It's about one thirty am and I'm sitting on the purple couch, as I often do at the end of each week to write my blog posts. I'm cold because of the chill from the open window behind me and my hair is wet. The weather has spontaneously decided to become winter again, and I'm uncomfortably full from three months of eating Hummus and Pitah Bread. My feet hurt and the glands in my throat are swollen wich makes sleeping only a mildly satisfying event. My feet hurt and I want nothing more than for someone to rub them and tell me it will all be okay. Tomorrow marks my second official week as a 'Weekly Madricha' and I don't know weather to look forward to it or not. I want Jungle Oats.
22.4.12
14.4.12
The Adventures of Us Five (and Lily) featuring Eliot and Asher.
There are tiny holes burnt into the plastic that makes up the bottom of the tent. If anyone asked, they would have no idea where they came from. No one could even sleep in the tent, there was just stuff everywhere. They sat in the tent for a while, watching each other in the dark.
They played Superstar. They walked in formation with the Brits. They watched them fall over with laughter and helped them up almost falling themselves. She wore too many pairs of pants. They spoke about life and were shushed from the inside of tents by strangers. They figured out why we speak the way we do, and tested out our their theories on passers by. They watched the stars fade into the darkness as they tried to find the constelations, but ended up making up their own. They lost eachother and found eachother ten times over. They leaned against eachother for what seemed like ages, back to back, equal. There were words that seemed more important than they were. She told stories while he listened, only half paying attention to the things she was sayng. They were overly descriptive and he quickly decided that they were made up fantasies of a lost girl who likes to cause trouble. He ran his fingers over hers and through her hair. He rested them gently on her face as her breathing became deeper, steady. Her eyes fluttered closed for the last time and she was over come with slumber. They fell asleep on the hemp mat, a clump of mismatched sleeping bags.
***
It started on the hill on the other side of the tent city. His fingers gently caressed the strings of his guitar in the early dusk. They sat huddled in a blancket and watched the sunset and the sky settle into a deep dark blue. They told jokes and stories, clutching our sides in agony from laughing too hard. His husky voice eminated from his chest louder; softer. No holding back. They sat in the tent, hunched over. Too close. You could see the small holes from the night before if they caught the light from the torch at just the right angle.
They didn't want to miss the concert this time so together they hurried to the Main Stage area and chose the best seats in the house. They tried to get people to pass around an empty Coke can.
"Pass it On"
The older poeple weren't having any silly antics tonight. The five of them giggled at the confused strangers. Three renditions of slow claps later, and the lights finally went down for the show to start. A beautiful women dressed in a flowing white gown took the stage, castenettes clicking between her fingers. You could barely hear them over the music. The flower in her hair shook slightly with each step. Five other women dressed in white skirts took the stage. They jingles and moved their bodies, mesmorising the audience. They moved like contortionists, but danced and swirled like smoke in the lights. Aplause, and it was over.
Two of them, a girl and a boy didn't stand up right away. They sat, back to back, and waited for people to start dancing, watching their bodies sway to the music. A man started chanting at them to get up and within a second everyone had joined in. he two qickly rose, giggling uncontrolably and joined the writhing crowd, moving and swaying to the beats. Loud. She left.
She found the rest of them playing soccer on The Grass. He met up with us later and we went in search of a good tree to climb, but failed miserably and ended up sitting on the grass beneth it. He thought it weird that she hugged and comforted the tree, but didn't say it out loud. A kind soul. She was woken up with a start to the sounds of someone asking obtrusive questions.
"It's in the fridge!" She told them, and went back to sleep.
Music and singing filled the cool air in the early hours of the morning and she leant on her elbows watching the group of people hug eachother good morning and disperse to finaly get some sleep. She soon followed their example and settled back down onto the cool grass, breathing in the smell of stale sweat and deodorant mixed with an unfamiliar scent and the smell of dew on the grass. She rolled over and watched the branches swaying in the breeze for what seeed like an eternity, until her eyes closed again.
***
The red and blue lights from her Glow Poi lit the earth around them and there was a whisper from somewhere. Looking up they could see the culprits in the tree. They both climbed up and found a comfortable plae to watch the soundcheck for that nights performance. They joked and laughed excitedly at stories about Asher and made plans for the night, none of wich we actually went through with. Rebekkah anoyed them all by dropping leaves in their hair. It was impossible to get out because of all the other dirt and greese. They looked like monkeys scratching their heads.
Scary Men told them to get down and they went in search of a better tree to climb.
Finding one, they climbed up and called to people on the ground, each person looking around confused and dazed as to where the noise came from.
She played harmonica and he beatboxed to a rhythm that was questionable. Gal almost fell out of the tree from sleep deprivation and Rebekkah went off with her new BFF to do something that would probably have gotten them into trouble.
She sat on the mattress and he sat directly opposite him. They moved their hands in unison as the dull thump from the trance music made the floor come alive. People stopped to watch, to ponder, to look upon the intensity of two people making eye contact.
"Do you ever stop? Turn off I mean..." She asked. An inquisitive look on her face.
He thought for a moment.
"Yes. Well, No."
He was second guessing himself again and she could see the thought process in his eyes.
It had become something she was used to seeing, but that always stood out from all the other expresions. In that moment she vowed to herself that she would find out how. she wanted to see the person who wasn't always thinking of something to say. They spoke excitedly for a few more hours, but the time was ticking away and she would soon have to leave. He leaned in closer and closer. A kiss. Two people, better off as friends but unable to keep that distance. There is something betweent them, but they cannot see what.
