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.

Trip Number 3: Eilat and Petra (Jordan)

Short bus ride. Long bus ride. Chug chug chugging along. Chug chug chug...what? No more chugging along? SPUTTER. Dead bus.
Our bus died about 30 minutes into the journey. We were stranded on the side of the road in a desert-y area while the driver mopped his forehead and peered at the engine. Three Bedouin women with black face veils, shimmery black tops, baseball caps and Adidas sweatpants/sneakers rode by on donkeys and waved. "We'll get there faster if we take those," my neighbor said cynically. Another bus came to the rescue and we were on our way.
At the midway point of our five hour drive, the driver hopped back in to start the bus. He tried. And tried. And looked like he was about to cry. We were laughing hysterically at this point, sure that we would have to wait for another bus to come and rescue us. Finally, the driver, his face red with the effort, got the bus to start and we were on our way.

Eilat with a view of Petra

We drove through the desert, which never stops astonishing me with its incredible vastness. Mounds and mounds of yellow sand as far as the eye can see, sprinkled with rock but otherwise completely desolate. Such a different world than the over-developed one that I am so used to.
We reached Eilat, one of the southern-most cities in Israel. Now, I was invited on this trip and agreed to go because, well, why not. I really had no idea what Eilat was like or why Petra was exciting. Until I spent a few minutes reading up on both in the last half hour of our bus ride. Eilat is mainly a tourist town. It's attractions are its beach, where there are beautiful coral reefs (hence much scuba diving) and....well, yeah, that's pretty much it.

Trip Number 2: Ein Gedi, Masada and the Dead Sea

You know those moving staircases in Hogwarts Castle? That is sometimes what I feel like life is like in Israel. I do not have to decide or plan out trips I want to take, I just shove stuff in a backpack and GO!
Which is how I came to be found in my kitchen at 12:30AM, cooking all the food I had, trying to pack enough for 2 people to survive for 2 days without buying food. Potato/ginger/curry, green beans and garlic, onions/red peppers/lots of salt, tons of rice, 3 cucumbers, figs, all ready to go. At 2:30AM I went to bed.

8:45AM and I am ready to go, sleeping bag and mat borrowed, as little packed as possible as my bag is mostly full of food. On my way, in a group of 12 people to Ein Gedi, the Dead Sea and Masada. The plan is to hike in the Ein Gedi nature reserve the first day, camp overnight, hike Masada and float in the Dead Sea.









Hike we did, once we finally found the nature reserve.











The desert is BEAUTIFUL. Very dry (obviously, but it needed to be said) and so vast.

 We were hiking next to a tiny little spring that blossomed into waterfalls at various points of the hike. There were many families out, kids splashing around in the cool water. Really makes you think about the value of water. This little bit of green was so precious in the dusty landscape. I was also constantly aware of how much water I had at my disposal, as it was sloshing around heavily on my back.







Up and up and up. If you were to slip, you would slide down forever on grayish reddish rocks. The higher we went, the more amazing the view was.









We could see most of the Dead Sea and so many dunes/cliffs spread below. Barely any green, mainly yellow, and so quiet. Across from us rose more mountains of a similar style: Jordan.

We ended up camping right next to the Dead Sea. I decided not to partake in the evening swim in the Dead Sea as I was already there on Birthright. I also have been deeply scarred by middle school camping trips where I was always freezing, so I was trying my hardest to contain my warmth. This became a bit ridiculous when I had put 4 layers of clothes on and it was still about 75 degrees outside. Amazingly, it remained warm the entire night!!!! We sat around, ate junk food (because there ARE stores, albeit overpriced ones), talked, stared at the millions of stars.

