Israel: Everything is the same.

step out to cough, smoke
step out to breath, garbage strewn.
are they happy? no.

Let's Chat: Free Education

As you may or may not remember, I have been a member of the ROI Community since my attendance at the ROI Summit in Israel in 2011. This year, I'm in Israel but not at the summit, but I'm doing my part to share the awesomeness of the summit with everyone out there in e-land.

Next Tuesday, I'm hosting an online chat based on one of the amazing presentations from the ROI Summit this year, and I hope you'll join me and share with your friends, family, colleagues, and anyone else interested in the free education system.

This discussion/online meetup will focus on a presentation given by Shai Reshef, an Israeli businessman and educational entrepreneur who is the founder and president of University of the People – a nonprofit, tuition-free, online academic institution dedicated to the democratization of higher education by making college-level studies accessible to students worldwide.

Here are the details:

University of the People or University of the Future? 
Tuesday, June 18 @ 8 p.m. (Israel) / 1 p.m. (Eastern)
We will discuss whether free, accessible education will level the global playing field and release students from the financial burdens of education or will it devalue education and lower the standards of learning. What about teachers? When education is free, where do we find qualified educators willing to offer free lessons when educators are already underpaid and overworked?

So please join me on Twitter and Facebook by looking out for #roicom and #FreeUni! Bring your thoughts, your gripes, your ideas. 

Getting Married: The Video and More

For those of you who weren't able to "attend" the wedding on Wednesday night in Israel (come on, we only had 24 people plus a mashgiach in attendance, although it was pretty amazing when Pey Dalid showed up), the entire thing was recorded and is available online. It's 1 hour and 19 minutes long, but I can tell you the first 20 minutes are excellent, then the chuppah starts at 45 minutes or so, and then is the rest of the shebang.




Feel free to comment here, there, everywhere! I was so happy to have so many people watching and so many people commenting. Seriously, I love you guys!

Oh, and here's a bit of Pey Dalid singing us into the end of the meal, too.


Stay tuned for more pictures and details about everything (I can actually call myself a rebbetzin now, eegads!). For now, I'm just enjoying being married, it being Purim, and living in the most beautiful country in the world surrounded by the most loving friends and family a girl could ask for.

HaShem's blessings are so prevalent in my life, and I want to thank you all for being such a major part of those blessings!

PS: For those of you who have heard tell of the hilarity that is now my last name, please see this informative expose on the topic. 

When Life is Happening

Oh hello blog. Long time no talk. This is what happens when I'm busy actually living my life, I guess, right? The blog slowly takes a back seat to everything else. I've been dealing with graduate degrees and jobs and marriage and everything that falls in between. Never before has the blog taken a random and unforgiving lull.

So what to say? Well, the past week or so has been filled with lots of work, purchasing my first Jerusalem-style chanukiyah (aka one in a box to be displayed outside), an excellent Shabbat with "family" in Ramat Bet Shemesh, a few amazing dates, my attendance at TEDxJerusalem, two major falls that busted up my knee royally, and my first-ever attempt at making my own gluten-free sufganiyot (aka fried jelly donuts).

Yum-my. Recipe can be found here. 

Check out my fancy chanukiyah!

My life seems much more easily documented in images these days than in text, which is a weird change for me. But pictures, you see, are so much easier to capture and post. I envision elaborate posts about every little emotion I'm experiencing, but I'm currently in a place where I'm really enjoying my own emotions in the privacy of my own space. That's a new thing, right?

So, keep tabs on my Instagram for quite literally up-to-the day (if not hour) updates on what's going on. I'm going to try to get better about posting here, but there is just absolutely too many amazing things happening in real life for me to post about right now.

Stay tuned!

Where Have I Been?

IDF in the shuk handing out brochures from the Homefront 

Command about what to do in the instance of an attack [Nov. 21].

It's been more than a week since I updated the blog with substance about how exactly I'm doing. Since I blogged, there were days without sleep, more sirens in Jerusalem, a heightened attack by Hamas, a ceasefire, a calm in my life, an aron (closet) delivery, an utter annoyance with men, Thanksgiving, an amazing Shabbat in Ra'anana, and lots of sleep.

That's a week in a nutshell.

I meant all week to sit down and write how I was feeling, what I was thinking, what life in a "war" zone really feels like, but I was far too busy documenting it on Facebook for the sake of others, for the world to see how absolutely biased and ridiculous 99 percent of the news that goes out really is. Just today I had some guy try to tell me that Hamas dragging Gaza citizens through the street in a bloody display of retribution for supposed "spying for Israel" was fake and not real news. Google it. You'll find dozens, if not hundreds, of sources and images. It happened. Believe it didn't, but those are the kind of thugs that are running Gaza. And I pity the citizens of Gaza who are either brainwashed, suffering Stockholm Syndrome, or too scared to breathe a word of fleeing to a safer place like, oh, I don't know, Israel. The truth is, Muslim, Christian, or Jew, Israel is the safest place for anyone in the Middle East these days.

Sirens last week again in Jerusalem had me leaving some cooking in the oven, running out of my apartment in my frilly, girly apron, to the miklat (bomb shelter) across from my apartment. It was still padlocked up, so a neighbor with a crowbar hit the scene and an Israeli managed to get it open. After breaking a second lock downstairs, and after the sirens had subsided, we entered the miklat to discover a blast from the past in the form of an old office with tons of office equipment. It's rumored that some guy was using it as his office space, and there were other rumors it was rented out as a music school at some point. Chances are both are true, which just makes me laugh. This is how poorly prepared and ready Jerusalem is for an air strike -- this is how completely unlikely we thought the situation was.

After days of rockets and fear, rain swept the country. B"H.

