Shalom Chaverim,

 

Today is Friday, April 17th. It is 8:30 in the morning on a rare type of morning where the sky is grey but i get up anyway. There is much to catch you all up on. First off, let me apologize for my lack of communication recently. We went on a big trip and only returned to the Kibbutz late Wednesday night, so there has been a serious lack of computer access. But once again my laptop and I are reunited. Now I'll start the actual entry..

 

I officially have a new stamp in my passport! Exciting introduction for a not so exciting subject (that came out the wrong way, I think. It's not that the subject isn't interesting, it's just not something you're meant to get excited about). Anyway, for those of you who have no clue what it is I'm talking about, EIE recently took our pilgrimage to Poland. We use the word pilgrimage lightly here. We did so much in seven days there, it's hard for me to pinpoint it all in my mind. Sad, because it happened like a week and a half ago. Anyhow, the"journey" (as our staff insisted on our calling it) was led as a Jewish History tiyul (which means trip....Our staff is a confused bunch) So we went there with the goal of learning Jewish History. We spent at least half of each day (besides Shabbat) learning about a Jewish community that used to live in the area. We spent time in Krakow, Warsaw, Tikochin, and other areas that I wouldn't be able to spell if I tried. Those days were light. We saw where the houses were, the body of water where the women washed the clothes, we talked about Torah study and the houses of worship-we saw so many old synagogues. It was strange to see such beauty in a place I would never have expected it.  The synagogues were absolutely gorgeous-some had prayers painted on the walls, prayers everywhere. We visited both Ashkenazi and  Sephardic synagogues, and the differences were surprising. In Ashkenazi synagogues, the bima is in the front, with the congregation sitting in pews facing it. In Sephardic synagogues, the bima is in the center-it's kind of strange, but quite cool. So anyway, we saw some beautiful places where Judaism thrived pre-holocaust, and then proceeded to see what happened to the populations that lived there. 

 

The first major sad part of our journey was our visit to Tikochin. We learned a lot about the town, and talked about the culture that used to be there, and then got on a busride where we were told to sit in silence the entire time. I spent it looking out the windows at miles and miles of dead farmland under grey sky. There was very little sun, and barely any green grass. The only green in the area was a pine tree here and there-the houses all looked like shanties, no matter how large or new they were. I didn't see any people on the roads, or any in the houses. It looked like death. After about twenty minutes or so, the bus turned down a dirt road which ended at the entrance to a large forest. The woods were beautiful-the trees were tall and skinny, with dark green needles covering the branches and the ground. It smelled nice and there was a little sun. I knew immediately that there would be something terrible at the end of our walk. There is no natural beauty that is untainted in Poland. We followed our teachers through the forest until in the distance we could see some tree-less areas with Israeli flags. I saw yarzheit candles (the ones you light in memory of someone who has died) surrounding these three squares there. As our classes silently made our way to each square respectively, my thoughts were racing. Before we had gotten onto the bus, as we were leaving the area where the Jewish community had lived, BG, one of the Jewish History teachers had asked us for a silent busride as we were "heading to the end of the story of the Jews of Tikochin". What could have happened at these squares? We stood around the area in silence staring at candles until BG spoke. He told us that the Jews of Tikochin had been rounded up in the middle of the night, taken a ride on the same route we had just taken and arrived in the forest. They dug the pit we stood before and were then all shot and buried there. We were standing in front of one of three mass graves in the middle of a beautiful forest in Poland. In front of our feet lied the bones of so many-in these places, the ground was bumpy and the trees refused to grow. I thought hard about the symbolism of trees and what the lack of them meant. In Judaism trees are a sign of life. Walking through the forest there, the breath of life which had originally greeted us was overwhelming as we saw all the trees. Those pits, though-there's something eerie about how the trees still don't grow. It's as though they know what would be beneath their roots.

 

The rest of the trip went similarly to this. I don't really want to write about each part right now- I guess you could say that I'm not interested in going through the emotions I felt during it ever again. Well at least not so soon. I’ll just tell you a quick highlight.

