in America, and the Sephardim in Musrara started a Black Panthers group. Some youths were peacefully protesting, and were thrown in jail. When deputy ministers visited the youths and reported that they seemed like reasonable people just looking for a fair shake, Prime Minister Golda Meir retorted back, "They're not nice." This became a rallying cry, and when Menachem Begin ushered in better conditions for the people of Musrara, they commemorated the slogan by naming a street alley! 

This is the Church of the Visitation, in Ein Karem. We visited this beautiful Jerusalem neighborhood because all the cafes and restaurants were open even on Shabbat. As Adi explained, "the Horadi (Ultra-orthodox) haven't gotten to it yet." 

Me and Adi at Ein Karem 

We went to the Student Day at Tel Aviv University. It was unreal -- three stages, a silent disco, food booths lining the promenades. It was way more than a university concert -- it was fully in the realm of music festival! Here we have great spots near the stage for my favorite Israeli music artist, Muki!