When the ceasefire talks seemed like they were honest and serious, there were lots of mixed emotions from Israelis, myself included. Although I needed the break -- the 24/6 news cycle was creating a culture of no sleep and emotional exhaustion -- I was also willing to go months without sleep to ensure that once and for all Israel would stop allowing Hamas to terrorize Israel and Israelis, that Israel would wave its mighty fist of justice and truth and smash its enemies while showing the world its sincere commitment to human rights and life.

But it didn't happen. The ceasefire came, life has gone back to normal, and I'm finally sleeping. With one eye on Twitter and Facebook at all times, I'm waiting to see what will happen with Hezbollah in the north. When it comes to terrorism and the pursuit of murdering Jews and Israelis and destroying the state, Hezbollah wins. And they haven't even gotten started yet.

At last, it resembles a real apartment. Video forthcoming (maybe)!

Beyond war, of course, there is normal life. I went to a Thanksgiving event at Hineni on Thursday night with an e-friend turned real friend, which was a blast and a half. I'd share some pictures with you, but unfortunately the photographer for the night has failed to post them yet. Although I didn't eat much, my funds went to a good cause for those impacted by the conflict, and I got lots of my favorite Thanksgiving goodies on Friday night for "Shabbat Hodu" -- that's sort of like Indian Shabbat. I was elated and surprised when my friends in Ra'anana put together Gluten-Free Green Bean Casserole for me. It felt like home, it felt like Thanksgiving, for the first time in years. My apartment has finally been filled appropriately with an aron (closet) and a table, so I am not living 24/7 on my bed. I have an oven and plenty of cooking items, so my kitchen is finally feeling like a real place to cook and bake and ease my mind on long days again.

Tonight I made Gluten-Free Oven-Baked Fish & Chips. 

Tilapia + Potato + Seasonings/Corn Meal = Roughly 23 shekels ($6)

Homecooked Meal = Priceless

And dating? Well, that world has continued to perplex me. Men who don't know what they want or can't see what's right in front of them seem to appear at my doorstep, which leaves me nowhere. I haven't had much luck with any of the guys I've encountered on JWed (formerly Frumster), and I just got one match on Saw You at Sinai that I'm contemplating. Meeting people in real life always seems to go well, until the point-blank shoot-down after what appears to be flirtations. I'm either horribly out of practice, or men have become women with their uncertainties, mixed signals, and inability to conjure an honest thought.

So that's life right now in Israel. I'm still happy as a clam here, and I can't imagine any other life for myself. I start ulpan -- intensive Hebrew language learning like I did back in Vermont -- in mid-January, and I'm incredibly eager to make it happen. I hold my own well here, arguing with the bank and bad delivery drivers over the phone without a second thought, but I want fluency and confidence, to fill the gaps, to be able to function fully in Hebrew. Everything's fallen into place with the greatest of ease, and every day that I breathe a little here in Jerusalem is another day I'm sure that I've made the best decision for me.

With that being said, when are you guys coming to visit already!?

Getting Back to Normal, Whatever That Is

Today I woke up sick. I had a migraine. My stomach felt fully ulcerous. I was exhausted emotionally and physically. I texted my co-volunteers (we're rocking out Stop the Rockets and @StopRockets) and told them I needed to take some time off.

So I took my agalah (that's a cart in Hebrew). I got an espresso, which I chugged, I went to the bank, and then I sat on a bench on Yafo for about 45 minutes, just watching the world pass me by. It was therapeutic, it was peaceful, it was exactly what I needed.

I went to the shuk (where the number of IDF soldiers at the entrances had tripled since yesterday) and picked up oodles of ingredients to make several different delicious things this week, came home, and then met up with a friend and her kids at the park and watched the sun slowly fall behind the buildings as the weather cooled to a brisk chill.

I went home and got to work cooking these delicious Spicy Indo-Chinese Noodles from Vegan News, which also was therapeutic. (And delicious.) (Recipe at the bottom.)

And then? I got back to work, doing what I do best, putting out quality, meaningful, and well-branded content. Facts, not memes. Content, not rhetoric.

My goal for this week is to focus on work, focus on eating healthy (I'm sticking to a strictly veggie diet -- I've been cheating because cheese here is so good, and I really have to stop because I'm feeling the effects), getting plenty of sleep and fluids, and being honest with myself about my limitations.

I can and should say no sometimes. It's hard for me, but I've come too far to let stress, anxiety, and living an unhealthy lifestyle destroy me.

---

Recipe for Spicy Indo-Chinese Noodles Modified from VegNews 

Ingredients
1 8-ounce package of  Vermicelli Rice Noodles, cooked, drained, and rinsed in cold water (these are hard to find kosher in the U.S. and here you can find them EVERYWHERE)
1 Tbls sesame oil
1 Tbls olive oil
1 small yellow onion, sliced thin
4 cups shredded cabbage (I did this the old fashioned way, but feel free to buy pre-shredded)
2 small green bell peppers, cut into thin strips
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp agave
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 tsp red pepper flakes (because I like it hot)
1/4 cup gluten-free soy sauce (tamari)
1 tsp Sriracha
2 Tbls ketchup
2 Tbls rice vinegar
2 Tbls water
Options: carrots, broccoli, other Asian-y veggies

1. In a large bowl, toss noodles and sesame oil and set aside. 
2. In a large skillet over medium, heat the olive oil and add the onion, cabbage, bell pepper, garlic, and whatever other veggies you have on hand and saute for 3-4 minutes. 
3. Add agave, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes and saute another 3-5 minutes. 
4. Add cooked noodles, tamari, ketchup, Sriracha, vinegar, and water, and saute for 3-5 minutes more until heated through.
5. Serve hot! (Top it with more Sriracha, if you're like me!)