 

It was a moment of symbolism. On the next-to-last day in Poland, Shuster and Josh and I led Mincha services (early evening/afternoon) in a small synagogue we were visiting. The readings had all been written by participants, and the service followed the general theme of internal power of the Jewish people. The synagogue it took place in was called "People who study Mishna (in Hebrew, Chaverim lomdim Mishna)- the synagogue was a place where hardcore, true believers came to pray and study. Through WW2, it had been desecrated and since restored. The service was wonderful. I stood on the bima with one of the closest friends I have, leading over 100 young Jews in the prayers which so many of our family members and their friends died for. I can't fully explain the feelings I had in that synagogue. There I realized how strong the Jewish people are-how strong they were during the Holocaust, and how strong they continue to be today. I felt overwhelming pride there. My friends chanted, sang, and bowed in ways that I am sure Jews here once had. It felt something like a homecoming, I guess. The service closed with the song “Am Yisrael Chai”-“the people of Israel live”. This vision struck me hard-I’m sure it will  for a long time. Picture it: 118 Young Jews and their teachers pouring out all that they felt about the Holocaust into “Am Yisrael Chai” while dancing through a synagogue that didn’t perish under Nazi occupation. I don’t think I have ever felt so alive in my life.  The sight was so beautiful. I can still hear us singing if I think about it-we must have echoed through the whole town-we were so spirited. If I got nothing else out of the Poland trip, I believe that the sound of “Am Yisrael Chai” resounding in my ears would be enough.

 

Hey everyone, long time no talk! I suppose I'll start by apologizing for my terrible communication skills thus far. I have no valid excuses besides being busy beyond belief (hey mrs. siviglia, like my alliteration?). A few hours ago, we returned from our 10 day trip off of the Kibbutz to various awesome places. I've been cooped up in the Zula with my computer and Rob (Kagan), working on our letters of intent and speech stuff for upcoming elections for our NFTY Region. Very nerve wracking and exciting, but we both just finished-thank goodness. I was getting really stressed out. 

We left on February 18th from the Kibbutz for a super awesome adventure. On the super awesome adventure, we did many an exciting thing. I’m being really not descriptive, I apologize. (that wasn’t even the correct order of words for an English sentence. Hebrew and Spanish are actually messing with my mind.) Anyway, on the first part of our trip we stayed in a youth hostal at the base of Masada. Now, Masada is quite possibly one of the most interesting locations we’ll visit in our Jewish History class. I don’t know if you guys know anything about what happened at Masada, so I suppose this is where my Jewish History knowledge is put to the test. Here goes nothing. 

            Somewhere around 70 C.E, Alexander the Great was off conquering all the neighboring lands and introducing Hellenism to all that he encountered (and conquered). The Jews at this point were split into four different sects, each group with a different perspective on Hellenism. The Saducees (spelling doesn’t count) adopted Hellenism, The Pharisees adapted their practices to it, The Essenes avoided it, and the Zealots were against it. The Zealots were a rowdy bunch and staged a great and violent revolt in defiance of the Hellenistic culture. Coincidentally, this event is often referred to by historians as The Great Revolt. After this violent and bloody uprising against Alexander the Great’s officials, they fled up Masada (an enormous mountain in the area which seemed fit for living and hiding on top of). Masada was, at the time, inhabited by a unit of the Roman army, which the Zealots subsequently attacked at night and killed (with stubby swords, as the story goes). The Zealots took the Roman settlement and made it their own, turning the bathhouses into mikvehs (ritual baths) and creating a synagogue as well as dwelling places for their families. A few years of comfortable life pass for the Jews until one day the Romans return to finish what they started years ago in killing off the Jews. They broke down the walls of the settlement but did not enter. The 900 some-odd Jews living inside were struck with a dilemma whose resolutions were few in number. They could remain on Masada, and not fight, allowing the Romans to pass as they pleased (peacefully or violently, they couldn’t predict). They could fight, making their relationship with the Romans even more terrible than ever. Instead, the hundreds of Jews living on Masada came to a drastic decision: to die as free Jews. They chose to kill themselves before the Romans could. So 900 someodd people drew a lottery and each person helped another in assisted suicide until all who lived on Masada no longer lived.

