A slave to no-one

Being in Israel on Holocaust Remembrance Day (today), is a really layered experience. There are the obvious heavy moments, but not in the same ways I felt when I lived in the Diaspora.

When I lived in the States, it was an extremely heavy day for me. I think that's because I grew up in an area without many Jews, and to be honest, without ANY Jews who related to Judaism in a way that I did or a way that felt familiar to me. So I felt isolated as Jew all the time in my hometown. As I've written about many times before, the holocaust was a really huge part of my Jewish identity, maybe the primary part. I always had the cognizance that terrible things happened to Jews, but not a lot (read: any) of other Jewish experience to contrast with it. So on Holocaust Remembrance Day, I basically felt like I was carrying around this huge grief-anvil with no place to put it and no one else to share it with. No one even understood I was carrying anything at all, it was like they thought I was stooped over for no reason at all.

In Israel, of course, it's the opposite in every way. In the grief way, it's the opposite, because everybody shares it, in one way or another. Some Israelis are very personally connected to the holocaust, because they are survivors or children or grandchildren of survivors. Or nieces/nephews/neighbors/friends. Others are more distant but connected culturally, through education.

But nobody doesn't understand. There's a siren at 10 am (10 minutes from now, as I'm typing.) In fact, as I type, I'm sitting in the lobby of the college where I do some English tutoring on Mondays, and all of the students are filing out onto the lawn to go to a short memorial ceremony. They're dressed in black and white, the ones who are singing or participating in some way, and everybody's looking at me kind of oddly for sitting on my laptop, probably because they know I'm a new immigrant and suspect I have no idea what's going on, which was true until one of my students filled me in. I'll go outside for the siren shortly.

Anyway, when the siren sounds, everybody stops what they're doing and observes the silence, and the cars on the road stop and drivers get out, and it's the farthest thing from being one Jew in a New Hampshire high school where nobody even knows or cares but you. The farthest!

But things are also different in Israel because while I'm surrounded by people who understand the grief, I'm also in Israel, a country which was literally a daydream during the Holocaust. A country that was sung about, that we had once and lost, like Atlantis. It was a memory and a longing, and now I'm sitting in it. Can you imagine sitting in Atlantis? We drudged it up from the ocean and rebuilt it and I'm sitting in it, on my laptop. It was surreal coming into Jerusalem this morning for work. Jerusalem! For work! Like it's nothing, like it's a normal commute!

Siren time!

Anyway.

Last night, I went to an event where a survivor spoke, they have them all over the place here. Kurt, our survivor, was taken on the kindertransport from then Czechoslovakia to England when he was six. He described how, at the time, he thought it was an amazing adventure because he'd never been on a train, or out of the country, and how when he got to England he thought the tea was so bitter, and he added as much sugar as he could and it didn't get any sweeter. And he told us about the Methodists who took him in, and their farm and the farm animals.

He also read us the last letter his mother had written before she was transferred from Theresienstadt and... well, it's a bit of a mystery what exactly happened to her from there, but she did not survive the war. After the war, he had no remaining family in Europe, so he and his cousin who was with him on the farm came to Israel and joined the army and became Israeli and he's never looked back. "I've been to 38 countries," he said. "And I can tell you for sure that this one is home. This is where we're supposed to be. It's the safest place, and the best place for us, and I hope you put down deep roots and make families here."

And he also said that he doesn't consider himself a "survivor," but rather a "victor." "We won," he said. "I survived the nazis terrible scheme. I did not just survive, I won. I have two children and four grand children and had a long life with two careers and travel... I won."

I guess, as I'm writing it, that that's how I feel in Israel vs. America. In America on memorial day, I felt like the Jews survived. In Israel, I feel like we won.

What got me thinking about all of this actually was a song that my counselor Roland, from Birthright, posted on his wall today. It's an old Yiddish song, I've found out, called "Dona Dona." It seems like most Ashkenazi Jews know this song, and maybe even most people of my parents' generation, but I'd never heard it before.

The yiddish lyrics are like this:
Oyfn furl ligt dos kelbl 
Ligt gebundn mit a shtrik 
Hoykh in himl flit dos shvelbl
Freydt zikh, dreyt zikh hin un krik.

