Just in case you were wondering, Mitzpeh Ramon is not the most happening of places in this holy, holy land.
However, it did make for a very relaxing and picturesque Shabbat. Hanging out on the edge of the makhtesh was spectacular. But aside from that and the occasional mating-rights battle between the local ibexes, there's not much to do in the Negev town.
And on the frying front, tonight: pancakes with rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chips, topped with Ben & Jerry's Phish Food (on sale---38 shekels for two pints).
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Jerusalem Stone (Jeri)
Lots of posts this week...
Last night, my munificent right kidney graciously granted me a delectable (and déjà vu) dose of March merriment by way of a fresh and fidgety new pebbly product.
This is getting to be a little much, body. Consider this post to be a request for the cessation of all intra- and inter-orgran hostilities.
But for now all is good.
Last night, my munificent right kidney graciously granted me a delectable (and déjà vu) dose of March merriment by way of a fresh and fidgety new pebbly product.
This is getting to be a little much, body. Consider this post to be a request for the cessation of all intra- and inter-orgran hostilities.
But for now all is good.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Today's bombing
Rose and I were sitting in our common area watching "Friends" when we heard a dull boom from outside in the distance. It's not so uncommon to hear a sound like that here; it is a city, after all. But then we started hearing sirens. Soon thereafter reports of the bombing started appearing online.
The bomb detonated across from Jerusalem's central bus station, by a bus stop that I've waited at before.
Notably, within minutes the story was given very low priority on the New York Times website (see if you can spot it below, just over an hour after the explosion).
After a fatality was sadly confirmed, the story moved up a little bit. But not by much.
Anyhow, the Rothberg International School took just over an hour to send out a mass-text message alerting us to the attack and requesting that we confirm our safety. No further instructions were given. Typical Rothberg...
Needless to say, we'll be staying in our apartment tonight (with Burgers Bar).
The bomb detonated across from Jerusalem's central bus station, by a bus stop that I've waited at before.
Notably, within minutes the story was given very low priority on the New York Times website (see if you can spot it below, just over an hour after the explosion).
 |
| Screenshot photo / Hillel Buechler |
Anyhow, the Rothberg International School took just over an hour to send out a mass-text message alerting us to the attack and requesting that we confirm our safety. No further instructions were given. Typical Rothberg...
Needless to say, we'll be staying in our apartment tonight (with Burgers Bar).
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Post-Purim post
Shushan Purim in Jerusalem is quite awesome.
After hearing the Megillah read in a nearby synagogue, we eventually ended up at the Hebrew University party: thousands of students in a parking garage. It was great.
It was at that party that I realized that there was a total of perhaps eight different costumes among all the people in this city (all of the stores were selling the same things). Also, I realized that even if this country hasn't exactly worked out the whole democratic thing super perfectly, the Jewish part is pretty evident, at least in character (a famous Purim song at an extremely secular party had the entire room singing together).
Additionally, Israelis have no hesitations about setting off fireworks literally anywhere and everywhere. Their explosive sounds leave locals surprisingly calm.
And for the record, it's not courteous to get on a bus in Jerusalem wearing a giant, full-body costume that exposes only your eyes. It may or may not scare the Americans.
One last thing---on Sunday, Maya Dimant Lentz (Yes, the Maya) and Rose and I were waited on by a 7-year-old girl at a garden restaurant. But it's okay. Maya's going to be an international human rights lawyer.
After hearing the Megillah read in a nearby synagogue, we eventually ended up at the Hebrew University party: thousands of students in a parking garage. It was great.
It was at that party that I realized that there was a total of perhaps eight different costumes among all the people in this city (all of the stores were selling the same things). Also, I realized that even if this country hasn't exactly worked out the whole democratic thing super perfectly, the Jewish part is pretty evident, at least in character (a famous Purim song at an extremely secular party had the entire room singing together).
Additionally, Israelis have no hesitations about setting off fireworks literally anywhere and everywhere. Their explosive sounds leave locals surprisingly calm.
And for the record, it's not courteous to get on a bus in Jerusalem wearing a giant, full-body costume that exposes only your eyes. It may or may not scare the Americans.
One last thing---on Sunday, Maya Dimant Lentz (Yes, the Maya) and Rose and I were waited on by a 7-year-old girl at a garden restaurant. But it's okay. Maya's going to be an international human rights lawyer.
Friday, March 18, 2011
... and roll
After a rigorous academic week here at the Hebrew University (I may not have had any classes since Wednesday morning, but I did have a 3-page paper due a few days ago), it's finally time for Shabbat/Purim/Shushan Purim.
For Jerusalem, it seems that Purim started roughly two days ago. People here have been walking around shamelessly in costume for little apparent reason, although last night did see a justifiable green-theme to that widespread dress code (courtesy of St. Patrick's Day, a huge hit with certain populations of this city).
Alright, it's time for my Friday falafel and this week's special guest, the quick costume search.
For Jerusalem, it seems that Purim started roughly two days ago. People here have been walking around shamelessly in costume for little apparent reason, although last night did see a justifiable green-theme to that widespread dress code (courtesy of St. Patrick's Day, a huge hit with certain populations of this city).