Aliyah: Looking for the Mikvah

I've had a lot of people ask me where the kelim mikvah (the place you take your new utensils, dishes, and cookware to be ritually immersed before using), so I decided to just make a Google Map! Why is this not listed online already? Nobody knows. But I'm all about making people's lives easier, so here you go.



View Nachlaot Mikvah in a larger map

Aliyah: It Just Got Real.

Reasons to get married: I don't want to go through another air raid siren alone. 

Aliyah: One Month Down

I was considering writing a blog post about how you should never ever rent a car in Israel because the gas here is too expensive and the fees are too expensive, and did I really forget in a single month how expensive owning a car was?

(I guess so. But seriously, the adventure to IKEA in Rishon Letziyon was pretty amazing. And the kosher nosh? Totally totally worth it. Even if I did break the bank.)

Yes, that's dijon salmon and crinkle french fries. With a soda.
I spoiled myself. Okay?! It was my one-month aliyahversary!

Instead, I wanted to pop in after a month in Israel (where oh where has the time gone) to say how inexplicably pleased I am with life. There have been a few giant lemons since arriving (in the form of men and mosquitoes and a hole in my wall with water pouring out of it), but by and large it's all bliss. I've made dozens of new friends, many who I see on a daily basis thanks to the close quarters of Nachlaot. There's something unbelievably special about walking a few seconds to the shuk for fresh produce and returning home and passing the park to see a friend with her kids playing there. I stop, I chat, I watch the Mayanot guys playing soccer, the cats sniffing around piles of food someone's left out, watch the clouds rolling fast overhead and the chill coming in, and I'm home. Home where I now have a gigantic toaster oven (thanks Amy and Miriam!), a nifty table from IKEA so that I can stop eating and working on my bed (thanks for the encouragement Lany!), and a space that I have made uniquely my own.

I was the girl on the No. 18 with her oven. It had its own seat, yes it did. 

I guess today for the first time, I really feel like I have a home. I've always felt at home, but now I have a space that is uniquely mine, filled with my things, my hard work (oh this furniture gave me blisters), scents of my cooking, the sites of my life. This place is mine at last.

Lunch today at Ben-Ami on Emek Refaim with besties Miriam and Amy.

Don't be fooled -- they don't actually serve gluten-free pasta. 

It feels insensitive to really enjoy feeling so at home, so happy, so at peace. Yes, I know what's going on in Israel, in the south, where I have friends living. Yes, the Iron Dome is a lifesaver. Yes, the news is biased and ignoring the reason for Israel's returned agression against Gaza militants and Syira. Yes, we're probably going to end up with another war (let's be honest, we're in one), but if I were going to be anywhere I would want to be here with Am Yisrael, standing firm and strong, staring hatred and death in the face. My people, my land, my home.

Every Sunday and Monday I go to At Home Cafe. Coffee. Friends.

Gluten-free baked goods. That scone wasn't, but I had biscotti. 

It's like I'm living in an amazing dream world where people

want to be part of your life and want you to be part of theirs. 

This is my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I've spent just about every night for the past week on roughly 4-5 hours of sleep. I've had days like that where I'm miserable, but here, I power through. I don't cancel on social activities. I embrace my life as it is and relish in these moments. I have friends, I have love, I have family, I have happiness. It's amazing.

Two doors down -- life imitates art. 

I'm spoiled. HaShem is spoiling me. If this is aliyah, I wouldn't want anything else. I'll take the leaks and my Bank Leumi card not working and missing exits on the highway ... I'll take the lines and bureaucracy and imminent danger. If this is what happiness and peace and internal calm feels like, then I'll take it. I'll take it all. 

Shabbat in The Swamp

Men in The Swamp do not look like Swamp Thing.

I had quite the Shabbat this week. I round-tripped nearly 4.5 miles by my Google Maps calculations on Shabbat evening. In the morning, I traipsed a mere few feet across the park to the next street for my meal, which was an utter delight with a great family from Canada that's in town until next month experiencing all that Israel has to offer.

But Shabbat night. Where exactly did I go? Why did I schlep so far? And why do my knees hate me today? Well, I was invited down (literally, it was like a long downhill fall) to Shabbat davening at Yakar in Katamon, followed by a meal with seven other singles (seven women, one guy), followed by a Singles Game Night hosted in a local gan (that's like a preschool).

The unique thing about the locale of all of this is that it was in The Swamp. Yes, the illustrious Swamp featured in the hit Israeli TV show Srugim, which some have said is like the Religious Zionist version of Friends.


I realized the depth of the "meat market" that is The Swamp after leaving services at Yakar, because there were gobs, we're talking throngs of singles in their 20s and 30s just hanging around outside the shul. I can't imagine what it looks like on Shabbat day. And I'll admit -- I'm kind of wishing I lived down there. If anything, it would create a lot of fun blog fodder. On the other hand, it would probably result in a lot of frustration and annoyance at the show-stopping antics of single Jewish people. The nice thing about Yakar, however, is that the girls aren't dressed like they are at Mount Sinai in Washington Heights in NYC, so that was a relief for me. Although some gals had on more makeup than Honey Boo Boo at a million-dollar talent show. I felt pretty, oh so pretty. (No, really, I did.)

The davening itself was very much what I'm used to, except that the inside was either too toasty or too swamped, so the balcony outside the upstairs entrance was filled with women, making the entrance an awkward one for the menfolk. And menfolk there were. (Insert obnoxious and unnecessary drooling here.) There was a lot of singing, which took me back to my West Hartford days, but the girls around me were ... well ... let's just say they needed tuning.