Chorus
Lakht der vint in korn 
Lakh un lakht un lakht 
Lakht er op a tog a gantsn 
mit a halber nakht.

Hey Dona, dona, dona...

Shrayt dos kelbl, zogt der poyer 
"Ver zhe heyst dikh zayn a kalb? 
Volst gekert tsu zayn a foygl 
Volst gekert tsu zayn a shvalb?"

Lakht der vint in korn.....................

Bidne kelber tut men bindn 
Un men shlept zey un men shekht 
ver s'hot fligl, flit aroyf tzu 
iz bay keynem nit keyn knekht 

Lakht der vint in korn.......

Now, I can't understand the Yiddish. So I found two translations.

The first one is the rhyming song-y one, which was popularized by Joan Baez, I guess.  Here's her version:

And here are those rhyme-y words:

On a wagon bound for market

There's a calf with a mournful eye

High above him there's a swallow

Winging swiftly through the sky

How the winds are laughing

They laugh with all the their might

Laugh and laugh the whole day through

And half the summer's night

Donna Donna Donna Donna

"Stop complaining", said the farmer

Who told you a calf to be

Why don't you have wings to fly with

Like the swallow so proud and free

How the winds are laughing...

Calves are easily bound and slaughtered

Never knowing the reason why

But whoever treasures freedom

Like the swallow has learned to fly

How the winds are laughing...

BUT HERE are the lyrics translated literally, with no mind to rhyme or poetry, purely to capture the literal meaning of the yiddish:

On a wagon there lies a little calf, lies bound with a strap.
High in the sky flies a swallow, joyfully circling back and forth.

The wind laughs in the cornfield, laughs and laughs and laughs,
It laughs for a whole day, and half of the night.
Dona dona...

The little calf cried, and the farmer said, "Whoever told you to be a calf?
You could have been a bird, you could have been a swallow..."

The wind laughs in the cornfield, laughs and laughs and laughs,
It laughs for a whole day, and half of the night.
Dona dona...

Poor calves - one binds them, carries them off and slaughters them.
Whoever has wings flies high up, and is a slave to no-one.

The wind laughs in the cornfield, laughs and laughs and laughs,
It laughs for a whole day, and half of the night.
Dona dona...

I found this information on Mudcat, where there's a really interesting debate about what the song means. 

A lot of people on the thread are upset because they suppose the song is meant to be comforting, and the farmer is being a jerk by implying that the calf could have chosen to be a swallow, and that's not a thing to say to the poor calf. It's kind of the idea of victim-blaming, implying that someone was in a bad situation because of choices they made instead of choices someone else made for or on them, or just lousy circumstances. The whole "Well, were you wearing a shirt skirt? Were you walking alone at night?" line of questioning.

But I think reading the literal translation changes that idea a bit, and is more reflective of how I see Judaism in general.

The "rhyme-y" version has a lot of moralizing statements, like "treasures freedom" and "learned to fly," which do imply that there are calf-people, who don't treasure freedom and don't learn to fly, and bird-people, who do treasure freedom and do learn to fly. And that calves can choose to be calves, and people can choose to be calves and be slaughtered like them - or not.

The idea that people can choose is obvious in the way early Israelis interacted with holocaust survivors. To people born in pre-state Israel, who were already the "New Jew," all embodied and strong and hands-on, there was a lot of judgement (not ubiquitous, but too-common) about survivors, that they had stayed too long in Europe, that they had missed opportunities to escape or fight back. Sometimes they were referred to as "sheep," which is the same thing as a calf for this conversation. The fact that some people DID fight back, or DID escape, only seemed to underscore something about the ones that did not. I think this narrative comes mostly from fear, from the need to believe that fate is always under our control, that "I would have escaped, because I would have known better," because it's too much for the human psyche to accept a situation that is out of one's hands completely. Plenty of people fought back and lost, plenty of people tried to escape and failed, many brave and brilliant people were murdered.

