This Tastes Like Jesus: Christmas

Let's begin with the Christmas party. We decided to have our Christmas dinner on Shabbat night, two days before Christmas because we always do Shabbat dinner!  

Our menu: Cornbread covered in dulce de leche made out of goat milk, latkes, Chinese noodles, bread, cheese, applesauce (homemade with cranberries), applesauce from a jar, mashed potatoes with LOTS of butter and sour cream, broccoli and other veggies, a pear pie with whole wheat crust, a berry pie with whole wheat crust, and ice cream! 

The venue: my apartment. My roommate was in charge of cleaning, inviting and decorating. She bought beautiful flowers and placed them all over the apartment, some in wine bottles and some floating in cute little dishes of water. She lit tons of tea lights and lined the counters and tables with them. We cut out some snowflakes which were taped up to the window. A bunch of friends showed up with food in hands and a 3-D Christmas tree they had made (way better than my 2-D one). They placed it under the sign that read "Presents Here". Somehow, everybody had managed to dress up in Christmasy colors and I turned on the Christmas carols. Another friend brought over these very strange candies that looked like little Christmas presents. Everything was ready and Christmasy! Let's eat! 

December 22

Wake up early. Make 10 eggs with sauteed garlic and onions. Add some fresh basil.

Start off to school. Report my apartment's latest craziness. 

Attend Hebrew class where my teacher speaks increasingly quickly in order to finish reviewing in time for us to eat. I cannot think without eating so I stare blankly at the board. We present her with a beautiful necklace to thank her as she was an amazing teacher. She must know at least 5 languages fully and bits and pieces of pretty much every other language. 

Head home, take a 2 hour nap to try to catch up on the sleep I have been missing because of the delicious, heavy late dinners we have and the homework that I try to do while my eyes heavily drift shut. Wake up, head to Tmol Shilshom, an adorable bookstore with amazing milkshakes with some friends. 

We decide to take the train. We get to the train station and neither of the 2 ticket machines will take our money because there is no change in the machines!!! Decide to take the bus. Which is at least 90 degrees despite the fact that it was a pleasant 75 outside. We sweat and chat with other students we run into on the bus. It takes us an hour to a place that we could have walked to in less time, but it was fun! Meet up with friends and start studying. Our chatter over milkshakes and coffee drives everyone else away. We study hard, preparing for the finals that are stretched out over the next three weeks.

You just gotta learn to laugh.

It makes me laugh and laugh and laugh how silly life can be here sometimes.

It is as a friend once told me: Israel tries soooo hard to be part of the West. But at the end of the day, things are really very Middle Eastern. This dichotomy can drive you crazy

A list of this week's grievances:

• Last weekend, on Friday night, our water heater simply did not turn on. I learned how to do everything while walking around in a towel because I was hoping the water would heat up. It did not. So I soaped up and hopped under the freezing cold drizzle. It took my breath away, it was so cold!! It was also Shabbat and NOBODY works on Shabbat. Thus, I knew I would have to wait until Sunday to say anything. Saturday, only more of the same. Sunday I couldn't not shower anymore. So, I heated up water in the tea kettle, poured half of it into one big pot and the other half into another pot. Added some cold water (I have learned from scalding myself these past few weeks to remember that boiling hot water is in fact REALLY hot). Soaped up. Dumped it over my head. It was actually a pretty nice shower. My roommate just decided to use the cold water. She woke my other roommate up with her screaming. Cranky household that day...

"If you need a little touch of America, go to the West Bank"

"Hey, want to go to Bethlehem with us?" "SURE!" 

You hear a lot of things about the West Bank. In America, there is an insecurity about this Palestinian land. In Israel, the opinions range, as do those of international students. Our schools and sometimes our families tell us that it is unsafe to go there. I have heard many people say, "The West Bank? Yeah, I'd love to go. But I'm Jewish. And I LOOK Jewish." (I always find that statement funny as I feel like internationals are identified more with their nation than with their religion, especially as the Jewish stereotypes that exist in America are not the exact ones that exist about Israeli Jews.) Other people are very nonchalant about it. I didn't know what to think, but I decided that, regardless, I was going to go. 

I was invited on this trip by a friend who is interning with the UN. He absolutely loves wandering around the West Bank and he served as our tour guide throughout, explaining to us the political tensions, the best places to get fried chicken, and what we should see. 

We boarded a bus at Damascus Gate. An Arab bus. That is really what people call them. Paid our 10 shekels and began to make our way through suburbs of Jerusalem that I have never seen before. All of a sudden, we were surrounded simply by hills with little groupings of houses on top of them. Some of them were settlements, distinguishable in their defiant-neatness. Others were Arab cities, looking much more ramshackle but filled with building materials, as though no one could decide whether they were being built up or torn down. 

The security barrier, which DOES not follow the green line at all.
In some places, it is simply a fence, in others it is a wall, and in
some places it looks like this. The overhang is so that people
cannot shoot down at cars.