On the edge of one of the Jordanian mountains, I spotted an orange glow. What could it be? The sun rising (it was about 7PM)? A bomb (wow, so negative)? No, is it? Could it really be? It is! It's the moon! As orange as the sun, it rose so quickly. The pitch black that we had experienced for about an hour was gone, as the world around us was light with the dusky white light of the moon. I watched it rise, entranced by its movement. Around me the air was warm and filled with sounds of singing (as huge family groups celebrated Sukkot with a DJ singing Israeli/Jewish songs) and the laughter of my fellows travelers as they talked and tried to dance along to the music (very difficult, as the announcer sang about 35 seconds of each song than got bored and switched). I found myself engaged in many interesting, deep conversations, than floated peacefully in my own thoughts for a while.



Eventually, it was time for bed. A friend and I spread out our sleeping bag and blanket, which we were sharing, and lay down. Above us, the sky was still alive, full of mystical clouds and stars and the moon. That beautiful Lady Moon. I felt myself more in touch with the mystical, spiritual, pagan, witchcraft part of my beliefs. After all, we are all made of stars. So I slept. Next to two friends, a wash of stars above, tons of rocks below, and us, so small, at peace, there, in that moment.
I woke to the hot pink of the sunrise. The entire campsite was waking up with the sun. The Dead Sea was sparkling tantalizingly as the sky moved from pink to peach to orange to yellow to blue. And we were off again.





Up Masada we went on the Snake Path. I have climbed Masada before, but I guess we took the easy route. My body was tired and the steps grew increasingly steep. Not to mention that it was the middle of the day and the sun was beating down on us ruthlessly! Increased my respect for ancestors who lived in the desert. Made me a bit bitter about the people whizzing over my head in the 67NIS cable car to the top.














































With many stops to admire the view (read: catch our breath), we made it to the top of the mountain and began to explore Masada, one of the oldest Roman ruin sites.












Masada was the Winter Palace of the Roman King Herod in the 3-4 centures BCE.













Later, along with the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, Jews holed themselves up in Masada, trying to stave of the siege of the Romans. They held out for a surprisingly long time, but eventually realized the Romans would capture them and make them slaves. Thus, there was a mass suicide, as the Jews would rather die than be made slaves.

Today, Masada remains an very important symbol for Israel. We witnessed a young boy being Bar Mitzvahed and were told that soldiers swear their oath of service on Masada.






We wandered in the three palaces on top of Masada, descended into a huge water cistern, marveled at the beautiful mosaics on the ground of the Western Palace. We continued to be awed by the amazing view, shouted and listened to the echo of our voices as they bounced among the mountains, were astonished at the fact that a palace on top of a mountain had so many baths and ritual cleansing spaces.

It sure was hot! We made our way back down, hopped on a sherut and made it back to Israel by about three. Covered in dust, coming home to little or no food in my pantry, sleep deprived, I realized how lucky I am to be able to travel like this. I can experience so much and end up back in a familiar place. I get to sleep in my bed, cook, take a shower and then go out and do it all again. Why can't all traveling be like this?!

Elisa's Travel Tip: Do not travel in a group of 12 people. It is too many. To fully experience a place and the people, traveling with up to 2 people seems like the best idea. Unless the group you are with is comfortable splitting up. 

Elisa's Travel Tip: Travel with people you know you like. Because when you get tired and cranky, you will hate even the people you like. If the people you are with get on your nerves normally, it will be more difficult!

Trip Number 1: Trip to Tel Aviv

You might ask yourself, as I often do, whether or not I ever attend school. At the moment, it doesn't really feel like I do! I had a week off for Rosh Hashana break (went to Tel Aviv and the Mt. of Olives), had about a week and a half of school and now I have 2 weeks off for Sukkot break. This is fabulous (although made that small amount of in-school time very difficult to focus on!).
I, as a poor college student without a job and in another country, decided that I would try to stay in my apartment for most of the break. I would take a few day trips, but would try to sleep in my own bed and eat food that I had cooked. That was how break started...
Day 1: Woke up. Made a big brunch. Went back to bed. Woke up. Made a huge dinner.
Day 2: Woke up. Went to Meah Sharim, a Hasidic neighborhood, to observe preparations for Sukkot. Most people had departed to different corners of Israel at this point and I realized that I was VERY antsy. I wanted to go somewhere to!!!!!!!







