alhamdulilah -- baruch hashem

After two weeks of living in Beit Shmuel in Jerusalem, I finally feel settled, that living here is longterm. The last couple days of orientation proved both interesting and exhausting. Touring with Professsor Clinton Bailey (on the far right, right), an expert on Bedouin culture, we visited a Bedouin school in addition to sleeping at an unrecognized Bedouin tent. Professor Bailey is unique in that he closely observed Bedouin culture for 44 years. In our lecture, he emphasized to us that part of his motivation and interest stemmed from what traditional Bedouin culture and history could teach us about our own biblical heritage. Professor Bailey also accompanied us to Ben Gurion's house in Sde Boker, where he shared stories of when he knew Ben Gurion and his wife Paula, and her excellent pancakes.

Following sleeping in the Bedouin tent, we hiked Masada's Snake Path at the heat of the day, and, according to our assignment, ethnographically explored Masada in the spirit of John Stilgoe. Sweaty and irritable, we finally began our ride to Jerusalem. Once unpacked in our rooms, we began to acclimate to Beit Shmuel over the next few days. We are fortunate in amenities and location: we have a communal fridge, balconies facing the Old City, and are a five-minute walk from Mamila and the YMCA. The irony of the transfer from the JCC to the YMCA upon moving to Israel has not been lost on me; yet the zumba and pilates classes have proven better here anyway, so no complaints. Last Friday marked my first pilates class taught in a combination of Hebrew, English, and French. Beth Tfiloh has well prepared me for such situations.

Our weekly schedule is basically as follows: Monday through Thursday we have classes. In the morning, we have Hebrew and Arabic. Arabic has proved much more complex than I anticipated, between the short vowels and long vowels and vowels that act as letters and letters that act as vowels and letters that all sound the same. For instance, sabah alkhair does not mean good morning; rather, it's sabaHHH alkhair. Miss the all important "HHahh" sound and Johnny at the YMCA will fail to understand your bid good morning; I have learned my lesson. At the same time, Arabic is such an interesting language and does share certain traits and functions with Hebrew. In the afternoon, we have Civilization & Society or Perspectives on the Middle East lectures. Civ consists basically of the history and culture of the countries we'll be visiting before our international trips (right now we're in the midst of ancient Greece). In PME, we start from modern Jewish history and Jewish nationalism to contemporary Middle Eastern affairs. A word about our teachers - they're all extremely knowledgable and experienced in their respective fields (our PME teacher was a former vice president deputy advisor to Ariel Sharon).

Tuesday afternoons, we have social responsibility. I'm working with a second-hand clothing shop and section in the bazaar that supports a battered women's shelter. 

Between managing homework, starting social responsibility, taking Shabbos explorations, discovering multiethnic cuisine, and generally getting lost in Jerusalem, Kivunim has kept me busy. On Friday, we had an introductory lecture to Christianity, and, to follow, we will be attending mass at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre today (Sunday). More on discovering salvation tonight.

Side note - we leave for Greece and Bulgaria in exactly two weeks. Mishegas.

Rebecca Abbott

(Kivunim - www.kivunim.org)

(petra)fied of lice

Scarred since the tender age of eleven, I have sought to evade lice. The painful memories of louse-massacring chemicals and louse-smothering mayonaise and general hair yanking are motivation enough. Known for its lice infestation, Israel is not a place to play it safe in terms of hair hygiene. As Kivunim progresses, I am growing wary of these international hostels and hotels - you never know what could be hiding under your fourth pillow in the Amra Palace Hotel in Petra, Jordan.

Tonight we are back in Sde Boker. I can scarcely believe we took a simple two-day trip to Petra. About an hour and a half bus ride to the border crossing, we endured another hour and a half to walk across the border, passport control, and security. My first impression of Jordan consisted of a massive poster of  King Abdullah II's face, with a single line underneath: Welcome to the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. We boarded our Jordanian bus to meet our tour guide, Mohammed, who briefed us on Jordanian history and government.

Stopping a "rest stop and bazaar!," we discovered certain Jordanian etiquette: no, do not place used toilet paper in the toilet and flush it; rather, place it in the basket besides the toilet - from, the management.

We toured the Nabatean ruins for the remainder of the afternoon. Mohammed mentioned that the Jordanians had only excavated 8% of the total ruins; therefore, we only saw a small part of the huge city. Well-trained salesmen in the form of small children harassed us to buy jewelry and postcards, while men rode past in donkeys and horses to appeal to the tired-out Petra tourist. Assuring us that a horse ride back remained free with our tickets, Mohammed convinced us we only needed to tip $3. When Cami and I recruited one of the carriages to bring us back, the driver demanded his $20 as we galloped down between the stone walls. We quickly jumped off the carriage, throwing the guy two bucks, who hollered that if I threw in my hat it would be a fair deal. We immediately learned our lessons with tourist traps.