            Crazy story, no? Anyhow, we stayed in a youth hostal at the base of the mountain for two nights. On the first night, we woke up at 4 in the morning for an early hike up the mountain. It took between 1 hour and 2 hours, depending on how quickly you walked. I stayed in the back, so it was a lengthy hike-but a beautiful one. My friend Danielle legitimately puked like 8 times. Not a joke. It was kind of impressive. The view was incredible. We could see mountains all around us and the clouds begin to change from the colors of the night sky to those of the morning sky. By the time we reached the top, where all the historical business had taken place, the sun had risen and we were bathed in warm sunlight. I have an inkling that the feeling I got when reaching the top must have been similar to that of the Zealots when they first arrived. What joy it is, to reach the end of something grueling and unfortunate (like a rebellion, or a disgustingly long walk up a mountain). The view was breathtaking. Literally. Unfortunately, my lungs decided to play a nasty joke on me and have an asthma attack right when we started our intensely meaningful t’fillah on the mountain. There are my classmates, smiling and crying, contemplating life and Judaism, chanting words that have been chanted for hundreds of years by hundreds of thousands of people, and suddenly through the hushed whispers you hear coughing. My asthma only kicks in at obnoxious times. The rest of the day was uneventful as we traipsed through the area which was originally a palace belonging to King Herod (I’ll talk about him some other time), and then became a settlement for the Roman soldiers, and THEN was where the Zealots lived (and died at their own hands). We saw some pretty sweet buildings and things. We left later that day (SURPRISE! There is a ramp that goes down the back of the mountain which legitimately only takes 20 minutes to leave by. This, of course, angers me because the long, scenic route took us two hours) Anyway.

We left, spent another day at the hostel, and then went onto the next part of our adventure: a five day experience called Gadna. Gadna is the precursor to the IDF; it’s essentially Israeli Army boot camp. All Israeli teenagers go for a week while in high school to get a taste of how their army experience will be.

Let me tell you something. Gadna is nothing like you want it to be. You want to feel like a soldier? NO. You want to feel like a boy scout? NO. YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO.  The army is not something I get along well with. I'm not phrasing any of this very well. I would describe what we did during the day at Gadna, but I'm having trouble recalling actual activities...besides cleaning the kitchen and rolling up the edges of our tents. All the commanders (m'fakdim) spoke to us entirely in hebrew, and in each group there was a translator or two (really just another participant who is fluent or partially fluent in Hebrew).  We spent all our time in a tzevet (group) of 12 girls. We spent pretty much all of our time at Gadna together, and ended up getting really close and learning to get along with each other. We ran around (literally) in two lines most of the time. We were told to do such things quietly, but we clearly don't listen well and don't know how to shut our mouths. Uh...what else can I tell you about Gadna? 

       First and foremost, we wore the same uniforms for five days. The same disgusting green pants and shirts with disgusting green coats. I didn't shower for five days. Raunch-fest, no? It was actually fairly repulsive. I didn't touch my hair from the moment we got there-I was afraid to. Our uniforms were hand-me-downs from actual soldiers in the army. One of the first things we were told when we arrived on the base was that "each uniform has a story, as each soldier does." Although the week didn't really feel like the army to me, this was one of the things that stuck with me and reminded me that for many of the other participants, this week was a taste of the experience they would have in the future. During the week we did a lot of preparation for the day on which we would visit the shooting range. All the m'fakdim carried M-16s around with them (which is actually not as strange to see as it would seem. On all the trips we take, our security guards (one for each group) carry an M-16, and I've seen each of our counselors carry them at least once. Many soldiers that you see off of bases, like in Jerusalem, carry M-16s also. It's actually not as scary as it sounds.) So we spent much of the week taking lessons about weapons, learning their history and why each weapon was used during which time period. It was somewhat interesting, but a little upsetting as well. The Israeli military is called the IDF: the Israeli DEFENSE Force. The officers pride themselves as being part of an army that is different from all other armies-one that acts only in defense, and uses violence only as a last resort. The commanders are constantly telling us that the army is a positive force-they don't rely on weapons, and only use them when another's life is in danger. So the fact that much of our time spent in the bootcamp for the Israeli army was focused on weaponry was sort of frustrating. Our time at the shooting range was interesting. We were all given the chance to fire 11 bullets from an M-16 at a target assigned to us. I opted out of the experience, and I have yet to regret this. I never want to have the power that holding that gun would give me. I'll go into further detail at another time, as this post is already becoming a sort of novel in itself.

After we left Gadna, we were bussed to Eilat, which is a boring vacation time on the shore of The Sea of Reeds. It was beautiful, but fairly boring. We went snorkeling in Eilat, which was awesome but the water was too cold for me to enjoy the sea cucumbers and beautiful coral beneath us. I saw a parrot fish, which was pretty awesome. It reminded me of how much I love biology. (I hope you can hear this, TJohnson) . 