Uncontrollable laughter eminating from them, a wonderful aurah that had been created through thought and emotion. There were things that still needed to be heard, but didn't need to be said just then.
She left, a smile still on her face as she fell asleep that night on the way home, only imagining what he could be doing. She missed him. She missed them. She missed the desert and wished she could be back. There was a twinge in her stomach and a small seed of anger but that all subsided as she remembered they would be back soon.
Free WiFi in the Ashram Desert
As I watch the dirty water run down the drain in the shower I cant help but think that that was one of life's great memories that would never be fully explained through words or pictures. The luke warm waterburns my face as the droplets fall. I think I'm sunburnt. In fact I know I am. The discoloured pigmentation of my skin is just another reminder. My feet are cracked and broken, possible stained forever with the remaints of rocky terrain and scratches from the beauty that is the Ashram Dessert.
We left on a good note, but as I lay on my bed now I want nothing more than to beback in the dessert with my friends and not here in the chaotic whirlwind of people through the enclosed structure we call home. I want nothing more than to be singing songs about nothing on the patchy grass. I want nothing more than the smell of dirt and sweat that has built up over a weeks worth of not showering. I want nothing more than to have woken up under the trees with hundreds of sleeping boddies around me.
There is a slight twinge in my heart when I realise that is no longer an option.
Tuesday 10 April 2012
Day One:
I woke with a start, after only four hours of sleep from the eventfull night of Hippie Pants and Gangstah Hats that kept Rebekkah and myself up till the early hours of the morning. It was cold and my hair was wet. Groggily I forced myself out of bed, a thrill building up inside me. I pulled on my hippie pants from the night before and grabbed a jersey just incase. We had a 6 hour bus ride, including a change over, ahead of us. At first we thought we would be able to sleep on the bus, not realising we had to watch to get off at the right stop, Rebekkah kept herself awake by telling me stories about her life and braiding my hair. Needless to say that when I stepped off the bus in the middle of the desert, I looked like I belonged at a dessert hippie festival. I felt at home.
The gate to The Zorba the Buddah festival was an archway, the ribbons attached to it gently billowing in the wind . Just inside was a large area of grass. People were scattered everywhere, and there was a constant hum of chater, mixed with all different music. If you lay on the grass you could tune in and out of the different melodies.
In record timing we set up two tents. One overly large one that was a green and orange monstrosity. The other a generic silver and blue one. I felt like as soon as you walked inside you could time travel back to medieval times.
We spent the next five hour's waiting on the Brits to arrive, asleep on The White. I woke up to a group of people in a large circle singing along to a scruffy man and his old battered guitar.
I could feel the heat from my hand over my heart as the Zorba Tzevet told us to breath deeply. I felt my chest rising and falling with my own breathing. I felt the beat of the music through the ground and through my body as I sat with hundreds of other people all feeling the same thing. Standing up in smaller groups of strangers, we chose a leader who did movements and we all copied him. We shouted out noises and danced around in the circle. We went on a journey through movement and sounds. A cool trail across my forehead and over the bridge of my nose was soothing in the heat.
Up; down; left; right; a figure of eight; a wink and a smile. The sage smoke curling up into nothingness.
We ate lunch and had a brief inerlude with Naomis guitar on The Grass.
An old women in a red dress aproached us.
"Shalom. Mi medaberet Ivrit?" She asked us in a gentle voice.
Naomi responded by telling here that she spoke Hebrew, but all her friends were English. "Ani medaberet, kulam lo mebrabrim Ivrit. Englit."
She invited us to the opening ceremony of her Red Tent.
We gingerly walked over to the mysterious Red Tent. It was on the far side of The Grass. The whole tent was red. There were red lights hung over the circle or missmatched red cussions, women already sitting. Waitng. We sat down, and my eyes adjusted to the growing dim of the Dessert at night. There were red dresses and lingerie hung up on the white material walls of the tent. In the middle was a circle of stones, all different sizes and colours, and a large red candle. There was a small statuette of a woman that facinated me as m eyes travelled around the Red Tent.
The burning stick of sage that she used to welcome and bless us left a trail in its wake that swirled up to the night sky. It made me dizzy to watch but I couldn't look away from the grey swirls.
The length of red string that is now tied around my wrist, along with all my other braclettes is a constant reminder of my first ever Womens Circle. A wrap for ever generation of women in your family. A piece of history on my arm.
Ani Kathryn, Bat Yael, Bat Ima h'Adamah. (I'm Kathryn, Daughter of Jennifer, Daughter of Mother Earth)
Sitting in the circle listening to the kinds of inspireing women that these women had as their parents put me in a reflective mood on my relationship with my mother. Later talking to one of the other girls, she must have been about twenty, I expressed my love for my own mother and how she managed to raise two pretty decent kids on her own. We spoke about how we would feel being mothers and the hardships that they must encounter from their kids. I remembered that one time, just before I left, when I went for breakfast with my mom, and it suddenly hit me that I was leaving and finnished with school. She told me something that I will probably never forget and what was, probably, the reason I wanted to fix things. She said: "We've been fighting so much that I've missed years of your life" It scard me to hear that. I expressed something that she said she had only realised in her later years, wich was me realising that our parents are real people, with real personalities and that my Mom, in particular, is a strange; funny; free spirited lady who is a strong woman and that motivates us to be the greatest people we can be. She never stops believing in us and always encourages us to do better.
