ShtuyotFromIsrael: Week 2.5

I never thought I could be one of those people who could write a blog, but I gave it a shot (as per request of the folks at home), and guess what!!! I’m not. So I guess if you are reading this… have fun!

I arrived here in The Holy Land, the Land of Milk and Honey, the Land of Our Forefathers, Eretz Kodsheinu, (and the list could go on –but I’ll spare you the rambling for a few minutesJ), two and a half weeks ago. We got here, ninety-one eager and strong…and tired…and hungry… Nativ-ers.

After 21 hours of travel, the excitement was tremendous, but the anticipation of the journey ahead was the most overwhelming feeling I have ever felt (and for those of you who have ever seen me 15 minutes before a test—that’s saying something). At that point, it was 7:30 in the evening and after a short detour to look out over the magnificent land that surrounds us, we finally went “home.”

[[[[Okay, Mommy, breathe. I know you’re about to call me up and say “HOME?! THAT IS NOT YOUR HOME. HERE! BELLEVUE, WA! THAT IS YOUR HOME. YOUR ONE AND ONLY.” But, don’t worry. In this context “home” is just another word for house, I only have one home in that city with the big needle thing... the one that I have a picture of on my wall [here] with “don’t forget where you came from” written on the back. I am pretty sure it is Jodi Schwartz’s handwriting too… [Could that be, Jo?]]]]]

Anyway… we got to Beit Nativ and we ate...no, we really ATE, and then, without skipping a beat, they swept us away so they could talktalktalktalktalk to us. Do you think any of us remember a thing they said? No? Well, you’re wrong because I clearly remember them saying “you probably won’t remember any of this..” But that was about all I remember. Funny how selective memory works like that…

Eventually after we all got to our rooms, called our parents (only to find out that they won’t pick up the phone because, did you hear? The crying at the airport is only a façade, they don’t really miss us…cough cough), and many failed attempts of ninety teenagers trying to connect to one teeny-tiny internet server at the same time, sleep was the only thing left to do.

Fast forward through days of orientations and approaching the same people over and over again saying “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” (only to figure out you met them an hour earlier but now they’ re wearing different color shirt), and school begins!

College. Who signed me up for this? Oh wait… I vaguely remember doing that...Huh? Well, it’s a beautiful phenomenon to only have two classes a day, but maybe even more of a phenomenon that with only two classes a day, I feel like I am spending more time doing my work then I did when I had nine classes a day…

But the beauty of college is that that you choose your classes! Well, okay, fine. I lied. Right now us Nativers are amidst our “Minimester” which is a series of intensive courses fit into a three week period so that we can get an optimal learning experience by beginning classes before the chagim. Didn’t I make that sound nice? Well it is, in certain respects. All of the kids that tested out of level alef and bet ulpan classes have mandatory Zionism and Jerusalem courses, and then have the option to take either a Jewish text course or a course that studies Jewish history through film. I started the film class only to realize that although I could manage staying awake through the movies (regardless of the dark room and the shades being closed after getting little to no sleep), it did not mean (no matter how much sleep I got) that I could stay awake through the lectures of a teacher that could care less about showing any sort of excitement, passion, or interest at all in what she taught—or in anything for that matter—except for that one day she got really excited about a stoned bar mitzvah boy in a movie she saw…but I digress. It turns out I made a great decision! The Jewish text class is intriguing and really makes me think. It also makes me appreciate the classes I took at NYHS, especially classes like Navi, Gemara, and Jewish History.

This week I signed up for my classes that I am going to take during the actual semester that begins in a few weeks! I had to petition to be admitted to a Holocaust course, because it is no longer a freshman level course, and I am hoping that my day-school background will help me! Otherwise, I am taking Hebrew, a class in Israeli society, and a class that follows Christianity from “Jewish Jesus” to the religion’s formation. I have yet to find out whether I have been admitted to the Holocaust course, but if I don’t get in, I am hoping to switch up my schedule a bit to take an anti-Semitism course and an Israeli politics course (both of which I cannot take if I get into the Holocaust class).

Living in Israel is almost a surreal experience. We are living in history. In my Jerusalem course we go out and visit historical sites to learn the history of the city, and then we walk down the street to go home afterwards. It’s crazy!

Nativ’s base also happens to be conveniently located in the center of Jerusalem. We can walk basically everywhere we want to go. Last week my friends and I walked down to the Ben Yehuda Street area on Thursday night and I saw six of my friends from school as well as my best friend from California! [Let’s be honest, every American teenager hangs out there on Thursday night, but that in no way detracts from how cool it is that we run into each other!] Rena and Sarah Varon came over the other night to spend some time with me, I ran into Julz coming home from the train after being in Be’er Sheva, and I saw Sarah Rossen crossing the street when I was on the bus! (I hadn’t even realized she was in Israel yet!)

I was not kidding when I said that we live in the center of Jerusalem. The prime minister’s house is a one-and-a-half-minute-step-outside-the-front-door, the Kotel is a 15 minute walk, and the shuk is about 7 minutes walking also. This being the case, I have already experienced probably one of the coolest things I will encounter in these next months. Motzei Shabbat of our first Shabbat here, a protest was held throughout Israel. The organizers were attempting to get one million Israelis out on the streets in protest of social justice issues taking place in Israel right now. This all started with the remarkably high costs of living in Tel Aviv that caused a woman who was evicted from where she lived to pitch a tent on public grounds in protest of the high rent costs. The action she took caused an uproar around the country resulting in the protest that took place right outside of Beit Nativ, literally. My friends and I took to the street (and when I say took to the street I mean, stepped outside the gate of our building) to be a part of the experience. The protest had yet to start so we ventured out to grab a quick bite of shwarma—yum!—and then headed back to base/the protest. We returned to a sea of people covering the streets surrounding our base. It was estimated that there were between thirty and fifty thousand people in Jerusalem, and hundreds of thousands in Tel Aviv, but not quite a million showed. In any case, there was no way we could have made it back to where the stage was set up (because now the streets were COVERED), so we made our way up to the roof of our building which was just as good as having front row seats. Now, I did not understand much of what was said (because Israelis just have to speak so darn fast), but I was able to pick out a few things. One woman spoke about how Israel was founded by kibbutzim that were centered around social-justice and goodwill, yet, sixty years later, thousands of the country’s citizens have taken to the streets chanting and screaming “ה-עם. דו-רש. צ-דק ח-ב-ר-ת-י“ (“The nation demands social justice”). What she said after that was beyond me, but [without taking the risk of forming an ill-informed opinion on the issue] I think it is an interesting thing to think about. Seeing Israeli society from this angle made everything so real. The people. The problems. The experience. We even got to experience “Shlomo Artzi Live Behind Beit Nativ.” Now who else can say they’ve done that before?!

…well, the tens of thousands of other people who were there…but….

Anyway…

It has been two weeks and I just feel so fortunate for this experience. The freedom we get is great, but that doesn’t come close to the fact that I am here to begin with. I am surrounded by nice staff members who are [usually] helpful, a wonderful group of kids, and a beautiful country. I don’t think I could ever thank my parents enough for giving me this once in a lifetime experience, but I guess I’ll begin attempting now: Thank you! You know I think you are the bestest parents in the universe [insert hug here], I love you and miss you!!!

(There are also those kids who I call my siblings, I LOVE YOU GUYS AND MISS YOU LIKE CRAZIES)

<3 JamieLeeSchwartz