After Eilat, we returned to the Kibbutz. It felt like coming home. I like that. Monday was a full and uneventful day of school, yesterday was very much the same. Today we went on a full-day tiyul (trip) to Beit Guvrin, which is where the caves that the Jews lived in during the Bar Kochba rebellion. It would've been cooler if I hadn't been crawling through the tunnels directly in front of the only claustrophobic person in my Jewish History class. She literally screamed the whole way through. I'm not sure if you know how loud things are in caves, but I'm sure you can imagine a scream in a small dark space. Not fun. After crawling through caves, we went to the valley which is recorded to have been the location of David's fight with Goliath. Besides that, the valley is also exciting for another reason (which only interested me and no one else who was around me, as lame as that makes me sound). There are these sweet purple flowers that only bloom in this three week period during the year, and that happens to be right now! They're really beautiful and stand up straight like wheat but the petals are rounded and fold up tall. The view from the hill was incredible. It was a perfect end to my day.

Tomorrow we have a tiyul about the history of Christianity, so we're going to visit a bunch of churches and old chapels and things. I'm really really excited. For lunch we're going to Abu Gosh, which is an Arab village in the area which apparently has the BEST food anywhere. I'm also excited for lunch time. The morning's excitement will make up for the rest of a boring day of General Studies classes upon our return to the Kibbutz. I'm so not pumped for my first history test. If i don't do well, it will be even more embarrassing than doing badly on a regular history test because the material that is on it is all stuff we covered already in my home classes. I rocked that midterm, by the way. So yeah. I think I'm gonna head to bed soon, I'm a little exhausted. 

Again I apologize for my lack of communication. I don't hate any of you, contrary to what I'm sure is popular belief. I'm just going crazy looking for time to do anything, including calling my parents, updating this blog, and sleeping. I love all of you, and miss you all just as much. Hope all is well at home.

Later skaters,

susan.

happy tuesday.

I'm sitting in the Zula (i'd translate that for you, but i don't think it means anything..just sounds good) trying to upload pictures for all you freaky followers (ALL TWENTY THREE OF YOU..who by the way, are crazy because my life is not all that interesting to follow) 

We spent traipsing through the Jewish quarter in Jerusalem today, which was really cool. We saw the City of David and ate Shwarma and ice cream and it was all in all delicious. The only bad part was the hail and rain which I could've sworn was going to give us all hypothermia. It's freaking freezing. I think I'm getting a cold. All of my friends were sick a week ago and I was lucky until this morning. Meredith and I shared a chocolate cake at 9 30 in the  morning, pre-tiyul. It was awesome. On the busride there, Sam taught me body parts in hebrew (this sounds silly, but i'm finally starting to learn basic vocabulary). Did I mention that i love Hebrew? I've never wanted to learn something more. You should see me during class-I'm always going "ech-um'rim..." (how do you say) and scribbling in my notebook nonstop.

I learned colors two days ago, and tried teaching myself the fruits. 

I'm so excited to get better at it-I think I might move up a class, I'm not sure. 

What else?

I'm cold and distracted by it. 

My new friend Molly is sitting next to me. She wants you all to know that she's "ill". But not sick. for the record. 

I feel like I have nothing to say today. Today was really really really enjoyable. I love it here, I think. I'm getting used to it-officially. I have a solid group of really great friends-I've found my crew, and always have someone to sit  with or tell stupid jokes to. It's comforting to have someone in my time zone to call when I need to vent. 

i actually have nothing to say right now.

I'm posting photos on flickr because facebook is being tempermental. 

i'll post the link soon.

au revoir.

Hey There

Update:

Shabbat Shalom, everyone. It's friday, no classes, no real activities. This morning we did Tz'dakah (like charity) at local preschools. It was fun, but it was hard to communicate with them because of the language barrier. They were adorable, though. We got there just in time to see their simulation of an Israeli family celebrating Shabbos-we chanted prayers and played with them, as well as preparing for Tubeshvat (the birthday of trees and plants and other such natural things). We planted small plants and I really enjoyed it =]

Some sad stuff has come to pass in the past week, so things here have been a little off..people in and out of the hospital, family emergencies back home, it's all been a bit strange. Just when I was getting comfortable with the friendly faces, they start going away. 

I don't know.

Everything is still good around here. 