Dinner was outstanding, and I was lucky enough to meet a whole new gaggle of awesome people as well as explore the possibility of the gluten-free diet/sourdough bread connection. Stay tuned for more about this. But it did feel like I was in a fun scene from Srugim ...

As for the game night aspect, well, it was a bit of a bust. It's hard to walk into a very crowded space where people have been set up and playing games for a while and interject yourself. There were quite a few attractive Frenchmen there, I will say, and it really makes me wish I had done a better job retaining my French from high school. There's always Hebrew, right? But I have to work on that, too. So I didn't meet anyone, but I did learn how to play Rummikub, and I won the first game. It did make me miss Othello, and Pandemic, and all the other games that I had back in the U.S. that I don't have here. I did bring, however, Bananagrams.

Overall? Worth the more than 4-mile schlep? Sure thing. The walk home was the rough part, but it gave me a lot of time for some personal dialogue, which is necessary when you're as internal-dialoguey as I am.

I'm also semi-happy to have discovered a blog about the scene down in Katamon, although the post from November 1 kind of really makes me sad for people who come with a puppies and roses view about Israel only to have it logically dashed within days or months of arrival.

So, do you live in The Swamp? Have experience in The Swamp? Perhaps you fell in lovveee in The Swamp? I want to hear about it!

The Shimmer and Awe of Israel

The thing about aliyah is that a lot of people move to Israel and spend the first few weeks or months or even years marveling at the awesomeness that is Israel. For those who show up and move to Tel Aviv or another very "American" city (I describe Tel Aviv as Miami with Hebrew), perhaps the shimmer of awe isn't so bright, but for those who move to Jerusalem or other holy cities or superbly historic locales where tour groups in matching hats tend to outnumber actual citizens, there's a sense of wonder, I think.

Old meets new in Jerusalem with the light rail (the smoothest ride ever) and the historic buildings set up by old-world bajillionaires and formerly occupying governments like the British. You can hop off the rail and shop at GAP, Crocs, and other major brands at the Mamila Mall, whose secret is that when the Temple is rebuilt, the shops will become the locale for purchasing your sacrifices. One day you're buying a shirt bedecked with Swarovski crystals, the next you're picking up a few goats and some fruit for your sin offering!

Going to the shuk aka Machane Yehuda aka the giant outdoor market with tiny alleyways and a bustle of movement and smells of fish and cracked-open pomegranate and spices feels quintessentially Middle Eastern. I'll admit that every time I step into the shuk, there's a feeling of moving out of a space I've known -- the fluorescent lights of a midwestern grocery store to the screams of men behind piles of bananas and avocados and melons trying to lure customers in. At the same time, the shuk is filled with modern amenities like Aroma coffee shop where you can get your fanciest of coffee beverages or Re:Bar the new froyo/smoothie chain with every fruit and vegetable combo tossed with your own shot of wheatgrass if you prefer (not for the gluten-free folks).

The variety of people, too, seem to paint the best picture of old-meets-new, east-meets-west. The men, in particular, seem to offer the stark contrast of ideologies and observances the best, with men in black-and-white seen as the old world, modesty at it's utmost and modern Israelis in blue jeans and button downs or T-shirts of brands that are too expensive in Israel. A mix of Ethiopians and Filipinos (often seen pushing the elderly), speakers of Yiddish and French, Anglos that stick out like a sore thumb most of the time, strollers filled to the brim with children, screaming babies, and old men shuffling about stroking their beards, women moving faster than the speed of light, teenagers at pastry shops wasting the day. I recently saw a Hassidic man on a motorized bicycle, black and white, beard and peyot flying in the wind, hat tightly on his head, speeding up Yafo in between the light rail trains moving in either direction, his bike making the sound of a tired engine. It was a sight to be seen.

I don't know what it is about this place, but the awe I feel for it is not the type of awe that people normally feel when they see something brilliant or unexpected for the first time. It's more muted, more internal, more personal. It's like my neshama has been here the whole time, like my body and eyes and nose and ears are simply catching up. Nothing surprises me -- no scent or site, no inconvenience or frustration. For me, it's all part of a continuous tapestry that I am lucky enough to experience day after day. It's just life, and I'm living it.

In many ways, I think I am like my father, and I think my little brother Joe also takes much of this on in his personality. A sense of calm, of rolling with the punches, of appreciating people and scenery and history. For all of my neurotic moments and tendency toward being a bit hot headed, I've never been the kind of person who feels a sense of perpetual urgency. I can sit at the bank for two hours, and it doesn't bother me. I can sit outside on a park bench and watch the world spin fast around me and be contented with watching the people, the breeze through the trees, the cats swirling around the Jerusalem stone, and I'm content. I can play the part, of course, of the irritable, impatient, rude Israeli passerby. That's what we call survival skills, folks. In New York City, I drove like a NYC cab driver out of necessity.

But I'm simpler than that, despite what most may think. I appreciate silence, I appreciate the slow and patient approach to life. And in that way, I'll never be Israeli. I will speak the language, eat the food, shop in the stores, relish in the smells and sounds, but I'll never lose my patience or internal awe for Eretz Yisrael.

Why? This place is a gift. No matter how many people fight over it, no matter the amount of tension and unrest, this land means so much to so many people crossing the bounds of gender, religion, creed, and color. If there is any place and any time in which I should be thankful above all else for what my life has become, it is now, and it is here.

Contrasts are beautiful, and Israel is and will always be a land of the starkest, most briliant contrasts.