But if you look at the literal translation, there's no talk of "treasuring freedom" or "learning to fly." There are only factual observations. Calves are born calves, and no one told them to be, they didn't choose, they just were. And people bind and slaughter them. And birds have wings, fly, and are slaves to no-one. They also didn't choose or learn to be that way, but it's how they are. I don't think it's a song that's meant to comfort, it's a song that's making a statement.

Which is how I think Judaism is in general: descriptive and not prescriptive. This is something most Jews disagree with me about. But I see Judaism as describing the world as accurately as it can, and helping people see it clearly and accurately, rather than describing a world that should be and how one should be.

This same debate appears in the Exodus story, in Passover we just finished.  It's something that my Dad emphasized to me a lot when I grew up.  That Moses was raised free, raised a prince in fact, and so was able to see clearly the inhumane treatment of the Hebrews and to envision an alternative fate for them. This is something the Hebrews couldn't do, they could not lead themselves out of the situation of their birth, they needed to be led by someone forged in a different way. (And in fact, there's lots written about how they never did leave slavery, they were slaves in their hearts and minds until they died in the desert. But that's another blog entry or ten.)

So anyway, looking at the literal translation, I think what we have is an idea that there are situations in which circumstances are out of your control. And that's all the more reason why, when they are in your control, you choose the path of freedom, of being slave to no-one. Again, it's not that you can always choose - but when you can, choose freedom.

This sounds obvious, but with would-be dictators popping up elected left and right around the world, I don't think it's so obvious at all. I think in some ways we're letting the rope be fastened to us just this minute. But I think we're still at a point of choice and we need to choose.

And even on a micro level, we so often choose to be or are unconsciously the calf, tied to habits, old thought patterns, locations, occupations, or people which make us unhappy or even do us harm.

I know that this factored into my choice to become Israeli, to put my weight behind the project of the Jewish State. I know people who would vehemently deny the freedom or morality of that move, but from the perspective of this Jew, being Israeli means choosing freedom and it means choosing for the next generation to be swallows. For generations of jews to be born and raised in Israel, to naturally, from birth, have wings and are slaves to no-one.

It took Israelis to show me what I could never see as a Diaspora Jew, and there were times that process felt like a farmer asking who told me to be a calf for slaughter, when I could have been a swallow. Fortunately, for me, there was choice involved and there is still, and I made the change I could and try to make choices as much as I can. Where we must be calves we must, but those moments are fewer than we tell ourselves.

I guess that is the sensation to me, of listening to this song and being in Israel on Yom HaShoah. Israelis are swallows, slaves to no-one.

Still a Baby Israeli

I've been an Israeli for exactly one year!

That's pretty crazy. According to some policies, I'm not such a new immigrant anymore. My health insurance status changes. I think maybe my ATM fee is higher (in Israel, there are ATM fees even at your own bank. Banking here is hilarious.) And the organization that helped me come here will no longer call me once every two months to check on me.

But I definitely still feel new. My Hebrew is still just okay (though I think it is measurably stronger than a year ago, on all fronts), I still can't understand most jokes, I still miss laundry out of the dryer (hang drying clothes is not pastoral it's just annoying and my clothes get all crispy), and I still love eating in kibbutz dining halls, which everyone tells me will wear off. I think everyone is wrong. The thrill of communal schnitzel is FOREVER.        

I thought about doing a big recap, and a big updates about my living and working and breathing and praying, but that feels exhausting so lets instead do...

10 HIGHLIGHTS OF MY FIRST YEAR AS AN ISRAELI
(In the order in which I remembered them, not necessarily significance.)

1) THAT TIME I TOOK ADVANTAGE OF BEING TEAR-GASSED

One time I went to the ministry of economy in Jerusalem to get a special paper I needed to work multiple jobs at the same time. Or something. I still don't understand that paper.

Ministries here have unpredictable hours, long lines, and lots of red tape. By the time I found where I was supposed to be, it was hopeless that I would get to the front of the line before the ministry closed.

EXCEPT THEN everyone around me starting sneezing. And coughing. And then one guy ran to a trash can and puked. And then more people puked and started running from the room.

I was miraculously unaffected, and seized my chance to race to the front of the line and ask for my paper.