Day 3: At 9:00AM, I find myself zooming perilously down the highway to Tel Aviv.







We arrive and start looking for a hostel. The first place we went to was...well, scary to say the least. In fact, I'm not sure it was hostel. There was just a lonnngggg dark hallway with ominous looking doorways and a lot of trash on the ground. We hustled out of there as fast as we could. The next place we went to looked a little bit less sketchy. A friend jumped to pull the bell, which was placed at about 7 feet in the air, and we were buzzed up.

Full of young people. "Chill"
is a good word. Made me feel like
I was back at school!!

"Heeyyyyy, you all must be the people from Costa Rica," a man who was obviously very hungover said while high-fiving us. "No," we responded. "We just want a room." We were offered a bed on the roof for 60 shekels (a bit less than $20). We agreed.

"What a strange place," I kept saying. The chic, young
and artsy mixed with what were basically shanty-towns.

No one was out, as it was the first day of Sukkot. 

Off we went to the beach, snacking on pita and hummus that one of our savvy traveler friends had packed in his bag. The Mediterranean was soooo blue and sooo beautiful. Everyone was out, as it was the first day of Sukkot and most of the shops were closed. People were barbecuing and flying kites and swimming: it was LOVELY. My friends were actually given a huge amount of BBQ as we were walking along by a very kind family. Good feeling was all around! 










We found a spot on the beach and jumped into the water. Only to find that this section of the beach was much less clean than the last one we were at. We were surrounded by floaty things that ranged from plastic bags, seaweed and discarded hats to other objects which were less easily identifiable. It had been a long day (HAHA) and a nap was in order.

A friend and I stretched out, him to read and me to sleep, although I quickly fell asleep, while our other two friends continued to frolic in the waves. They then began to build an epic sandcastle while simultaneously digging two very deep holes that they could stand in, making it look like they had lost their legs. When I woke up to this sight, I was very confused, haha.

Jaffa port at sundown. 

After three hours on the beach, we decided to search for food. We headed in the direction of Old Jaffa. When I came here for Birthright in January, Jaffa was my favorite place in Israel. It was the place I claimed I wanted to live if I ever settled in Israel. I wasn't sure why then and I have no idea now, but Jaffa is still my favorite place in Israel. It is beautiful and homey feeling.

Sigh. No words. 

Kiortush and a cappuccino.

We found a store called "Kiortush" and sat down for a coffee. The people at the neighboring table ordered this amazing pastry-thing and we decided that it was a necessary part of our experience to order one as well. We ordered a kiortush with halva (sweet sesame seed paste) in between the layers of the dough, caramel and toasted almonds on the outside. It. Was. Amazing.






Our destiny was Dr. Shakshuka. Shakshuka is basically two sunny-side up eggs in spicy tomato sauce. Lucky for me, unless specified, it is ALWAYS vegetarian. We were told this was the best shakshuka ever, so we decided to wander around Jaffa until it was time to eat.


We found the port and caught the end of the sunset. It was so beautiful, it took my breath away.

The view of Tel Aviv from the Jaffa Port area. 

So many families, of all different colors and sizes, were out, wandering around. There was beautiful art on the walls (some may call it graffiti, but I don't. This seems to exist all over Tel Aviv. There is a plethora of purple eggplants, bandaids, the word "sperm," different monster-like creatures and very inspirational, matter-of-fact statements sprayed onto the sides of so many buildings). We took picture after picture, reveling in being tourists, until we finally found our way back to Dr. Shakshuka. And ate and ate and ate.