I miss everyone a lot.

I miss my family (weird, no?)

I miss school...even though classes here are far more fun and engaging.

I miss my friends.

You are all wonderful people.

Thank you for reading.

I'd post pictures but this website won't let me-i'll get up a few albums on facebook in the next few days.

Hope to hear from you all soon!

You can call my Israel phone (011-052-603-7209) or write me (online or snail mail. I LOVE SNAIL MAIL)

Susan Tanney

NFTY-EIE High School in Israel
Kibbutz Tzuba
D.N. Harei Yehuda
90870
ISRAEL

(write air mail on the outside)

much love,

susan.

Update!

Okay, so since we last spoke, the following things have come to pass:

1. We went on an archaeological dig in the Judean Hills. While crawling through caves on my belly, and feeling the clay walls with my fingers I finally had that moment. That wonderful moment where my brain and my body and my heart are all in the same place. The same foreign location. It finally clicked. I'M IN ISRAEL! It sounds dumb, don't worry about it. So on the 'tel' (mountain in hebrew i think...or maybe it's archaeological site?), there were the most incredible views. I could see for miles around us. The tour guide (who is one of the archaeologists who continues to excavate the area) told us about the biblical village that lies adjacent to the place. Quite cool.

2. We had our first full day of classes.  The regular day is fairly intense, length-wise. My schedule is as follows:

7: 30 wake up

8:00 breakfast

8:30-11:30 Jewish History class

12:00 Hebrew Class

1:30 first period (lunch)

2: 10 Algebra 

3:10 History

4:10 Spanish

5:10 Biology

6:10 English

7ish dinner

and then the rest changes from day to day

I've found that strangely enough, I really like school. It's not ridiculously challenging (which is comforting, quite honestly), and my classes are really interesting. Jewish history (although really long when i see the times on the schedule), goes by quickly and I don't find myself yawning at all, which is really impressive. We cover six thousand years of Jewish history in a span of four months, so I suppose that the three hour class shouldn't surprise me, but still..

4. 4? i don't know, i can't scroll up right now because my computer's being dumb. Bear with my bad counting. We've had lots of time for exploring here and there, and my friends and I keep finding ourselves in our three favorite spots on Kibbutz Tzuba: the garden, the playground, and....oh wait, no it's only two. Just the garden and playground. We call the garden the 'secret garden' even though we talk about it all the time and invite everyone there to see the view. 

5. So yesterday was our first Shabbat in Israel-I still don't understand how we've been here for almost a week. In the morning, we hopped on busses and were shuttled into Jerusalem to do tz'dakah projects (good deeds) in honor of Shabbat. My group went to a soup kitchen that serves special meals for the needy for the Sabbath as well as preparing food packages for families. I spent much of the time in the kitchen slicing potatoes with around 15 other kids, while the rest of the group was split between serving food in the cafeteria-type room and preparing food boxes in the warehouse room. After about thirty five minutes, two girls came in from serving and asked for two replacements to go in. Being obnoxiously over confident and perky, I delightfully agreed to go. In retrospect, that was a terrible decision. The room was cramped, incredibly overcrowded. All of the people waiting to be served were over the age of fifty and all looked unhappy. The woman standing at the front of the food line passed trays to me and the other girl volunteering, and we were meant to bring them calmly and politely to those who were seated at tables and had not yet been served. This proved difficult, as the room was loud and voices were calling from all directions for food. People were irritable, unhappy, and hungry. People with no teeth, people whose clothing seemed sad. Most weren't seated and as I went to pass trays to the few in their seats, an arm would come through the masses and pull the tray from my hands. Whenever someone got a tray, another person would come to me and say "don't give him anymore, he's had enough already." I was reaching the end of my emotional rope when I turned towards the door to see a man limp in. He seemed to be in his late 70's, and wearing a golf hat  that had seen better days. The entrance to the room was filled, and he tripped on someone's foot. He landed on the lap of a woman sitting in a chair by the door. As awesome as that sounds, her response was less than glad. She promptly yelled at him in Hebrew and hit him with her cane, which prompted him to push back. I ran out of the room in tears- I couldn't handle so much at once. Going back into the kitchen, I shakily asked for someone to replace me in the serving room. Needless to say, I spent some quality time with a sack of potatoes. Getting back on the bus afterward, I found a much needed friend. I'm glad to say that I've started finding more of those around here. Things are definitely looking up in that aspect.