Shabbat in Yerushalayim

Shavua tov! What. A. Shabbat. Where do I begin? Seriously, where!? Last night I spent some time at the home of some good friends and had the most delicious crisp of my life. Also? They had air conditioning, which was stellar and a nice reprieve from the heat I've been dealing with at my apartment. It also was nice to just sit and chat for several hours about everything and anything. It was comfortable, and relaxing, and amazing! Today, I slept in pretty late, had some cereal, and then schlepped off to the Kotel. The amazing thing about living in Jerusalem is that I can just wander aimlessly and at a pace as slowly as humanly possible. I arrived to the Kotel around two something, which means I was able to sort of sit and people-watch and daven for about three hours.  I had some crazy, bananas emotional moments while davening, realizing that I was really, really there. In my Ohel Sarah siddur, there was a special supplication for the Kotel, which I read a few times. There also was a special prayer for finding a zivug, which I read several times. Between Minchah and Ma'ariv, I was reading Pirkei Avot, and came across something 2:20, which gave me some insight into my search for a zivug ... 

Rabban Gamliel the son of Rabbi Yehuda the Prince said, Torah study is good with a worldly occupation, because the exertion put into both of them makes one forget sin. All Torah without work will ultimately result in desolation and will cause sinfulness. 

All who work for the community should work for the sake of Heaven, for the merit of the community's forefathers will help them, and their righteousness endures forever. And as for you, God will reward you greatly as if you accomplished it on your own.

Yes. Work and Torah. Avodah v'Torah. A real mensch does them both, and it keeps him occupied enough so that he doesn't have wandering eyes. So the Kollel guys and the work-only guys and the no-work guys ... no dice.
And then there were a few things that I realized ... things in which I think a PSA is needed!

• The reason people walk backwards away from the kotel is because it's as if you're walking away from a King. It's a sign of respect. Watch some old movies with English royalty and you'll see very much the same. A lot of people didn't seem to know why or for how long you are supposed to walk backwards (seriously? there isn't a limit, but don't run into people!). 
• The scarves that are available at the entrance are to cover your shoulders if you're wearing a tanktop or to cover your hair if you're married. Women were doing all sorts of crazy things with the scarves, but I noticed people of all ages covering their hair with the scarves. I think this is a bit of the confusion between the Orthodox Christian/Muslim/Jewish faith traditions. 

Part of me thinks there should be some kind of sign at the entrance to the Kotel in various languages explaining the traditions, practices, and so forth. What do you think? 

I realized after davening Minchah that there was actually a minyan down toward the Kotel (I was hanging out at the back) where the men stand really close to the mechitzah, allowing women to listen and participate. So when it came time for Maariv, I headed down there, which was nice, because they did a stellar havdalah! Yes, a giant cart pulled into the men's section with bundles of mint, which people passed out and around for havdalah! Talk about nifty. 

What a Shabbat. I saw so many attractive bochurim, so many young frum girls, and realized that I'm so old out here in the dating game. But that's what all the davening was for, right!?

Shavua tov, cheverim!

The Hebrew Index: If you ever have questions, let me know. Or if you want me to blog about any of the words I'm using or concepts I'm sharing, let me know, too! 
davening = praying
Maariv = evening/night prayers
Mincha = afternoon prayers
havdalah = the end-of-Shabbat prayers, separating Shabbat from the rest of the week
mechitzah = the divider that separates the men's and women's sections
bochurim = single guys
frum = Orthodox or observant
cheverim = "friends"
Ohel Sarah siddur = a specific prayer book for women published by Artscrolls
Kollel = that place where guys study after yeshiva -- it's like yeshiva for adults
yeshiva = religious "high school"
zivug = match, or partner
Kotel = the Western Wall, also known as Ha'Kotel Ha'Maarav (kotel = wall)

The New Apartment

In Israel, and ROI Cometh!

My little street in Nachlaot, Ma'on.

Well, here I am in Jerusalem safe and sound. I'm not sure why I'm more exhausted this trip than past trips -- maybe because I don't have Tuvia with me to keep me alive, alert, awake and enthusiastic. Either way, I was up later than I wanted to be last night (millions of emails in the inbox), and there was someone upstairs have a crazy party in which the music rose in volume about every two minutes. I'm worried I might not be able to swing a Shavuot all-nighter, but we'll see. If anything, I'm going to make it to the kotel, even if ever-so-briefly. Then? I might need to sleep some more. But this is one of those once-in-a-lifetime kind of things, I feel like. Pilgrimage holiday at the pilgrimage locale? Awesomesauce.

So tonight and tomorrow are Shavuot, which I'm spending with some new and old friends, followed by some chillaxing and then an as-yet-unknown Shabbat in Jerusalem. I kind of want to get my Shabbos on at the kotel, so I'm staying local. Next Shabbos I'll be in Ramat Shlomo with my awesome Lubavitch family (Tuvia's side, of course).

And then it's on to the races. Er ... the 2011 ROI Summit at the Dan Jerusalem Hotel. Still not sure what this ROI thing I'm talking about is? Well, this is the press release, and you can follow everything on Twitter with the hashtag #roicom! (Read more here.) I've got three main areas of passion: Conversion, Social Media, Hebrew Language/Israel Education. I can't say my Hebrew is stellar (sigh), but hopefully this trip will prove my passion worthy.

You can expect gobs of blogging and Tweeting about the event, so if I bog you down, feel free to tune me out for a few days, but I hope you'll listen and learn along with me!

---

Connecting to Create the Jewish Future
Young Social Innovators Will Collaborate at Global Summit in Jerusalem to Transform the Jewish World and Beyond. June 12-16, 2011, Dan Jerusalem Hotel


As cyber-activism and Facebook revolutions sweep the Middle East, 150 Jewish social and business entrepreneurs, technology whizzes, thinkers and artists from Hong Kong to Zagreb, Sao Paulo to San Francisco, and Melbourne to Beersheva, will converge on Jerusalem for the ROI Global Summit of Young Jewish Innovators, to connect and create new tools and novel approaches to shape the Jewish world and beyond.