Afterwards, what else could we do but eat some more? So we went to get frozen yogurt/gelato (I'm not sure what it was, as it was claimed to have both). The flavors ranged from the basic (chocolate, vanilla) to the unique (Werther's candy, nutella, ferro roche). I got Snickers and caramel.
Had we eaten enough? Yes. We wandered around for a bit. Entire streets were taken up by candle-lit tables at little restaurants. It was so gorgeous and, well, romantic. Eventually, we ventured back to our hostel, to change and rest, with plans of going out in the evening. We ended up just sitting around, looking at the stars and talking. I ordered my first beer, drank 1/8th of it and gave it away. I really don't like beer. Slowly, we got sleepier and sleepier, till we were tucked on our respect sofas/hammocks.
A midnight revelation: I was, for the first time, celebrating Sukkot. Sukkot was the first real Jewish holiday I celebrated with my family. It is a very pagan celebration of the harvest. You construct a temporary building (with various requirements, of course. One is that you must be able to see the stars) and put decorations of fall fruits around it. And here I was, with a see-through tarp over my head and the moon right above me. Beautiful.
I woke up to a blue, blue sky. We decided we needed another kiortush before we left. The man who was working yesterday was tickled to see us. "This is the best thing you ate here, yes?" YES, I told him.

We then wandered around the area, where there were tons of antiques and various other items being sold in the street. I bought a pair of very flowy, genie-like pants which are in very vogue here. I then bargained (kind of) for a bunch of bangles. Check one on my bucket list: bargain! It was fun. We Americans are so reserved: it is hard to bargain!!!! But, the shop owner obviously was having a blast, enjoying our discomfort. "It is Shabbat, I just want to go home. You want for 200NIS? No, 350NIS. Here, you take. I just want to go home!" was his running monologue as my friend tried to buy a large tapestry (amusingly, we had just watched him fill in the pattern on another tapestry with a cheap felt tip pen). When we left, he smiled at us and shook our hands, wishing us happy holidays. He then pinched my cheek and told me I was so beautiful in a very grandfatherly way.
It was then time to split up. A friend and I were going to a dance performance (The Project) at the Tel Aviv Opera House, while our other friends were planning on wandering around.
After the performance, we grabbed huge slices of pizza (we hadn't eaten anything for hours! GASP!). Hopped on a bus and were headed home to Tel Aviv. We actually knew how to get back this time and our way around Tel Aviv! We still walked around a ton, but it was all in good fun. Got off the bus, very groggy, bargained down a taxi driver and ended up back in my apartment. Great adventure.  Bring on the next one!

Just learning the wrong history

It's 3:30AM and I am awake. It is in fact the only time in the past 12 hours that I have felt lucid enough to do anything. Thus, I am catching up on life in the wee hours of the morning.

After spending that great day in Tel Aviv, I returned home for some quality R&R. For the first time since I was 12, I slept till 1 in the afternoon! Woke up at 11, ate breakfast, read, went back to sleep. It was amazing. Our apartment was also incredibly quiet - surprising how the absence of 2/5 people can make such a difference in the noise level!

When I woke up, I decided to go for a run. There had been some conversation at a little after-dinner get together about all the great places there are to run to/around in the area. After this conversation, I felt inspired to check out the area. I also hadn't run in about a month. Running is my favorite ways to see more of where I live (and to stay in shape!).

Running shoes on, clothes that I hoped were decently modest on, I groggily strolled out of the apartment. I got slightly sidetracked when I decided that I should find my mailbox. I have only lived here for a month, maybe it was about time! Unfortunately, my key didn't work! I stood in the creepy, narrow mail room for 5 minutes, jiggling the stupid key, while letters with my name on them sat there tantalizingly. Thank goodness for a friend of a friend who resolutely stood there rattling the entire wall of mailboxes until the latch on mine (and possibly a few others) clicked open.