The most intraspective conversation.
Lights invaded my eyes even though they were closed. Music penetrated my sould as we jumped and swayed to the jazz trance at the main stage. You could hear the Aussies all chanting stupid things and mockingly Rebekkah and I chanted "USA! USA!" We vowed to avoid large groups of Australians from then on.
I wouldn't call what I did that night sleeping. The ground was covered in small rocks and the tent didn't exactly fit six people in it comfortably. It would be the last time I slept there.
Wednesday 11 April 2012
Day Two:
I awoke before anyone else in my tent. I changed into clean clothes and drank almost a litre of water to stop the highly possible chance of dehydration. I waited until everyone else was awake and brushed my teeth. Relief. I hate not brushing my teeth. After a breakfast of Matzah and Chocolate spread we checked the board for sessions to go to, deciding that a Journey through Gypsy Dance in the Movement Tent would be a great way to start the day.
The session was by far my favorite of all the ones I did.
We started off by stretching and feeling the earth. We eventually progressed into Gypsy Dancemoves and felt our way through it, with use of our bodies and our breathing. The Insructer was a beautiful Spanish women with big eyes. She looked a little like Elrita and I wanted to be her.
Peoples shoes lay discarded at the edge of the Main Stage while they danced and I took photographs. This would mark my first (and slightly dredded) conversation with Ari.
His voice was rough and husky while she played a beautiful melody. Her hair fire-y red and his a golden blonde. He spoke his words softly and she whislted along without hesitation. The words were made up on the spot. There has never been anything more genuine than the spark that egnited a whirlwind romance of three days between the two of them. His words penetrated everyones ears as his friends watched on, impressed, but not surprised. Barely looking up from their game of Gin, played with Elvis cards. She was fixated. Alive. A sparkle in her eye reminicent of something long forgotten or only dreamed about on cold lonely nights.
***
They kissed goodbye on the last night, with hopes to meet again soon.
Thursday 12 April 2012
Day Three:
Naomis Birthday:
Her friends spoilt her with gifts from home and a surprise dinner. Her little face was so happy and smiling. I could only wish for friends that care that much for me and would do such lovely things for a friend on theit birthday. A friend-y kind of love. It was beautiful.
Rebekkah and I had a crash course in Kung Foo an fell asleep during the Live Music Meditation.
We lay on a blanket on The Grass for ages just chatting to ALL the Australians and making friends.
Friday April 13 2012
Day Four:
We spent most of the day eating Garanim on The Grass and talking excitedly about things. The guitar passed from one person to the other and the world was filled with singing and melodies. Ari and I took a walk in the desert. There were conversations and towers built with rocks as we made lists of Pro's and Con's, deciding that being friends was beter for everyone. That it makes Lily and Gal happy should have been the only argument. we lay under the sky, tangled in a thorn bush for quite a while.
"What if the sky starts right where the ground stops, so we're all live in the sky anyway?"
We walked back in solomn silence, with only a few words puncturing the space between us at irregular intervals. I cried for a while in my tent. Not about the Brittish Drama, but because I felt as though I had made the wrong decision. I missed my mom, I missed my friends, I missed not being tired and I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, and to have someone hold me and keep me safe. I missed my feet not hurting and I wanted something warm to eat to make me feel okay again.
Dinner, and Chai Tea and Cake. Rebekkah and I could never have been happier. We ate our Malawach with smiles on our faces.
We packed up the tent. I spent a good two hours looking for my shoes, but Ari found them in the dessert somewhere.
We left on a good note, but as I lay on my bed now I want nothing more than to beback in the dessert with my friends and not here in the chaotic whirlwind of people through the enclosed structure we call home. I want nothing more than to be singing songs about nothing on the patchy grass. I want nothing more than the smell of dirt and sweat that has built up over a weeks worth of not showering. I want nothing more than to have woken up under the trees with hundreds of sleeping boddies around me.
There is a slight twinge in my heart when I realise that is no longer an option.
Zorba The Buddah Festival
Tuesday 10 April 2012
Day One:
I woke with a start, after only four hours of sleep from the eventfull night of Hippie Pants and Gangstah Hats that kept Rebekkah and myself up till the early hours of the morning. It was cold and my hair was wet. Groggily I forced myself out of bed, a thrill building up inside me. I pulled on my hippie pants from the night before and grabbed a jersey just incase. We had a 6 hour bus ride, including a change over, ahead of us. At first we thought we would be able to sleep on the bus, not realising we had to watch to get off at the right stop, Rebekkah kept herself awake by telling me stories about her life and braiding my hair. Needless to say that when I stepped off the bus in the middle of the desert, I looked like I belonged at a dessert hippie festival. I felt at home.
The gate to The Zorba the Buddah festival was an archway, the ribbons attached to it gently billowing in the wind . Just inside was a large area of grass. People were scattered everywhere, and there was a constant hum of chater, mixed with all different music. If you lay on the grass you could tune in and out of the different melodies.
We spent the next five hour's waiting on the Brits to arrive, asleep on The White. I woke up to a group of people in a large circle singing along to a scruffy man and his old battered guitar.
I could feel the heat from my hand over my heart as the Zorba Tzevet told us to breath deeply. I felt my chest rising and falling with my own breathing. I felt the beat of the music through the ground and through my body as I sat with hundreds of other people all feeling the same thing. Standing up in smaller groups of strangers, we chose a leader who did movements and we all copied him. We shouted out noises and danced around in the circle. We went on a journey through movement and sounds. A cool trail across my forehead and over the bridge of my nose was soothing in the heat.