Lady: ...the room is full of tear gas.
Ariane: Oh is that what it is?
Lady: Yes, you should evacuate.
Ariane: I want this paper that I need.
Lady: Are you serious right now?
Ariane: Yes.
Lady: Don't you want to come back another day?
Ariane: No, I never want to come back.

I got the mystery paper and I also found out I am inexplicably immune to tear gas. Not that I want to test that immunity. I'm not asking for trouble.

2) THAT TIME ROY AND I ROAD-TRIPPED NORTH FOR HIS BIRTHDAY
Roy is my amazing boyfriend/best-friend/pokemon hunting partner/fellow snack enthusiast. He turned 25 in November and I took him to a cute guest house in the north. It was gorgeous! We drove around. We looked at the Syrian border. We ate really good food. We wore matching robes around the guest house. We listened to classic American rock on the road.

3) THE BEST VALENTINE'S MEAL EVER
Speaking of Roy, we had our first date on Valentine's day, 2015. Which means that is also our anniversary. Which is nice because it's easy to remember and it saves money on fancy dinners. And this year we definitely had a fancy dinner. We went to Kitchen Market at the port and it was INCREDIBLE. It was a culinary EXPERIENCE. My favorite thing I ate, and really maybe the best thing I ate all year period, was this crazy egg in a jar. It was like... a soft boiled egg in a jar with... something else. Like corn something. I don't even know, and I didn't know then, I was just shocked by how overwhelmingly delicious it was and I will never forget our first anniversary because of how great Roy is and how great that egg was.

4) YEMINI'S WEDDING
Roy's friend Yemini got married last fall, and it was an amazing Israeli wedding. Huge and animated, with neon lights and fog machines and tons and tons of dancing. Lots of good friends and food and treats. Definitely a night to remember. Pre-wedding there was a henna ceremony, and here's a photo from that:

5) ULPAN ANTICS
"Ulpan" most of the time refers to an introductory Hebrew class immigrants take. It's also an introduction to Israeli culture. It's like an assimilation class. It REALLY wasn't for me - I don't learn languages well in a 50-person class or for 3.5 hours at night - so I only went for a few weeks. But it was a really funny and unique experience, being in a class with other immigrants from around the place. My teacher tended to make off-color remarks, which bothered me, but occasionally led to funny situations like this: (translated from Hebrew into English by me)

Teacher: I heard that Russians take a shot of vodka with black pepper when they have the flu.

Russian student: NO.

T: Really?

RS: NO. THAT'S INSANE. IT'S RED PEPPER.

6) MY DESENSITIZATION

Israeli warmth is a real thing. Israeli bravery is a real thing. Israeli hilarity is a real thing. Israeli rudeness is also a real thing. People are so rude! Although honestly, it's Americans in Israel who were collectively rudest to me over the last year. It used to hurt my feelings when people were rude. I used to carry it with me for a long time and fret about it. But now I just laugh when people are rude. People are ridiculous creatures. My stress levels are so much lower, it's amazing. Ah, rude people and their silly rudeness.

7) ISTANBUL
One perk about living in Israel is you can easily fly to many locations that are far from the States. Like how in March I went to Istanbul for a weekend with Sam. In all honesty, I was a cranky child for a lot of the trip because it was raining and sprained my ankle on the cobblestones. I'm sorry for that, Sam. But now that my ankle is better and it's not raining anymore I remember it as a great trip. What a cool city. What a HUGE city. I'm glad I saw it then, since things are pretty nuts there now. And it also made me appreciate Israel even more in contrast.

8) TEACHING AND LIVING IN JERUSALEM
Last summer I taught a public speaking course in Jerusalem, so I lived there for a month. I really love Jerusalem and I miss it, and it was a great way to start off my new life as an Israeli. There were tons of field trips and cool lectures, my students were lovely and amazing, I had an incredible mentor, really interesting faculty peers, and a great apartment in the center of town. I feel fondly about that time.