Anyways, away I went. I decided to run to the Mt. of Olives. The Mt. of Olives is the oldest Jewish cemetery. It sits East of the Old City. I have been reading a fantastic book about the history of Israel and the Bible and was incredibly curious. Run, run, run. Thank goodness I am in shape! Because the hills here are relentless and seem to be about a mile long! Keeping my internal compass in check, I turned this way and that and found myself, after only 15 minutes, in a completely different world. An Arab neighborhood. Honestly, this isn't that strange. The Student Village is basically located in East Jerusalem and we are surrounded by Arab neighborhoods (student orientation went a bit like this: "So, don't go to any of these areas marked in red." Basically all the areas surrounding the Student Village...). I felt a bit of panic rise up in me. Honestly, the people in the neighborhood looked just about as shocked to see me merrily jogging along as I was shocked to have entered into such a completely different world. Whereas most of the street signs in the area that I traverse the most are written in Hebrew, Arabic and English, all of the signs in this area were written in Arabic (later, a friend joked that they could say anything, such as "beware of land mines" and we would have no clue!). I think Arabic is absolutely beautiful. As I ran, I found myself confronting this strange discrimination/prejudice that I wasn't really aware I had until in this situation. As an American, as a Westerner, as a Jew, there exist so many stereotypes and negative images of Arabs (whether Christian, Muslim, secular, etc.). But I LIVE in the Middle East. I realized that this was and is something that I need to think more about.
Running didn't last for very long, as I began to speed more and more out of control down a hill. Not to mention that it was the hottest time of day...Somehow, I made it to the Mount of Olives. I walked past the Tomb of Mary, technically where she ascended to heaven, and the beautiful Basilica of Agony, the last place that Jesus prayed before he was betrayed by the Romans. These were only a few of the beautiful places that I saw as I walked by, open-mouthed, dripping in sweat. I was also fascinated by the people. Everywhere in Jerusalem, extremely religious Jews are easy to spot. But here there were also Christians and Muslims in full religious garb. And so many tourists. I could just imagine what they were whispering to each other: "Such diversity! Look at all those religious people! And then there is that girl running, just like in any other modern city!" Or something along those lines.
After stopping to admire the stark white beauty of the Mt. of Olives and to try to forget about how thirsty I was (really, to ignore the irrational part of me that told me it wouldn't be disgusting for me to pick up a random bottle full of whatever and drink it. Cause that would be safe, right?), I began to make the trek back, having resolved to return as soon as I could.

Which I did. 3 friends in tow, we trekked the same route back to the Mt. of Olives the next day. We had done thorough research on the places we were visiting and were all incredibly enthusiastic about getting to spend so much time in such a religiously important, ancient place. I was so grateful to be traveling with such fantastic people! We talked about the historical, religious and political issues while gawking at the everything we passed. Truly tourists, we were, decked out in backpacks, water bottles, cameras and maps. When do you really stop being a tourist?
We visited tombs of prophets, tried to read the Hebrew inscribed on the graves, stared at the beautiful view of the Old City. I talked and talked about all I had read about: how, in the time period that the Second Temple was built, most religious structures were built facing the East. But Jews pray to the Western Wall because it was closest to the innermost sanctum of the Second Temple, the Holy of Holies, where, once upon a time, God was actually thought to have lived. We marveled at ruins dating back to the time of the City of David and the fact that these ruins exist underneath the ground that we walk/drive upon today. We wandered the Old City, traversing the Arab quarter in search of food, as that quarter was not closing down for Shabbat yet.
We ended our FABULOUS day sitting at a small lookout point above the Western Wall, the Kotel. I convinced the people I was with that it was imperative we stay to watch the actual proceedings of Shabbat, as my Shabbat spent there on Birth Right was a huge part of me wanting to return. So, we sat (and napped) for about an hour and a half as below us, the divided sides of the Kotel began to fill with men in black suits and hats and women in dark wigs and modest skirts. All of a sudden, we heard loud singing. An enormous circle had formed close to one of the entrances of the Western Wall area and people were hopping in, dancing around, singing a song to celebrate the arrival of Shabbat. I hummed along, my eyes filling! I find Israel such a fascinating, difficult place to understand. It is so charged, politically, religiously, historically. It means so much to so many people and I find myself empathizing more and more with everyone in their quest to claim it as their home. It makes me chuckle to think how entranced I am with the history of this tiny land; it is more passion for one place than I ever felt for American history. Watching the proceedings of Shabbat as the sun set and Shabbat, one of my favorite and one of the most meaningful holidays in my Jewish background, tugged at my heartstrings in the way my Birth Right Shabbat had. My Jewish identity, and Jewish identity in general, has often troubled me. I think it is a struggle for many people to understand themselves in this religion/ethnicity/nation. But watching Shabbat, where everyone is singing the same songs and praying prayers known to all, at a spot so holy to so many religions, where there are people of all colors wearing kippas, and the muezzins' call to prayer has begun from all sides and the bells in the Churches have just stopped tolling...it took my breath away.