Up; down; left; right; a figure of eight; a wink and a smile. The sage smoke curling up into nothingness.
An old women in a red dress aproached us.
"Shalom. Mi medaberet Ivrit?" She asked us in a gentle voice.
Naomi responded by telling here that she spoke Hebrew, but all her friends were English. "Ani medaberet, kulam lo mebrabrim Ivrit. Englit."
She invited us to the opening ceremony of her Red Tent.
We gingerly walked over to the mysterious Red Tent. It was on the far side of The Grass. The whole tent was red. There were red lights hung over the circle or missmatched red cussions, women already sitting. Waitng. We sat down, and my eyes adjusted to the growing dim of the Dessert at night. There were red dresses and lingerie hung up on the white material walls of the tent. In the middle was a circle of stones, all different sizes and colours, and a large red candle. There was a small statuette of a woman that facinated me as m eyes travelled around the Red Tent.
The burning stick of sage that she used to welcome and bless us left a trail in its wake that swirled up to the night sky. It made me dizzy to watch but I couldn't look away from the grey swirls.
The length of red string that is now tied around my wrist, along with all my other braclettes is a constant reminder of my first ever Womens Circle. A wrap for ever generation of women in your family. A piece of history on my arm.
Ani Kathryn, Bat Yael, Bat Ima h'Adamah. (I'm Kathryn, Daughter of Jennifer, Daughter of Mother Earth)
Sitting in the circle listening to the kinds of inspireing women that these women had as their parents put me in a reflective mood on my relationship with my mother. Later talking to one of the other girls, she must have been about twenty, I expressed my love for my own mother and how she managed to raise two pretty decent kids on her own. We spoke about how we would feel being mothers and the hardships that they must encounter from their kids. I remembered that one time, just before I left, when I went for breakfast with my mom, and it suddenly hit me that I was leaving and finnished with school. She told me something that I will probably never forget and what was, probably, the reason I wanted to fix things. She said: "We've been fighting so much that I've missed years of your life" It scard me to hear that. I expressed something that she said she had only realised in her later years, wich was me realising that our parents are real people, with real personalities and that my Mom, in particular, is a strange; funny; free spirited lady who is a strong woman and that motivates us to be the greatest people we can be. She never stops believing in us and always encourages us to do better.
The most intraspective conversation.
Lights invaded my eyes even though they were closed. Music penetrated my sould as we jumped and swayed to the jazz trance at the main stage. You could hear the Aussies all chanting stupid things and mockingly Rebekkah and I chanted "USA! USA!" We vowed to avoid large groups of Australians from then on.
I wouldn't call what I did that night sleeping. The ground was covered in small rocks and the tent didn't exactly fit six people in it comfortably. It would be the last time I slept there.
Wednesday 11 April 2012
Day Two:
I awoke before anyone else in my tent. I changed into clean clothes and drank almost a litre of water to stop the highly possible chance of dehydration. I waited until everyone else was awake and brushed my teeth. Relief. I hate not brushing my teeth. After a breakfast of Matzah and Chocolate spread we checked the board for sessions to go to, deciding that a Journey through Gypsy Dance in the Movement Tent would be a great way to start the day.
We had some time to chill before and we met up with Gal and Byron. We chatted about our plans for the day and decided to meet later. There was some hand shaking and introductions to Rabbi Reverend Yonnie Genende and we went our separate ways.
The session was by far my favorite of all the ones I did.
We started off by stretching and feeling the earth. We eventually progressed into Gypsy Dancemoves and felt our way through it, with use of our bodies and our breathing. The Insructer was a beautiful Spanish women with big eyes. She looked a little like Elrita and I wanted to be her.
Peoples shoes lay discarded at the edge of the Main Stage while they danced and I took photographs. This would mark my first (and slightly dredded) conversation with Ari.
His voice was rough and husky while she played a beautiful melody. Her hair fire-y red and his a golden blonde. He spoke his words softly and she whislted along without hesitation. The words were made up on the spot. There has never been anything more genuine than the spark that egnited a whirlwind romance of three days between the two of them. His words penetrated everyones ears as his friends watched on, impressed, but not surprised. Barely looking up from their game of Gin, played with Elvis cards. She was fixated. Alive. A sparkle in her eye reminicent of something long forgotten or only dreamed about on cold lonely nights.
***
They kissed goodbye on the last night, with hopes to meet again soon.
Thursday 12 April 2012
Day Three:
Naomis Birthday:
Rebekkah and I had a crash course in Kung Foo an fell asleep during the Live Music Meditation.
We lay on a blanket on The Grass for ages just chatting to ALL the Australians and making friends.
Friday April 13 2012
Day Four:
We spent most of the day eating Garanim on The Grass and talking excitedly about things. The guitar passed from one person to the other and the world was filled with singing and melodies. Ari and I took a walk in the desert. There were conversations and towers built with rocks as we made lists of Pro's and Con's, deciding that being friends was beter for everyone. That it makes Lily and Gal happy should have been the only argument. we lay under the sky, tangled in a thorn bush for quite a while.
"What if the sky starts right where the ground stops, so we're all live in the sky anyway?"
We walked back in solomn silence, with only a few words puncturing the space between us at irregular intervals. I cried for a while in my tent. Not about the Brittish Drama, but because I felt as though I had made the wrong decision. I missed my mom, I missed my friends, I missed not being tired and I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, and to have someone hold me and keep me safe. I missed my feet not hurting and I wanted something warm to eat to make me feel okay again.