9) MY ABILITY TO SURVIVE
I've found lots of different types of employment. I've survived several illnesses, and the far more dangerous accompanying doctor's visits. I've signed contracts in Hebrew and so far there have been no surprises. I wrote 2 EU reports and an EU proposal and a million other documents. I didn't let a lot of people push me around. Sometimes, I did let people push me around and I still got through. I ate felafel every day for lunch for 3 months and lived to blog about it. I was lucky to have a lot of love and support from good friends in Israel, but still, I feel good about my resilience.

10) MY ALIYAH DAY
My friends came to the airport soooo early in the morning to meet me when I landed. And there was music and cake and balloons and there were tons of soldiers and speeches by politicians and cameras and free stuff and love and pride all over the place. What a remarkable day that was.

I think many olim (Jewish immigrants) here become disillusioned because this kind of celebration upon their arrival makes them think that their whole lives here will be in the same vein.  But the big party is the start of being an Israeli, and being an Israeli means generally being underpaid, being in a lot of humidity, feeling jaded and unsurprised about terror, using a bomb shelters as a storage closet, having meaningful conversations with convenience store owners and cab drivers and randoms in line at the bank, eating fresh tahini with everything, playing with strangers' dogs on the beach, drinking water every second of every day and still being dehydrated, reading the Bible and then walking through a town that's in the Bible, feeling relieved to be a Jew, feeling not Jewish enough, wearing flip flops to work, realizing the most fun things to do are free (which is a good thing because no one has any money), learning that pharmacists know more than doctors a lot of times, going without frozen and canned food, never ever shoveling, eating 3x my weight in rice with raisins and almonds,  not taking crap from anyone, laughing at yourself and everyone else all the time, sweeping out your apartment after a sand storm, learning the art of walking through puddles of air conditioner run-off without getting splashed on, and being able to comfortably disagree about politics and stay friends. The party is just the beginning.

Always Coming Back Home

A lot has happened in the month+ since I last posted, but I noticed around the time I decided I wanted to immigrate to Israel that things began to feel more normal here. Things that I would normally write a big entry about became things that just seemed part of every day life. I'm writing now because I know everyone back home wants to hear what's up, and also because I think it's important to try not to give in to that kind of normalization. So here's a summary using photos of what I've been up to the last several weeks!

But first...

Immigrating to Israel

So, I decided to take the plunge! Many of you know I'd been debating making aliyah for the last few years, and I decided to go for it. Basically, I feel more alive here, I feel like I can better relate to society as a whole and am more on board with the national project here than elsewhere. I really identify with the land historically and spiritually, and I connect with people in a really different way here, and I feel like I could really contribute and build something here. I also feel that if I'm going to do it, now's the time, when this past year was a "soft landing" of sorts, and I'm finally starting to grasp the language and know my way around and the ins-and-outs. And if you're wondering, I do retain my American citizenship. I'm a dual citizen. Anyway, if you're reading this blog, you've probably caught on for a while that I really thrive in Israel, so it's exciting to dive in!

If you have at least one Jewish grandparent, immigrating to Israel is really easy. I had to spend a few hours filling out and scanning paperwork, then I had to go to the Jewish Agency office in Jerusalem for an interview, which basically consisted of a friendly but sardonic dude asking me what I was thinking and then rubber stamping me. Israel gives a lot of assistance to new (Jewish) immigrants, financially and in terms of support and opportunities, so that's really going to help. I also got a job! At least, temporarily. I'll be teaching a summer course in public speaking at a fabulous small college in Jerusalem, which I am so excited about.

I went to the TEDx conference in Jerusalem! It was great to see so many innovators in Israel.

Matat took me to see The Apples, whom I now love. It was so fun to let loose and dance, it'd been a while since I'd seen live music, and I'd forgotten how much I love it.

I went to a wedding with Roy! It was so fun. Weddings are much more relaxed here than in the states, you can wear much more comfortable clothing and there's a lot more intoxication and in my opinion, more people dance. Also the food is great. 

There were also these peacocks wandering around the wedding site, and of course we all took pictures.

Peacock!

They gave us fun photo props!