ROI Community is an international network of 600 social entrepreneurs and Jewish innovators in 40 countries on six continents who are creating innovative ways to connect to Jewish life.

“These young Jewish social entrepreneurs are transforming the Jewish world through their vital initiatives and commitment to tikkun olam, repairing the world,” said Lynn Schusterman, the American Jewish philanthropist who, in 2005, created ROI Community as a partnership with Taglit-Birthright Israel. “As change agents within their own communities, in Israel and beyond, these 20- and 30-somethings are key to ensuring the vibrancy of Jewish life 3,000 years down the road.”

Keynote speaker Marina Nemat, whose best-selling memoir Prisoner of Teheran recounts the torture she endured while imprisoned by the Khomeini regime as a teenager, will address human rights and the revolutions sweeping the Middle East. Opening keynoter Daniel Birnbaum, who, as CEO, oversaw Israel’s biggest IPO in 2010 for start-up SodaStream International, will share how building a corporate culture grounded in environmental responsibility boosts business. And, in conjunction with the Jerusalem Season of Culture, world-renowned video artist Kutiman will unveil a new piece inspired by Jerusalem during the ROI Global Summit.

At the heart of the program is peer-to-peer training and collaborative project-building lead by ROI network members from around the world. In addition, some of Israel’s most successful entrepreneurs and thought leaders will teach Master Classes to inspire the ROIers with their personal stories and insights for effecting change. Among the dozen Master Class teachers will be Yossi Abramowitz, president of the newly formed Arava Power Company and Jewish educator/activist; Independence Party MK Einat Wilf, a Cambridge PhD and former Senior Fellow at the Jewish People Policy Planning Institute, who serves on the Foreign Affairs and Defense, Education and House committees; and, Rachel Azarya, the youngest Deputy Mayor of Jerusalem.

ROI Community has played a key role in seeding and supporting such cutting-edge Jewish start-ups as Moishe House, G-dcast, Jewcology, Omanoot.com, andHaggadot.com. ROI also offers an expansive Micro Grants program to help ROI members turn ideas into actual meaningful projects.

“ROI Community creates a space where connection and innovation happen,” said Justin Korda, ROI Community Executive Director. “Our ultimate goal is to link up dynamic, creative young Jews, enabling them to translate their ideas into initiatives that bring the joy of Jewish life to Jews around the world and impact the world around them. Ultimately, we envision a thousand-strong network of innovators engaging a million people in diverse forms of Jewish life.”

To Build a Homeless Shelter in Jerusalem

You all probably remember when I was busy pushing DonorsChoose.org, a website where teachers can go to seek funds for classroom projects to help overcome financial difficulties. I'm really big on pushing good causes, because I think that this blog, with its strong and devoted readership, has the ability to really initiate and engage in social change. Thus, enter the Dell Social Innovation Competition, which puts $50,000 into the hands of the creators of a project of true social change.

A second-year logistics students at Bar-Ilan University -- originally from New Jersey -- contacted me about their project: a homeless shelter in Jerusalem, which would make it the only one, believe it or not. These students have been working for the past year to lay the groundwork for this project, which already has posted third place in the Dell and University of Austin Social Innovation Competition.

You can read more here and here -- and you can also get to the voting at both links. If the group is in the top ten by February 18, they'll automatically proceed to the second round, and if they place first, they'll get an additional $1,000, a vital resource if they want to win the $50,000 grand prize.

If you don't have the time to help advertise this great cause, at least take the time to go vote on their project -- it's a noble cause, and social change is worth your time. Just look at these statistics, and then tell me you don't have the time to VOTE.

The rate of homelessness and poverty in Jerusalem is increasing drastically, with 41% of the residents living below the poverty line, as of June 2010. Workforce participation is at 40%. Child poverty in West and East Jerusalem is at 45% and 75%, respectively, and 2/3rd of those suffering from poverty and homelessness are forced to forgo meals on a daily basis.

Let's fix it -- okay?

In Jerusalem, All is Aglow

In Nachla'ot, this is what we see. Lights, lights, in every shape and size.

I'll admit it: I am incredibly spoiled being in Jerusalem for the first half of Chanukah. In fact, spoiled probably isn't even the most appropriate word. I need a word with more awesomeness and emphasis on "special" and "unique."

If you've never been in Jerusalem for Chanukah, then you're missing out. There's something about walking down a street and, when you turn to look down any alley, seeing doorway after doorway bright with the lights of chanukiot or menorahs. I was telling Tuvia that it reminds me of Christmastime back in Missouri and Nebraska, when my dad would insist on us driving around -- as a family -- to look at the varied and unique displays of lights in every neighborhood of town. Some went all out with every last inch covered in beautiful white lights (classy) and some would go all out with plastic Santa figurines and colorful lights upon every door and window frame (barf).

In Jerusalem, you see gigantic chanukiot and small ones. Silver and pewter, small glasses filled with oil, some in boxes, some simply on chairs in doorways. The variety is beautiful, the light is uplifting. I suppose this is one of the times of year where Jerusalem feels whole, connected, complete, and as one. I can't fully describe how beautiful it is -- you have to see and feel it to believe it -- but I hope some of the photos here can give you a taste of what it's like.

You can light 'em on a chair ...

I also wish I could go into a big academic diatribe about Chanukah really being (probably) a belated Sukkot celebration, but I'll save you the drama that it might unfold. I'll just say that for what it's worth, most people don't know the whole story about Chanukah and how it evolved through the years to what we know today. I will add, of course, that I love how appropriate it is to see so many chanukiot lit on the right side of the doorpost here -- after all, this is where we are meant to light our chanukiot because they are meant to sit opposite the mezuzah upon our right doorposts as a reminder of the rekindling of our commitment to HaShem and the Torah.