Dinner, and Chai Tea and Cake. Rebekkah and I could never have been happier. We ate our Malawach with smiles on our faces.
We packed up the tent. I spent a good two hours looking for my shoes, but Ari found them in the dessert somewhere.
Just an Ice-Cream (Up) Date
Wednesday 4 April 2012
(The Day Before ALL the Bad Things Happened)
I picked Rosa up from outside a fancy hotel for a little bit of trendy-lesbian time.
We walked through the streets of Jerusalem chatting about things that happened to us recently. She told me stories of her family and I went over the same exhausted topics of boys and drama in the Etgar flat. Nothing terribly exciting was happening at all. Nothing what so ever. An odd occasion, we didn't quite know what to do with ourselves. A day without drama or tension and confusion? No weird feelings? What nonsense was this?
We ate 10 sheckle ice cream from "Internet" and met up with Lily just down the street.
The three of us sat on Tzion Street listening to the musicians and argued about the Army and Indoctrination and making Aliyah for a while. We made bracelets in the middle of the street an I said goodbye to them in the middle of a busy intersection and tucked myself into bed.
***
Friday 6 April 2012
The Pass Over Seder.
Alyson, Liz and I got lost on our way to our host family for Seder. It was awkward for a while, then it got interesting as we discussed topics in the world and ate a lovely dinner in this nice strangers home with all his family and long lost relatives. I missed the Manoims and Sivan and Thando and being in a nice space and staying up really late talking to my friends until my Mom had to drag me away with promises to see each other the next morning at Shule.
***
Saturday 7 April 2012
Etgar ALL nighters
Tara, Jess, Rosa, Lily and Myself headed to the Kortel at 2am for a litle Easter celebration. We ended up singing and peeing in the bushes with short extracts from 'This Week in Palestie' and uncontrollable giggling and blasphemy.
I stayed up ALL night posting the posts before this one.
Sunday 8 April 2012
We became wizards. There was a Tree Apocalypse. I'm pretty sure Jeffrey thinks I'm mad.
Sprite Day 9 April 2012
I took myself for a walk through the City. I stumbled upon a crafters market and had a moment of reminiceing with myself about all the time I used to spend in crafters markets when I was small. I had alost all but forgotten about it, until then. I basically grew up in them.
I hung out with Mor for the majority of the day. We went shopping in the shuk for a bucket and some veggies for dinner. We stopped for ice cream and I fell asleep on her couch for a while. A call from Emily woke me up and I said goodbye to Mor and headed home. Rebekkah arrived shortly afterwards and we wanted dinner, but instead we ended up adventuring through the streets of J-ruz in Hippie Pants and Gangstah Hats in search of Crepes. This story will probably be the greatest Shnat Confession Ever.
<3
(The Day Before ALL the Bad Things Happened)
I picked Rosa up from outside a fancy hotel for a little bit of trendy-lesbian time.
We walked through the streets of Jerusalem chatting about things that happened to us recently. She told me stories of her family and I went over the same exhausted topics of boys and drama in the Etgar flat. Nothing terribly exciting was happening at all. Nothing what so ever. An odd occasion, we didn't quite know what to do with ourselves. A day without drama or tension and confusion? No weird feelings? What nonsense was this?
We ate 10 sheckle ice cream from "Internet" and met up with Lily just down the street.
The three of us sat on Tzion Street listening to the musicians and argued about the Army and Indoctrination and making Aliyah for a while. We made bracelets in the middle of the street an I said goodbye to them in the middle of a busy intersection and tucked myself into bed.
***
Friday 6 April 2012
The Pass Over Seder.
Alyson, Liz and I got lost on our way to our host family for Seder. It was awkward for a while, then it got interesting as we discussed topics in the world and ate a lovely dinner in this nice strangers home with all his family and long lost relatives. I missed the Manoims and Sivan and Thando and being in a nice space and staying up really late talking to my friends until my Mom had to drag me away with promises to see each other the next morning at Shule.
***
Saturday 7 April 2012
Etgar ALL nighters
Tara, Jess, Rosa, Lily and Myself headed to the Kortel at 2am for a litle Easter celebration. We ended up singing and peeing in the bushes with short extracts from 'This Week in Palestie' and uncontrollable giggling and blasphemy.
I stayed up ALL night posting the posts before this one.
Sunday 8 April 2012
We became wizards. There was a Tree Apocalypse. I'm pretty sure Jeffrey thinks I'm mad.
Sprite Day 9 April 2012
I took myself for a walk through the City. I stumbled upon a crafters market and had a moment of reminiceing with myself about all the time I used to spend in crafters markets when I was small. I had alost all but forgotten about it, until then. I basically grew up in them.
I hung out with Mor for the majority of the day. We went shopping in the shuk for a bucket and some veggies for dinner. We stopped for ice cream and I fell asleep on her couch for a while. A call from Emily woke me up and I said goodbye to Mor and headed home. Rebekkah arrived shortly afterwards and we wanted dinner, but instead we ended up adventuring through the streets of J-ruz in Hippie Pants and Gangstah Hats in search of Crepes. This story will probably be the greatest Shnat Confession Ever.
<3
7.4.12
To Jake, From Shnat.
Jake, remember that one time when you became a Bar Mitzvah? This is one of those times you, me, all the Shnatties, your family, your friends, and everyone else here will remember for a long time. Kind of like that time you ended up at Kikar HaEvan. Or the time you fell in the water after the tunnels.