We returned to the Kibbutz after our community service projects for some free time to prepare for Shabbat. Running around and getting dressed up and cleaning as though we were being graded on it reminded me so much of camp. I love Shabbat in NFTY settings. I love it in general, I guess. We were told to dress modestly, as we were headed into Jerusalem to pray at the Kotel.  I cannot describe the excitement I felt on the busride there. I have never had butterflies like that before. Not before a show, not before a concert, not before an apology. Never quite like this. Because this seemed like it....mattered. Not just as something that was happening then, at that moment, but as something that would continue to affect me as I grow older and possibly even after (this is a sentence about the afterlife. by the way). They say that where you go after this life is directly connected to your actions and thoughts while you're here. I'm starting to take that more seriously than I used to. Anyway, the kotel.  It was everything I was waiting for. Standing with the other women waiting for my turn to touch and breathe and truly be a part of my Jewish history, I felt the connection with the hundreds of other people around me. In this moment, I felt a part of the land and its story. This wall, these people, the prayers on their lips and the slips of paper in their hands, I felt a part of it all. I had no tears to share, no smile to show for myself. Just a strangely deep understanding of why I had gotten on a plane five days before. Funny (and a little sacrilegious), but the first words i said upon running my fingers along the Jerusalem stone were "It's all happening". Thank you to the script writers of Almost Famous and everyone who was alive in 1969. The rest of shabbat is becoming hazy in my mind, but I know that we returned to the Kibbutz, had t'fillah in the hotel (THERE'S A HOTEL HERE!), ate Shabbos dinner and then had far too many hours of free time. I can't even remember what I did or where i went, but I do remember discovering an underground dance club. WEIRD. All of the Ulpan students (the americans and other foreigners who have either made aliyah or are just here for extended visits and spend five hours a day learning hebrew then working in the factory on the Kibbutz in return for room and board) and some of the younger Kibbutznit kids were getting their groove on in the darkness of an itsy bitsy building somewhere around the corner from our dorms. As you may imagine, I found this impossibly funny. 

I woke up early to run this morning, but that failed miserably. I ended up falling back asleep and waking up just in time for morning t'fillah. joy. I'm not really a fan of the rabbi who leads services here. I suppose I'll learn to like him as the weeks pass.  After services, we went to lunch, and I did some homework with a few friends. OH! i remember what else! Today was actually the best day I think I've ever had. A few of us (plus Jomi the madracha [counselor] and her friend from the army) got together for a hike to tel Tzuba, which is the ancient ruins on the hill of the Kibbutz. I have never enjoyed myself so much with a group of strangers in a place I'd never been. I won't describe much (the pictures I put up later will suffice), but I will say that the views are incredible, and I drank turkish coffee on the roof of an ancient chapel. 

more to come tomorrow, it is 1:30 am here and i have school in the morning.

miss you all.

אני כאן

אני כאן.

Ani Kahn- I am here.

I got here last night. I've already lost track of time; it seems that the one day (and a few hours) we've spent here have multiplied. I know where we go to eat, I know where I can explore with friends, I know where we pray, I know where we get lectured and are taught. It's not quite home, but it's certainly getting there.

This blog is meant for documenting my journey. I'm doing a terrible job of that thus far. Let me start over. Sunday morning, Sandy came over. We spent the day pretending I wasn't leaving and throwing things into a suitcase as though I might be sleeping over at her house for a few weeks. All was peachy and fun and happy until the doorbell rang and Mrs. Mattei took my baby away (Ramones reference. It's okay if you don't get it.) The tears we shared at the door were my last so far, I'm proud (and a bit ashamed) to say.

My mother and I left a few hours later. After half a Baumgart's sandwich, a few Aerosmith songs, and a rushed advice session (think "Israeli men will want you, keep yourself covered", and "Don't do anything stupid."), we arrived at Newark where my mother freaked because she missed the parent's meeting (think: "Don't worry, guys." and "Your children are safe with us"). Checking my luggage was the calmest bit of the process: the bag that Sandy and I packed was underweight, if you can believe that (high five to us, Sandy!) Then came the actual goodbye. Mom gave me a big hug, got teary eyed, and said how much she'd miss me. Then I met up with Meredith (think: UMC, NFTY GER, etc) and her bag of cookies that Adam had baked (god bless the kid) as we headed through security. After feeding a security lady three bite sized Adam Cohen cookies, we threw our stuff in a room with what seemed like a million teenagers who (unsurprisingly) seemed whole-heartedly disinterested in our entrance. Nothing new there.