And it all brings to mind the question: whose history are we really learning? Are you really learning? Running through those Arab neighborhoods was hard: sidewalks seemed so scarce, as there was no official parking. Back into the Jewish neighborhoods and everything gets nicer, less crowded, less dirty, less dusty. Am I part of the problem or the solution? I'm not really sure of the answers, but I know that I want to try to learn as much about every side of the history of this amazing, tough place.

Like wings on water...

As always, strong Elisa won out.
After taking a class with the famous Ohad Naharin, two friends and I decided to brave Tel Aviv. It was decided that we were going to do this about an hour or so before we left and I assigned myself the task of figuring out where we would stay/how we would get back. Sadly, I (maybe unsurprisingly) got distracted after writing down a bus number and a few names of hostels. Thus, we ended up wandering around using my handy-dandy touristy Israel! book. After finding some delicious food (I ate shakshuka, a totally Israeli dish. Basically is sunny-side-up eggs cooked in tomato sauce. With a cute little loaf of bread on the side (lachmania in Hebrew!). Unfortunately, I have been abstaining from eating eggs while here, as they still freak me out. Thus, the meal was delicious, but a little strange. For dessert, I ordered vanilla gelato in a cup of espresso. YUM!), we attempted to find a hostel. We realized this morning that we walked the majority of Tel Aviv in our search! Finally we found one, paid and went to bed. Mission one accomplished. I have never in my entire life done something like that. Wandered around with no notion of where I am going to sleep. We contemplated sleeping on the beach, which would have been fabulous. Next time. But, like always, situations that could be problematic seem to put me in a state of complete calm and I was not at all worried about what would happen.
We woke up, ate breakfast and walked the two blocks to the beach. DE-Licious. The Mediterranean is beautiful, a deep blue, green. Walk in and take a close look at the bottom. You see little gray fishes swimming calmly around your feet. We floated for so long, rolled in the sand, floated some more. It was lovely. Then we began our adventure to try to get back. Once again, we had little to go off of but a map and the number of a bus. After sitting outside a vacant bus station, I reread the sign and realized that it said "lila" (it also said some other words, however, I could not read them!). We quickly deduced that that bus was probably not going to come any time soon, wandered around a bit more and made it onto the next bus to Jerusalem.
Sitting on the bus thinking, I felt very proud of myself. I have never been the type of person who really looks up to other people in the way that I feel most do. I always find the most strength and courage by reflecting on the things that I have been able to do in my past. This night was a true beginning to actually immersing myself in the world of Israel. It only makes me feel like I can do more, see more, learn more.

Tel Aviv is very different than Jerusalem. Walking around Jerusalem in shorts that would be considered a moderate length in the US can be rather uncomfortable. I simply feel disrespectful and very aware of the Hasidic, Orthodox and Muslim people around me. But in Tel Aviv, things are much more like what I am used to. Everything stays open late at night, there are many young people, there are dogs instead of the ridiculous number of cats that wander around Jerusalem. In our journey, we saw many parts of Tel Aviv. To be honesty, it felt a bit like Boston, but all the buildings are built with white stone. We walked past the tent cities, which look rather homey now, full living room sets placed outside of some. We wandered past beautiful gardens, many cute cafes, and stores that are oft seen in the US.

Traveling simply made me feel like I COULD accomplish all that I want to. We were hungrily attempting to read all the signs and trying to figure out what they said. We were listening to people talk and getting really excited when we recognized words or even phrases ("Yesh hadash?" "Ken": Do you have new (bread)? Yes.). It was a fabulous reality check.