As someone who has lived with you for quite a while now, I feel qualified to comment on your life. And after months of seeing you lose your keys and sing Cage the Elephant, I know you’re someone I’m going to drive down to LA to watch Saw and have In’n’out dates with. Every single one of us has seen you change from that guy who fell asleep at every single class during Orientation Week, the guy who ruined his sweater on kibbutz, the guy who thought the kibbutz was vegetarian, the guy who lost his keys in Karmiel, who got lost coming back from the store in Karmiel, who got lost in Kikar HaEvan, the guy who played that same song every time you sat down at a piano, who thought it was Beit Shumel, who lost his glasses, who lost his phone, who fell in the water. The Jake who didn’t know the Aleph Bet when we first started Ulpan is not the Jake up here becoming a Bar Mitzvah. This Jake is smart, prepared, responsible, funny, and independent. The line, “will you do everything in life for me?” is no longer a legitimate request, it’s just a joke. You have truly become a man on Shnat, and we are all lucky to have witnessed it.
I couldn’t imagine my Shnat without you, and I know everyone else feels the same. We can’t think about you without smiling or laughing. You’re that guy that manages to brighten everyone’s day without even trying. You have no idea how much we all appreciate that.
To show you just how much we love you, the Shnatties have compiled some words of wisdom, advice, humor, and memory for you.
We are all so proud of you. Congratulations, bro.
By: Rebekkah Karp
Jake, remember that one time when you became a Bar Mitzvah? This is one of those times you, me, all the Shnatties, your family, your friends, and everyone else here will remember for a long time. Kind of like that time you ended up at Kikar HaEvan. Or the time you fell in the water after the tunnels.
As someone who has lived with you for quite a while now, I feel qualified to comment on your life. And after months of seeing you lose your keys and sing Cage the Elephant, I know you’re someone I’m going to drive down to LA to watch Saw and have In’n’out dates with. Every single one of us has seen you change from that guy who fell asleep at every single class during Orientation Week, the guy who ruined his sweater on kibbutz, the guy who thought the kibbutz was vegetarian, the guy who lost his keys in Karmiel, who got lost coming back from the store in Karmiel, who got lost in Kikar HaEvan, the guy who played that same song every time you sat down at a piano, who thought it was Beit Shumel, who lost his glasses, who lost his phone, who fell in the water. The Jake who didn’t know the Aleph Bet when we first started Ulpan is not the Jake up here becoming a Bar Mitzvah. This Jake is smart, prepared, responsible, funny, and independent. The line, “will you do everything in life for me?” is no longer a legitimate request, it’s just a joke. You have truly become a man on Shnat, and we are all lucky to have witnessed it.
I couldn’t imagine my Shnat without you, and I know everyone else feels the same. We can’t think about you without smiling or laughing. You’re that guy that manages to brighten everyone’s day without even trying. You have no idea how much we all appreciate that.
To show you just how much we love you, the Shnatties have compiled some words of wisdom, advice, humor, and memory for you.
We are all so proud of you. Congratulations, bro.
By: Rebekkah Karp
Jakes Bar Mitzvah
We spent majority of the week trying to get Jake out of the house so we could work on something great for his Bar Mitzvah on Thursday. It was quite easy when he wasn't around, 'cause he was with family, but eventually we had to just make him sit outside for a while.
Everyone is getting dressed up for the first ever Shant Bar Mitzvah. There is an air of rising excitement on the flat, but if you look closely you can see Jakes hands shaking a little more than usual and his normally chilled air of calm is slightly warped. He cant decide which pocket to put his speech in and has only just found his shirt. The girls are all doing their make-up while the boys are finding yamalkahs and complaining about the girls taking so long to get ready. Naomi is making everyone lunch, and I cant sit still. I'm excited for Jake. Bursting with pride that one of my best friends is doing something so amazing and that he wanted all of us to be a part of it too.
The ceremony takes place under a shady bit of Rock. Jemma, Josh and Jeff lead a service they put together especially for Jake, and the congregation all join in clapping and singing.
We had dinner at a fancy restaurant and I got to bond with Jakes Mom over dessert. We talked about how she felt that Jake was having his Barmie and that she has always known that he is one of the most amazing people in the whole world. We spoke about how we forget that our parents are real people sometimes and that it took her a really long time to realise that about hers. We spoke about Jake when he was little and she shared all her hopes and dreams with me. She told me about how she wanted to be a photographer and travel the world, and she asked me to email her all the pictures from the day.
I think she is the luckiest women on earth to have two beautiful children and that I finally understand why Jake is who he is. His parents are amazing and they love him so much.
Theme Night 4 April 2012
We got the whole flat together throughout the day, so stealthily, without Jake suspecting anything and recorded him a song that Emily, Rebekkah and I had stayed up really late the night before to write. Everyone had a few lines to sing, and we put it as the back track of a slideshow presentation that we showed at his Bar Mitzvah. We also wrote and performed a short play about Jakes Shnat life with the help of his little brother, Milo.
ALL the Borsuks!
Milo made us delicious dinner and we all dressed up like him. We're all under the Milo Cuteness Spell, but we still wouldn't trade anything in the whole world for the real Jake.
Yom Gadol 5 April 2012
BIG DAY!
We all joke and reminisce about the last time we all went to Bar or Bat Mitvahs. Those times when we all stood around awkwardly because we were still in our awkward puberty stage and didn't wanna dance at all, let alone with the boys.