Alright, it's time for my Friday falafel and this week's special guest, the quick costume search.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Funerals
Unfortunately, this post won't have that lighter tone that I like to use in most others.
Avi Scher called me this morning and suggested that we go to the funerals for the five members of the Fogel family that were brutally murdered in their home this past Shabbat.
I had never been to a funeral in Israel---let alone one that would also play a key role in the unraveling of something that had quickly become a national tragedy here.
There were thousands and thousands of attendees, throngs of people standing or sitting in any place that was stand-able or sit-able---ledges, roofs, platforms outside of bathrooms.
The numerous eulogies took on a variety of forms: personal, religious and political. Sometimes the politicized settlement talk was a bit much for me (and my previous notions of proper funeral speak). But overall the funeral was meaningful albeit extraordinarily and disturbingly tragic.
Moti Fogel, the brother of Udi Fogel, spoke the words that stayed with me most clearly: "Atah lo semel ... Atah achi." ("You are not a symbol ... You are my brother.")
Avi Scher called me this morning and suggested that we go to the funerals for the five members of the Fogel family that were brutally murdered in their home this past Shabbat.
I had never been to a funeral in Israel---let alone one that would also play a key role in the unraveling of something that had quickly become a national tragedy here.
There were thousands and thousands of attendees, throngs of people standing or sitting in any place that was stand-able or sit-able---ledges, roofs, platforms outside of bathrooms.
The numerous eulogies took on a variety of forms: personal, religious and political. Sometimes the politicized settlement talk was a bit much for me (and my previous notions of proper funeral speak). But overall the funeral was meaningful albeit extraordinarily and disturbingly tragic.
Moti Fogel, the brother of Udi Fogel, spoke the words that stayed with me most clearly: "Atah lo semel ... Atah achi." ("You are not a symbol ... You are my brother.")
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Sorcerer's
Entry into Adar-Numero-Dos this week was certainly joyous. Unfortunately, however, it also now means that I must come up with something of some sort to dress up as for not one but two Purims. (I'm open to suggestions.) Maybe a group costume with this rosh-edah-for-life...
And although it won't include sitting out in the sun on a Tel Aviv beach, the forthcoming Shabbat in the Kfar is looking pretty promising.
Alright, schnitzel-making time is quickly approaching: time to go get some bread crumbs.
That last link was cruel. My bad.
And although it won't include sitting out in the sun on a Tel Aviv beach, the forthcoming Shabbat in the Kfar is looking pretty promising.
Alright, schnitzel-making time is quickly approaching: time to go get some bread crumbs.
That last link was cruel. My bad.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Rose's mom
And so it was that with the clothing on our backs (in our backpacks) and the food in our shopping bags, we departed Jerusalem and headed to Tel Aviv for the holy Sabbath. And there was a beach. And the weather was beautiful. And it was awesome.
Orthodox services in Tel Aviv are a lot like Conservative services on Long Island: intriguing female garb, cell phones galore and less-than-polite guests for the aufruf.
Oh, and I happened to discover Haina Just-Michael, mother to the famed sister(s) of the same last name(s), wandering around the Kfar last night. Due to a series of what turned out to be intentionally staged misunderstandings, this was both hilarious and relieving.
(Rose had earlier received a sketchy call from someone claiming to be a Kfar security guard. The person on the phone inquired as to exactly where Rose lived in the Kfar because of "a package"---and she obviously told him. (Go Rose.) Consequently, we may have been under the impression that someone was going to attempt to break into our apartment. But it was Just, Haina. Pun very much intended.)
Orthodox services in Tel Aviv are a lot like Conservative services on Long Island: intriguing female garb, cell phones galore and less-than-polite guests for the aufruf.
Oh, and I happened to discover Haina Just-Michael, mother to the famed sister(s) of the same last name(s), wandering around the Kfar last night. Due to a series of what turned out to be intentionally staged misunderstandings, this was both hilarious and relieving.
(Rose had earlier received a sketchy call from someone claiming to be a Kfar security guard. The person on the phone inquired as to exactly where Rose lived in the Kfar because of "a package"---and she obviously told him. (Go Rose.) Consequently, we may have been under the impression that someone was going to attempt to break into our apartment. But it was Just, Haina. Pun very much intended.)
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Cacti
The flower/plant store in Sheikh Jarrah that I pass by several times a week finally received some business from me by way of 45 shekels in exchange for two potted cacti. They're pretty cool. And prickly.
And speaking of really great weather, a bunch of us are heading to Tel Aviv for the weekend for a relaxing Shabbat on the beach. Those of you devotedly reading this from places like Waltham and New York City: Be jealous.
Also, this morning, one of the security guards at the Kfar was putting on his tefillin while on duty; go figure. Oh, Israel.
And speaking of really great weather, a bunch of us are heading to Tel Aviv for the weekend for a relaxing Shabbat on the beach. Those of you devotedly reading this from places like Waltham and New York City: Be jealous.
Also, this morning, one of the security guards at the Kfar was putting on his tefillin while on duty; go figure. Oh, Israel.
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