At any rate, Chag Chanukah Sameach, Chag Sameach, Happy Chanukah -- all from Jerusalem, which is a'glow (but not a'blaze, Baruch HaShem!).

We chose to set up our tea light chanukiah on our window ledge. Chag Chanukah Sameach!

For more photos, check out my Facebook! Also, for what it's worth, we were interviewed by the friendly faces behind Tuesday Night Live in Jerusalem, so stay tuned to their website to see if my hilarious comments about Israelis and Floridians make it on-air.

[Singing] It's Shabbos Now!

But modestly, of course. Because, after all, this is the interwebs and I am an Orthodox Jewess. So pretend I'm in a closet, and no one can hear me. (I am in the Poconos, and it's quiet here. Oh, except for the five burly construction workers banging and sawing and talking about women while putting up the new windows. It's cold. Very cold. Because there are holes in the wall where windows go. But back to our regularly scheduled blog post ...)

Just a note that in a month and a couple days, I'll be rocking Shabbos in Jerusalem. That's the appropriate way for a Chaviva to rock Shabbos, in case you didn't know. Every day, I grow weaker, I think, being here. Almost a feeling of detachment from the world. In Israel? I feel alive. So I'm super stoked to be heading toward Jerusalem soonish. Let's just hope I can survive the coming weeks. (Hat tip to Elianah for her inspiring Israel ROCKS Shabbat post.)

Speaking of the coming weeks, I have a lot in store as far as blog posts go. I just have to get all of my schoolwork done so I can write the blog posts. In no particular order are ...

• TWO, yes, TWO cookbook giveaway contests. There will be some action involved (get your chef's hats ready) and two lucky winners will receive (one person for each book) Jamie Geller's new Quick & Kosher: Meals in Minutes or Susie Fishbein's Kosher by Design: Teens and 20-Somethings. There will be two contests, two blog posts, two winners. The first will start on Wednesday, October 27. 
• A blog post on the hair situation. Yes, hair covering. These happen to be some of my most-read posts, so I'm eager to write another one now that I'm nearly five months into being married and covering. Have I piqued your interest? I might also go all mikvah on you!
• An interesting thing happened in class last week. It involves a class full of Jews with varying observance and self-identification, a kugel, a gefilte fish, and some kale. I know, right? I'll be asking your advice. Feel free to guess where I'm going with this. 
• Tuvia's been helping organize his great aunt's and great uncle's house, and he's found some serious gems of photography and memory. Me, being obsessed with genealogy, took on the task of looking into the photos, the people, the locations, and more. I am looking forward to letting you all know the details, including an interesting revelation about Tuvia's mom's family maybe being Sephardic! As a teaser, here's the photo that got me really going. I believe (and through a variety of checking with living relatives and others) this is Evan's grandmother's immediate family in the early or mid 1930s in Oradea, Romania. This, folks, is a gem, and if it's what we all think it is, it's probably the only surviving photo of a family that (save three sisters) perished in the Shoah. 

Such a seriously good looking frum Jewish family, right?!

So keep your eyes peeled. I promise I'm going to get to these. I have to. This blog is my life force, and maybe that's why I've been feeling so dead and detached lately. Poke me. Prod me. I'll get to it.

Until then? A gut Shabbos. Shabbat Shalom. Peace, health, and lots of cholent to you!

I Was An Israelite for 10 Days!

I lived in Israel for 10 days in Nachlaot, a neighborhood that includes the Machane Yehuda "shuk" and Ben Yehuda Street, that tourist trap with delicious confections and kitschy shopping. I say lived because that's what I did. There was an apartment on Yosef Chaim where I planted my head every night (except for a Shabbos spent out in Ramat Shlomo), it's where my clothes were hung, it was also where my toothbrush was. I didn't feel like I was visiting, I was living. I was an Israeli for a mere 10 days, and it felt marvelous.

I woke up each day and got ready in the world's smallest shower, brushed my teeth, walked on the cold floor, kissed the mezuzah, and schlepped off to one of the Yehudahs for breakfast. There were pastries, bagels, and interesting concoctions that you'd never find in the U.S. One morning I ate at Aroma in the "shuk," starting the day with an Iced Coffee (that's actually more like a frappucino -- there is no real iced coffee in Israel) and a sandwich comprising gigantic slices of white bread, an omelet, tomatoes, pickles, lettuce, and cheese. Oh, and there was also some cream cheese on there. Yes, you read that right. For breakfast. And? It was outstandingly delicious.

After food, Tuvia and I would schlep to our destination -- Caesaria, Tzfat, the Old City, the Jerusalem zoo, you name it. We ended up walking almost everywhere we went, but considering how much decadent food we ate there, I didn't shed a single pound. Thank you sufganiyot! In fact, I noshed a Roladen one that was Melon-Vodka flavored. That, folks, was rich and beautiful. After shopping and photos and a lot (we're talking knee-breaking) of schlepping, we'd hit up some deliciously kosher restaurant for lunch. This was probably the biggest treat of all -- kosher restaurants at every turn! Dairy! Meat! You name it. We ate a a falafel place, a schwarma place, an amazing burger place next to the Kotel, and even an Argentinian steakhouse near Ben Yehuda (it really wasn't that good). Our evenings were packed with meeting friends, family, and moonlighting at the Kotel, followed by more schwarma. Then, at night I'd crawl into bed, listening to the sounds of the small street, and -- as usual -- not sleep.