It is a beautiful day. Warm for the first time in Jerusalem. People are wearing dresses and smiling in the sunlight. soaking up the much needed Vitamin D.
We walk as a group to the southern wall. Everyone is laughing and congratulating Jake. Everyone is happy.
Siman Tov!
Mazel Tov!
He reads his Torah Portion like a true man, and His fathers speech brings me to tears as he says the words that could only have come from the deepest, most proud parts of a fathers heart.
Rebekkahs speech makes us all laugh and "Aww" at the fond memories we have of our Jake.
We had dinner at a fancy restaurant and I got to bond with Jakes Mom over dessert. We talked about how she felt that Jake was having his Barmie and that she has always known that he is one of the most amazing people in the whole world. We spoke about how we forget that our parents are real people sometimes and that it took her a really long time to realise that about hers. We spoke about Jake when he was little and she shared all her hopes and dreams with me. She told me about how she wanted to be a photographer and travel the world, and she asked me to email her all the pictures from the day. 
Mazel Tov Jake!
ALL the Rattans!
Tuna Tuesday 3 April 2012
Dangermans brother came to visit and we spent the better part of the early hours of the morning singing the Netzer song in ALL the languages we could. I even taught them Afrikaans.
One thing I've noticed about the Rattans is that they like to tell stories, and I even had the pleasure to find out why. Their Grand Father used to tell them stories and for the few months that Gil lived in Israel last year, he spent as much time as he could listening to all the stories he could. Gil captivated his audience with tales of his time in Germany and in his drunken slurring state his ideas about the world and the importance of the diaspora for Jews. He told me all about his family history and how his parents met and how he learnt all the languages he knows today.
This was all with brief interludes, in the beginning, from his brother trying to get him to come party with them. He didn't go in the end. He said its because he prefers to chill.
When Dangerman gets drunk he starts speaking in German.
- We had a mini discussion about: IRAC. I took a tactical pee break...
- The southerners had a meeting with Hannah from Kibbutz Lotan. She seems really nice. I'm so excited for it!
- We had a bake off in the kitchen. Did you know that Dan makes banana pancakes? Our cookies (Dans, Mine, Liz's and Becca's) were the best by far.
- We had a mini party in the Mitbach and Jeff was trying to be 'Lil Sweezy... Whoever that is...
- I played the best game of Bananagrams ever. ALL the dirt words and "Dragons".
- We had a chill sesh in the Dojo and ate all the cookie dough in the world.
- Jeff and I made a Draw my Thing account together. Then we ate pizza and decided not to hold grudges against eachother anymore. Lol. Classic Libra (Vintage Libra...)
Dangermans brother came to visit and we spent the better part of the early hours of the morning singing the Netzer song in ALL the languages we could. I even taught them Afrikaans.
One thing I've noticed about the Rattans is that they like to tell stories, and I even had the pleasure to find out why. Their Grand Father used to tell them stories and for the few months that Gil lived in Israel last year, he spent as much time as he could listening to all the stories he could. Gil captivated his audience with tales of his time in Germany and in his drunken slurring state his ideas about the world and the importance of the diaspora for Jews. He told me all about his family history and how his parents met and how he learnt all the languages he knows today.
This was all with brief interludes, in the beginning, from his brother trying to get him to come party with them. He didn't go in the end. He said its because he prefers to chill.
When Dangerman gets drunk he starts speaking in German.
I don't like Cemeteries.
Sprite Day 2 April 2012
A field trip for us!
We woke up tired and groggy from the weekend we still hadn't recovered from. We had a solemn day ahead of us waht with our trip to Har Hertzl, the Cemetary for Fallen Soldiers.
I've been there before and in all honesty, I didn't think it would hit as hard as it did.
We started the day off reading a play that our Lecturer Mark had written. It was quite witty and another hadrach technique we could take back to our sniffim and hopefully utilize to get complicated or boring information across to our Channichim.
We walked to one of the graves of the Habbonim Dror founders and had our first peulah of the day. Mark gave us each a stack of information and told us to present it in a way that was creative and inspireing. Not an easy feat when you're exhausted. Daron and I attempted a pantomime interpretive dance to the information but it wasn't good at all.
It was time for lunch and we all livened up a bit after that.
The rest of the tour consisted of a stop at Theodor Hertzls grave and a quick history lesson.
Theodore's grave is my favourite in the whole cemetery. Its the design and meaning behind it that I find truly remarkable and wonderful. The fact that his grave is so symbolic to a lot of people is awe inspiring. What he did for the people of Israel, the inspiration he provided for them is one that kinda makes my brain explode every so often. Other times I just think that people put too much faith in some people.
His grave is in a semi circular formation, half white for his wife, and half black for himself. There is a candle placed in the middle that is sometimes lit. I guess it would symbolise the light that he provided for the people, or the fact that he still gives hope and that we should remember him.
We saw Golda Maeir's tomb stone and open spaces next to other tomb stones where loved ones are reserving their space in the ground.
That freaks me out the most. I hate the idea of death, especially what awaits us on the other side, and the fact that we know it could all end at any moment and this is how we prepare for it.
We walked around the memorial for the civilians who had died in terrorist attack or during wars. There too was space left for the future. The anticipation for more death due to war and violence prevalent in the open spaces on the wall.
Liz ran a peulah on Zionism.