Upon arriving at the hotel, the Amra Palace, we sat down for the best dinner we've had thus far (this could or could not be attributed to the fact we've been eating hostel food in Sde Boker for a week). Though unkosher, the hotel arranged for the dinner to be vegetarian. Radish salads with olive oil and oranges, beet salads, cucumbers and peppers, dried apricots, fruit, and various other salads comprised the first buffet table. There was fish, salmon and a white fish, as well as stuffed crisps of vegetables and fish, and pasta. Dessert proved similarly grandeur with an assortment of jell-o and other unknown Middle Eastern sweets, including a rice pudding-like dish. I could continue about the breakfast: fruits and yogurt, dates and apricots, breads and fig-filled pastries - but this might start turning into a food blog.

We returned to Israel this morning to learn that security, unsurprisingly, proved much stricter traveling back to Israel. We also observed the pictures of Israeli-Jordanian relations and peace treaties among the walls of passport control, in comparison to the constant head of King Abdullah II plastered on the other side. Spending the next few hours at the beach in Eilat, we then toured the Arava Agricultural Developing Center. Tonight, we had a two-hour lecture with Dr. Clinton Bailey about Bedouin history and culture in anticipation of our time with the Bedouins tomorrow.


Rebecca

(Kivunim - www.kivunim.org)

shoutout to sam who laughed at mutton busting

Nearly a week since I left JFK to Ben Gurion, my concept of time has disintegrated. It feels like I've been here both a single month and a single day. The fact that we've been isolated to Sde Boker until this Shabbos with only cucumbers and various forms of burekas has not helped.

Sde Boker is exactly how I remember it. Dry air, dry sand, majestic views of the Negev, and Ben Gurion's tomb as the overwhelming monument of this small town. So far we have completed hikes and traveled places I've been to multiple times: Ein Avdat, Nahal Aqev. Yet the experiences have all proved so different, so significant just because I'm with a new, diverse group of people. I really like all of the Kivunim group and the differences of opinions and personalities.

Friday was our first full day of Kivunim. We hiked Ein Avdat, which is striking and picturesque (pictures to follow in further blog posts), and then toured the archeological Nabatean city of Avdat. Thereafter, we had the first of our many picnic lunches to come and, that night, we ate in the sukkah for the first time for Shabbos. Filled with breaks and discussion sessions about Zionism and Stilgoe's Outside Lies the Magic, Shabbos was a very relaxed day.

The Field School, where we we're staying, consists basically of a school and hostel within a small  town. There's a grocery store and a bar we've been visiting and little else, besides the abundance of overpopulated Israeli cats prowling about.

Similar to Friday, yesterday, we hiked for most of the day and arrived to the swimming hole at Nahal Aqev. After another discussion session on Diaspora Jewry, we prepared for Shemini Atzeret and went to the local Sephardi shul in Sde Boker. Tonight, we're preparing for first international trip tomorrow - Petra.

Side note: future posts will include more pictures and be less monotonous.

Until then,

Rebecca

(Kivunim - www.kivunim.org)

deli meat & the unknown

As 48 hours have ebbed away, my belongings have somehow managed to cram themselves into two suitcases. Vacuuming the excess air out of Space Bags, my mom, my sister, and I watched gleefully as my parka and Snuggie shrank to resemble a gargantuan package of deli meat.

At this point, I'm trying to accept that I am a compulsive over-packer and, also, that I won't be home until mid-December. The idea isn't new to me; I've watched my friends leave for college this past summer, one by one. From them, I've learned no matter how much you anxiety-pack, no matter how many Luna bars or bottles of Purell you buy, you can't mentally prepare for the experience. It's just too big, too overwhelming, and too full of the unknown.

The unknown is not always a good thing. In kindergarden, a classmate of mine stapled his finger "to see what it felt like." Needless to say, he didn't like the result. Yet he faced the decision with straightforwardness and anticipation. I can only hope I regard the upcoming nine months with the same mindset and return without punctured fingers.

(Tomorrow I actually leave for Israel, so thereafter this blog will no longer focus on The Big Lebowski and packaged deli meat).

Rebecca Abbott


(Kivunim - www.kivunim.org) - a gap year before Barnard