One of my favorite nights was spent listening to the street cats in an interesting chorus. At first, it was a loud, howling MEOWWWWWW. Then, surprisingly, came a wailing baby. I'm assuming the baby was woken up by this incredibly loud cat, but I can't be sure. Either way, the cat and the baby exchanged howls for about 10 minutes. Then, about two hours later, the cat was at it again -- this time with a dog. It was MEOWWWWWW! BARKKKKK! MEOWWWWWW! BARRKKKK! It got to the point where the choruses were too amusing to sleep, so I laughed. At every  hour of the day in that little room in Nachlaot, I heard the conversations of tourists, men singing outloud to themselves, children running along speaking Hebrew at a rate that I can only dream to reach. There were bikes and scooters zipping by in the alley, and one night the people across the way had their door wide open while they wined and dined, Fido sitting on the stoop watching passersby.

Spending so much time in the city -- I'd say about 3/5 of our time there was spent in Jerusalem proper -- allowed me to really experience what it must be like to live there. We walked through Machane Yehuda (the shuk) almost every day, including early in the morning when vegetables and bread were arriving on carts and in the evening when men were checking receipts and closing shop. The smells and the textures and the colors were something I could learn to live with, without a doubt. To be able to shop in a fresh market like that daily? Wow. Talk about a privilege. Also, being able to walk to the Kotel at midnight without a care or fear in the world was something unbelievably powerful. Come to think of it, being able to walk anywhere in Jerusalem at any hour felt so empowering. I felt safer in Israel than I ever felt in Chicago, Washington, or even Lincoln. I stood at a bus stop on a busy street at 12:30 in the morning, waiting a half-hour for a bus, people walking by, zipping by in cars and on bikes, and I didn't think twice about how late it was or where I was. I just knew I was safe.

After just two days, I felt relaxed. I knew the city from my trip there last December -- I knew where certain shops were, I knew how to get places, my internal compass was set back to Israel in no time. I felt so proud leading Tuvia all over the place in confidence. Jerusalem is my city, it's city plan mapped on my heart. It was a beautiful feeling. Did I mention that Jerusalemites love my hair? Yes, I got a lot of compliments. That, too, was a beautiful feeling!

I have much to say about the rest of the trip, outside of Jerusalem, but it will take some time. My photos are up (mostly) on Facebook, and I'll be throwing some up on Flickr, too. There are a lot -- about 1,001 of them. A lot from the Wedding, a lot from Caesaria, and an abundance of them from everything in between.

Stay tuned, as always! (And yes, in the shuk that is a baby being carted around in a ... well ... cart.) I leave you with this stellar Kashurt certificate to one of America's beloved restaurants at which, yes, Tuvia and I ate. And, for the record, it wasn't that great.

Ruins Found in ... Parking Lot?

I'd like to give a hat tip to The Muqata for bringing this story about a newly found Roman mansion that was destroyed during an earthquake in the 4th century.

A "magnificent" two-story Roman mansion of more than 1,000 square meters has been discovered by archeologists in the City of David Archeological Park outside the capital's Old City, the Antiquities Authority announced on Monday.

Previously, archeologist believed 3rd century Roman ruins extended only to the edge of the Ottoman Old City walls. The discovery of the mansion within the Givati parking lot, outside the walls and adjacent to the City of David, however, suggests Roman construction may have stretched to the bottom of the Silwan Valley, Dr. Doron Ben-Ami, the excavation's director, told The Jerusalem Post on Monday.

"This discovery was very surprising," Ben-Ami said. "We didn't expect to find any Roman building remains within the City of David. We were astonished at how huge the structure is. So far we uncovered 1,000 square meters and the structure still extends beyond the limits of the excavation area."

The find has already revolutionized historians' understanding of Roman settlement in Jerusalem, he said.

For more, read the whole megillah.

Shemonei Esrei: Deconstructed!

Every time I'm davening, I stumble over this bit in the Shemonei Esrei that, translated by Artscroll reads

Rebuilding Jerusalem

And to Jerusalem, Your city, may you return in compassion, and may You rest within it, as You have spoken. May you rebuild it soon in our days as an eternal structure, and may You speedily establish the throne of David within it. Blessed are You, HaShem, the Builder of Jerusalem. 

My beef with the text comes with the bolded words there. The Hebrew looks like this:

The text makes sense to me in that it calls for a rebuilding (uvnei) of Jerusalem, but I find the wording on the throne of David difficult. Jerusalem, after all, was destroyed a few times over, with the Temple -- the first and the second -- being destroyed. In my mind, the rebuilding of Jerusalem is largely in reference to the reestablishment of a Temple, a central place of worship for Jews. But the throne of David, established at one point in Israel, needs not be established but merely to be re-established. It's confusing to me that verb associated with Jerusalem is rebuild, but the verb associated with the throne of David is an original, an establishing.

The verb translated as establish, tachin (להכין), literally means "to prepare, make ready." My favorite Hebrew-English/English-Hebrew online dictionary uses the verbs לייסד, להקים; לבסס for "to establish." (Note: These probably are strictly modern Hebrew verbs, not sure about the Biblical Hebrew. Boneh is pretty standard for building, to build, builder, etc. in the Hebrew Bible. Someone with more knowledge of the varying verbs relating to building or esetablishing or constructing in the Tanakh.)

Thus it seems to me that the text in the Shemonei Esrei is actually calling for Jerusalem to be rebuilt as in the glory days and for the city to be prepared and made ready for the throne of David once again thrive (i.e. be re-established). At any rate, it makes me feel a lot better about reading it every time I daven. It has always seemed awkward to me that it would be "establish." 

Then again, I tend to pick apart words and phrases much more than is necessary. I'm guessing this hasn't bothered anyone else, right?