Now I am back in Jerusalem with great plans to travel and sight see as much as I can during Rosh Hashana break. It is, after all the new year. Time to set the pace for the next one!

To you all, Shana Tova!

Shalom! Naim Me'od!

So today was the first day of class and I am reeling! Hebrew from 9-2 Sun through Thurs then dance for 3 hours an hour after! Whew!!!! And having class on Sundays is very confusing - I am still convinced today is Monday!

So, this weekend we went up north. A long bus ride, then an Israeli breakfast which consisted of a bag of chocolate milk, which was fabulous, and a roll, which was not so great. Then we began our hike. The hike was supposed to be easy. Me, a kid from CO in decent shape, figured it couldn't be too bad. The beginning wasn't....and then on the way back up, well, let's just say, we were hiking at at least a 70 degree angle. I was cruising past poor people who were panting and wheezing, but boy oh boy was I tired when I got up to the top! In between, the guides lead us to a waterfall. It was beautiful and tiny, although actually the biggest waterfall in Israel. "Swim!" the guides said. "What?" we said. Israelis have a different concept of communication than we Americans. Instead of telling us 50 times when we would need our bathing suits, they just randomly told us to have them. So, we all jumped in in shorts and sports bras and t-shirts. It was a blast. Soooo beautiful. Did I take  pictures? No. Lame. Sorry!

Then we went to the hostel at Tel Hai. We had a Shabbat service - my first Orthodox one. I was trying to explain the little I know about Judaism to the new friends that I had made, while trying to understand the service myself. I have NEVER before sat through an Orthodox service. The barrier was up between men and women and it was verryyy different, although the boys kept crossing over to talk to the gals, which was funny. Made me miss my reform temple and Wes' services!!!

We did some bonding, which was astonishingly fun (Israeli games are much  more creative than American ones: find 7 gumballs in a tray of flour! Eat a pan of bomba covered in chocolate and carmel  (bomba is basically peanut flavored cheetos)). A nice evening sing-a-long and then bed.

The next day, we were taken to an Industrial Park. At first it was fun, as we got to wander around a really neat photography museum (the only one in Israel), but then we were put in front of a video about how industrial parks are changing the world. They are bringing about peace, didntchaknow?! It was very odd. Luckily, I slept through most of it, hee hee.

More food! We were most excited about the food. None of us have really started cooking yet and having a hot meal was AMAZING. Not to mention more and more and more. Ate so mmmuuccchhh. Soon, we were on our way home. I maintained a long conversation with an Orthodox lad and learned so much. What different views of religion we have!!!!!!!!

Classes started yesterday and, even though I know some Hebrew, my brain was EXPLODING. Hebrew from 9-2 is pretty intense! But, I'm picking it up fast, as are my classmates.

Today I had my first dance class. Taught by two famous Israeli choreographers: Noa and Rina Wertheim. They were amazing. The first part, with all the typical modern dance theory stuff (move like your vertebrae is water, move like there is a stick up your butt) was great and pretty normal for me. Then "on your feet!" they commanded and began teaching us a combination. 30 seconds later, everyone knew the first part and I was looking around like "what?!". I worked my butt off. I'm glad I'm at least in shape and not affected by the altitude (woot CO!). I have a LONG way to go but will learn a lot. One of my roommates, who I really respect, didn't give me any crap about being fine. "You'll work really hard," she said. "It will be a trial and if you approach it the right way, you'll learn a lot. If not, you won't." I agree. And I plan to not be intimidated and just keep working hard.

My accomplishment of the day? I learned how to do a jete! They put this into the dance we were learning and everyone knew how to do it. I was pretty intimidated. A jete is when you spin your torso and your legs come out looking like they are straight and fully extended. A bad explanation for a beautiful move. I am pretty comfortable with the other dancers, thank God (otherwise I would be sooooo intimidated), and asked them to teach me. In 2 minutes, they had shown me a move that they have been working on forever. I have a loonnggg way to go before it looks near as pretty, but I am planning on practicing up and down the halls of Rothberg!

Rock on beauties!