First 72 hours

Well, I'm in the Holy Land! Since it's been a couple of days, let me spend some time reviewing...

16 hour flight=!!!!!! Especially if you have gas and don't wish for people to run to the exits on the airplane. Well maybe a few I wouldn't have minded. Seriously, no reason to be blowing a shofar 30,000 feet up in the air. Vicky Christina Barcelona was the best movie I watched out of the three and I have seen better Woody Allen movies. Sorry for the negativity, I didn't sleep well on the flight because I kept laughing at the fact that if the plane crashed in the ocean, I'd probably die from gas poisoning if I had to use my cushion as a personal flotation device.

When I first landed, I was impressed with the view of Tel Aviv, but didn't stick around as I didn't know exactly where I was going and wanted to have plenty of time in case I got lost. It was during my time in the van ride out of hell (Jews do have a Hell apparently, but it's more like purgatory, meaning for only a short time--not an eternity) that I realized (a) how beautiful several thousand year old ruins look, and (b) more people die from Israeli drivers than from military actions.

So as expected, I get lost toting heavy luggage around cobble stone streets, not really appreciating the sites as much as I do now, but as they say, getting lost begets city intimacy.

My housemates aren't too shabby and for the most part are welcoming. Of course there are 13 of us living in a 1.5 bath with 3 rooms upstairs and 1 room and 4 in sleeping quarters created out of the downstairs living room. So yea, living situation kind of tight but we do our best and everyone has a contagious case of optimism about it. Apparently this is better than before. HA! Joking aside, everyone is pretty cool (but there's the occasional jew with a stick up his ass, but that's anywhere).

Here's where the crazyiness begins. So I arrived Wednesday and my first day of class is Thursday. I get up early for morning services and at the following breakfast we received horrible news that the head rabbi, the one who started this school, everything related to it, responsible for the jewish education of thousands of people, had passed away after a year of battling lung cancer. He was 79 when he died and started the school in 1978. Well slap my silly and call me Jenny!

For those of you who don't quite recognize the magnitude of the situation, there were over 2,000 people at his wake and around 5,000 at his funeral. If they had waited one day, that number would've tripled (since Jews like to bury the deceased ASAP). I didn't get to see the funeral because as a Cohanim, I can't go into cemeteries, be 10 feet or closer to a body, go under a tree that also branches or is planted in a cemetery. Feel free to Wikipedia Cohen to understand more as it's all pretty amazing stuff. Back to the story, classes were cancelled that day out of respect. The amazing this is, people are not sad. You're not supposed to be sad during the sabbath (Friday to Saturday night). He was such a respected man of wisdom and touched a countless number of people I'm only sorry I couldn't see him myself.

The following night it hits me where I am. When I first got here, I only felt like I was looking at pictures out of a travel catalog. Well maybe the pictures were prettier (cough *photoshop* cough). But Thursday night I realized where I was and become overpowered by emotion and wept. I'm not afraid to admit because I don't feel like a stranger here anymore. Sure I don't speak hebrew or know where to do my laundry, yet I feel strangely comfortable. Kind of like when you're with someone and you can both be quiet without if feeling awkward (thanks Pulp Fiction for putting it perfectly).

As far as the weekend goes, I can summarize it with lots of food and dancing and prayer. But tomorrow (Sunday) I begin classes and my education. I can't wait and people around me are quite excited for me.

That's all I feel like typing now but I plan to do what I can with no cell phone and having to find a wireless spot in the old city. If you want to know where I am, my school looks upon the Western/Wailing Wall which is less than a quarter of a mile from one side of the school. You stay classy USA.