The Fallen Soldiers:
The decorated graves of brave young men and women from Israel and other countries made my heart sink. I walked around the graves for a while fighting back tears, looking at the different pictures of the smiling faces that grieving parents had placed on their child's grave.
I like people. I want to know their stories, their reason for existing.
Seeing these people represented in such a way, where you could tell what kind of person they were in their lives, even after they were gone, I just couldn't handle it.
Lily told me that it was just glorifying the army and that I just didn't realise it, but I don't think it is.
There's this one grave, this young man, who made Aliyah to Israel and decided to join the army. He fought for what he believed in and died for a country that he believed in so much. Not the place he was born, and not the place where his parents live, but a place that he had decided meant so much to him, he would do anything for, even give his own life for it. I didn't stand at his grave and cry because he died in battle. I didn't stand there and think to myself: "Wow. I want to join the army. I want to fight 'Enemies'". I stood by the grave of a person who, in his own way inspired so many people through his actions. In that moment I was proud to be a part of the human race where, in some way, a young man brought people from all over the world together to support a family who had just lost their son. No matter how it happened, it is the hardest thing to watch a family be broken.
I added a bracelet to the growing tokens of appreciation. Not because I support the army, but because we're a world wide community and we should stand together against any kind of injustice to the Human Race.
I don't like cemeteries.
A field trip for us!
We woke up tired and groggy from the weekend we still hadn't recovered from. We had a solemn day ahead of us waht with our trip to Har Hertzl, the Cemetary for Fallen Soldiers.
I've been there before and in all honesty, I didn't think it would hit as hard as it did.
We walked to one of the graves of the Habbonim Dror founders and had our first peulah of the day. Mark gave us each a stack of information and told us to present it in a way that was creative and inspireing. Not an easy feat when you're exhausted. Daron and I attempted a pantomime interpretive dance to the information but it wasn't good at all.
It was time for lunch and we all livened up a bit after that.
The rest of the tour consisted of a stop at Theodor Hertzls grave and a quick history lesson.
Theodore's grave is my favourite in the whole cemetery. Its the design and meaning behind it that I find truly remarkable and wonderful. The fact that his grave is so symbolic to a lot of people is awe inspiring. What he did for the people of Israel, the inspiration he provided for them is one that kinda makes my brain explode every so often. Other times I just think that people put too much faith in some people.
His grave is in a semi circular formation, half white for his wife, and half black for himself. There is a candle placed in the middle that is sometimes lit. I guess it would symbolise the light that he provided for the people, or the fact that he still gives hope and that we should remember him.
That freaks me out the most. I hate the idea of death, especially what awaits us on the other side, and the fact that we know it could all end at any moment and this is how we prepare for it.
We walked around the memorial for the civilians who had died in terrorist attack or during wars. There too was space left for the future. The anticipation for more death due to war and violence prevalent in the open spaces on the wall.
Liz ran a peulah on Zionism.
The Fallen Soldiers:
The decorated graves of brave young men and women from Israel and other countries made my heart sink. I walked around the graves for a while fighting back tears, looking at the different pictures of the smiling faces that grieving parents had placed on their child's grave.
I like people. I want to know their stories, their reason for existing.
Seeing these people represented in such a way, where you could tell what kind of person they were in their lives, even after they were gone, I just couldn't handle it.
Lily told me that it was just glorifying the army and that I just didn't realise it, but I don't think it is.
There's this one grave, this young man, who made Aliyah to Israel and decided to join the army. He fought for what he believed in and died for a country that he believed in so much. Not the place he was born, and not the place where his parents live, but a place that he had decided meant so much to him, he would do anything for, even give his own life for it. I didn't stand at his grave and cry because he died in battle. I didn't stand there and think to myself: "Wow. I want to join the army. I want to fight 'Enemies'". I stood by the grave of a person who, in his own way inspired so many people through his actions. In that moment I was proud to be a part of the human race where, in some way, a young man brought people from all over the world together to support a family who had just lost their son. No matter how it happened, it is the hardest thing to watch a family be broken.
 |
| Thats my bracelet. The Pink One. |
I don't like cemeteries.
I'm glad I have friends that do silly things with me.
Sunday 1 April 2012
APRIL FOOLS! :D
Rebekkah and I pulled the best prank! Lol. Everyone hated it, and I spilled all the syrup on the floor. We now have to use plates for french toast.
We did a whole bunch of other stuff too.
We cleaned the fridges, that hadn't been clean for DAYS. We turned all the chairs and couches to face the wall. We hung tampont on the door handles. We moved all the signs and opened all the drawers. All at 4 am I might add. We made so much noise, and no one heard us...
etc etc
APRIL FOOLS! :D
Rebekkah and I pulled the best prank! Lol. Everyone hated it, and I spilled all the syrup on the floor. We now have to use plates for french toast.
 |
| Toilet Rolls on the Ceiling. Check. |
 |
| ALL the shoes in the kitchen. Check. |
 |
| All the cupboard doors open. Check. |
 |
| All the chairs in the Bathroom. Check. |
 |
| The dining room in the hall way. Check. |
 |
| The chairs from the balcony in the showers. Check. |
 |
| Writing Happy April Folls on all the mirrors. Check. |
 |
| Turning all the signs upside down. Check. |
We cleaned the fridges, that hadn't been clean for DAYS. We turned all the chairs and couches to face the wall. We hung tampont on the door handles. We moved all the signs and opened all the drawers. All at 4 am I might add. We made so much noise, and no one heard us...
etc etc
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