As you can see, the Security Barrier cuts through many parts of the West Bank that it is not supposed to. Very clever, if you think about it, but it really, really has hurt the lives of Palestinians. It separates many farmers from their crops, people from their schools and jobs etc. It makes commuting disastrous and frustrating. Israel is taking over more land than it is supposed to regardless of the people whom they are taking the land from. One of the many things that I spent this short trip contemplating. 

Green line = The line drawn in 1949 to demarcate
the difference between Israel and a potential
Palestine. The red line is the part of the security
fence that has been completed. The purple is the part that
is planned, as is the blue.

 The wall has been covered in art and words. This is not a phenomenon isolated in Palestine; art covers many walls in Israel. But it was obvious that the Security Barrier was a very relevant canvas for the people's protests, messages, thoughts, hopes etc.

Hoofing it in Haifa

6:45 WHY AM I AWAKE? I don't think I have class today, right? Great! I must've just turned my alarm on accidentally. I'll turn it off and go back to bed. Zzz...OH! We're going to Haifa!

7:15 "Elisa, someone is here!" "WHAT?" I walk out, bed head hair sticking out in all different directions. "Why are you here so early? I still have 15 minutes! Go away!"

7:30 I speed out of my room after downing a cup of hot tea and we head to catch a bus.

7:45 We pass a ton of security guards standing around looking worried. An ambulance is on its way. We look concerned, then get on the bus.

8:00 One of my guy friend's grabs my face cause he knows that it annoys me. I proceed to lick him. The Hasidic man sitting next to us looks incredibly disturbed. Then moves.

Prejudice

It never ceases to amaze me the prejudices that people have and that they feel comfortable expressing, regardless of who they are around (although more often than not it seems exacerbated by who one is around). Traveling around Jerusalem, this tension is constantly felt. And it really doesn't matter whom you are with. The secular like to believe that it is the religious who cause all the problems. They get angry that some of the streets are blocked off on Shabbat so that no cars can drive through, they complain about the lack of stores and transportation in operation on Shabbat and holidays as well. The religious contribute to the problem, and the fanatics throw stones or bleach at those who disrupt their lifestyles. Everyone is so angry at everyone else.

What bothers me the most about the prejudice that I am most often exposed to, that of the secular, is that it comes from international students. I have never even heard an Israeli citizen living in Jerusalem complain about living in Jerusalem. This could be because I am not around Israelis very often, but I wonder if they also understand that, having chosen to live in Jerusalem, this is how things operate. It is not true of the rest of Israel. Almost everywhere else, things continue to operate on Shabbat, even if at a slower pace, similar to that of Sundays in the States. I simply cannot understand this prejudice. Often times I say something or make a mean face when someone makes fun of the eight little children crowded around a tired looking Hasidic woman or when people make blanket statements about the religious, but I more and more feel the increase of this antipathy.

Jerusalem Syndrome

I woke up two days ago to find that there was no water in the Kfar Hastudentim (Student Village). I had yet to shower, wash my face, brush my teeth or make myself breakfast. And I had piles of dirty dishes in my room that needed to be done. I went about my morning routine as best as I could without water, splashing some really old water from a water bottle on my face when I could no longer stand feeling dirty. Why, I wondered, did I have no idea that the water would be shut off? Why had no signs been posted?

When I walked out of my apartment building to head to class, I saw why. Take a look:

It is often a source of hilarity for us native English speakers to read signs posted in Israel. Reading this explains why no one was aware that the water would be shut off. After all, I am not currently in need of a massage...

Learning to Listen to the Music

My life at Wesleyan is characterized by my constant motion. In my hot pink backpack I carry at least two changes of clothes (one for dance class, one for work), snacks, homework, books etc. My friends know that I am always rushing off to somewhere. And I love it. I relish it. There is never anything that I want to give up.

The beautiful view of Jerusalem that I have from my living room. Where I am sitting, not doing homework, listening to music and just being!

When I decided to come to Israel, I knew that I was coming because I wanted to experience a different place. Choosing my classes for the semester, therefore, presented me with a very difficult problem. Should I take as many as I normally do at Wesleyan or take fewer, give myself time to actually experiencethis wonderful place in which I am living? Back and forth I went. Finally, I made my decision. It was more important to me to actually BE in Israel and to learn from that than to take as many classes as I could.

While my roommates and friends delightedly compared how little time they had, a game I almost always win at Wesleyan, I sat and listened in silence. I couldn't help feeling racked by guilt. What was I thinking? I should be taking as many classes as I could!!! I should be working myself to the bone! That is the only way to experience things!!!
But somehow, despite all of my guilt, I persevered. I did not add any extra classes and I actually managed to condense my schedule so that I would have class from Sunday-Thursday morning, giving me an almost completely free Thursday.
And I am so happy.