Skip a few hours of awkward, forced chatter and some hugs with long-lost camp friends. Fast forward to an airplane. I've never been on such a large aircraft. There was room to stretch and skip around if I wanted to. 120 participants for EIE were on the plane, but there were still around a hundred other passengers there. I feel horrible for them: I've never been around such rowdy teenagers in such a public place. 10 hours on a plane with over a hundred kids who didn't have enough sense to use their "inside voices". I ended up bitching about the noise about 6 hours in, after I woke up for a fourth time to twelve people sitting in the row of four seats next to me. Obnoxious, no? The rest was uneventful. EXCEPT: i saw the sunrise from across the ocean! too cool. 

Fast forward to our arrival, by bus to Kibbutz Tzuba. (Which, for the record, is 20 minutes from Jerusalem and about 45 from Tel Aviv). Stepping off the bus into the new and previously uncharted (by myself) territory which is Kibbutz Tzuba in the nighttime, I was struck by one thing: the smell. I don't think I'll get used to it. It smells like...flowers. And fruits. And candy. And honey. And pine trees. It smells delicious; sometimes I think I can taste the air. We couldn't see much in the dark, but we went to dinner, had mini orientation, and located (and unpacked) our rooms. They look a bit like town houses (pictures to come later), but the insides are set up like suites. I have three roommates (suitemates? housemates?). They're all nice and fairly boring so far (I'm not allowing myself to judge as it is only the first full day and that's just not fair). We're a bit cramped on elbow space, and my bed is on the floor, but besides that it's fine.

I've been exploring nonstop with some friends. We found this absolutely beautiful garden, filled with orange and pink flowers and crazy shrubbery and cacti. There are wooden benches with roofs to sit beneath and rocks to drag your feet through. Looking to the east there is a breathtaking view of what may or may not be Jerusalem (don't laugh at me and my lack of knowledge. I'm learning). I've been back about four times today. It has easily become my favorite place on Tzuba. We also have visited a playground which has a GIANT HAMSTER WHEEL, and another neat (and unreachable) garden-type place which was perfect for sunset watching. My camera is proving to be a great investment. Unfortunately I left the instruction booklet at home...

Besides exploration, we've met with our teachers for the semester, learned all of the rules

(like six times), gotten a tour, and eaten a few meals. The food is really good, but Stephen wasn't

lying about the raw fish thing. I haven't eaten any yet-I probably won't. Besides the fish, there's an

incredible selection of vegetables and grains and other such wonders. The tomatoes are amazing.

I could live off of them alone.

What else? The jetlag is killing me. It's about 12:30 am and i'm so ridiculously tired but I can't

sleep because my brain is all screwy. We're waking up at 7 tomorrow for our first field trip, so I should

head to bed soon. We're going on an archaeological dig. Sounds good to me =] I'm going to steal a rock

to bring home. Scratch that, I mean pebble. My bags were heavy enough on the way here.

Tata to my three blog followers (i don't like that you guys are called 'followers'. it creeps me out.)

Hope to hear from you soon!

Write me letters?

leave my voicemails?

They would make me really happy.

Love to the birthland from the homeland.

tomorrow?

Hi everyone-

Tomorrow I head over to Newark airport for my flight to Israel. 8 hours in a small aircraft, and finally we'll touch down in a place I've never been before. I'm terrified and excited. The feeling reminds me of my favorite lines in "The Lake" by Edgar Allan Poe. 

"..Yet that terror was not fright,

But a tremulous delight

And a feeling undefined,

Springing from a darkened mind"

I haven't finished packing; the piles are across my bedroom floor. I'm going out emergency shopping this afternoon for stupid things like an umbrella and some stickers for my water bottles. I still don't know how to use my camera (learning by doing is my philosophy, although I'm starting to regret not reading the book as of this morning). 

I'm having these weird feelings like I should stay here, but there's no going back now, I suppose. I guess I'm just like this because leaving my friends is saddening like no other activity. I won't have to really come to terms with it until I go through security at the airport, though. Sandy and my mother will be there to wave me off-I hope it's not too emotional a scene; I'm not so good at goodbyes.

(will finish this later-my friends are at the door)