After the wedding, we were all pretty tipsy so we couldn't immediately drive back to Tel Aviv. We went out to the beach to take a 4 hour nap, and when we went over the hill we saw this gorgeous sunset over the sea, and at the same time we all cried out "WaaaahhhhHHHWoooooaaaaa!" It was really breath taking in person, a photo can't capture it. 

Sunset and Me!

We went on a tour of the settlements in the West Bank! This is a view from one of the settlements. Ah beautiful, contested land!

Rivka, Me, Sam

A settler family telling us about their lives and why they choose to live in a settlement. Mostly people cited our Biblical claim to the land, protecting Israel proper from security threats, and how beautiful and peaceful it is.

We visited Aish Kodesh ("Holy Fire") an 'illegal' settlement. It was beautiful and they people were really friendly.

Blurry photo, but I wanted to show that many of them are also armed. Aish Kodesh has frequently been the target of violence and farm vandalism, so some residents choose to arm themselves. There's also an IDF presence. The weapon is registered - I asked, of course :).

Here are some notes from our speakers that day:

-The distance from Ben Gurion Airport to the West Bank is shorter than the distance from JFK to Laguardia. What that means for security is that if we evacuate the West Bank, anyone with ill intentions towards Israel could easily stand on top of a hill in the West Bank and fire rockets down at the airport with even your garden-variety launcher.

From Dani Dayan:

-"The Palestinians will have to accept that they tried to take the entire area by force and that came with a price tag. It has a price tag. And yes, they will realize less of their national aspirations than they had hoped, and that is a result of their own decisions. And when they recognize that, then maybe we can work towards a fruitful solution."

-"As long as (The Palestinians) see Israel as a successful colonial project and not a legitimate nation with a right to exist, there is no hope."

-"Since we are not colonists, but we are seen by the other side as such... this is the conflict in a nutshell and this is why it cannot be solved. Because it is an asymmetrical one."

-"If I have to define a Jewish State, in the way I am not willing to give up under any circumstances, it would b exemplified in the Solomon Operation. I am not willing to give that up, or to have to negotiate with an ethnic minority about if it is okay to do something like that at a moment's notice."

From Eugene Kontorovich:

-The Armistice Agreement Line (the edge of the West Bank) is based on the Israeli and Jordanian colonels stating where their troops were at the end of the war. The "Green Line" (Another name for the Armistice Agreement Line) was as far as the Arab troops got into Israel before an agreement was reached. If you believe in this line, then you have to believe what the line actually says: it is not a border. It was never a border. It was merely the positioning of troops at the end of the battle.

-"Why do people protest in Israel and not in Morocco? Or Armenia? Because here, activists are invited! Protected! Celebrated! And there you'd be dead! And people prefer to be prize-winning activists than dead!"

-The settlements in the West Bank are not actually against international law at all.

(There's a fascinating explanation for this, but it's to complicated for me to write here. I'll be home in the US this summer if you want to get coffee and hear about his perspective! Or you can google his talks.)

Our Bus Driver Randomly Said:

"Only one thing today is true... a kind word with a gun goes a lot farther than a kind word alone."

Friends Being Silly!

Gorgeous blooms in Tel Aviv

More gorgeous flowers!!

Tel Aviv Pride Parade! It was so fun. Packed with people for miles. Music, dancing, and people throwing lots of water from rooftops.

Pride!

Meretz, the far left party, advertised at the parade.

Sam and me at pride!

And of course, the city was alive and packed as the Middle Eastern gay community gathered in Tel Aviv for such events as "Tel-A-Beef"

Yeah! Now let's give all genders civil rights! How about it? :D

The same week, there was a birthright megaevent in TLV, in which tons of birthright busses gathered in one spot and did whatever it is they do together. It was so fun to see all the baby birthrighters in Israel for the first time! Ah, memories.

I like hanging around music shops with Roy. I mean, who wouldn't? <3

My roomies Ido and Yahli and I went on a road trip to surprise Batsheva, who was in the south on a birthright trip.  We stopped at this odd road-side extravaganza. It had this oil well.

And this really cute goat

And this really pretty horse. And chickens. And an inflatable bouncy castle.

And jahnun!

And then we went to this place called "The Hill of Tom and Tomer" which is a memorial primarily to these two guys who died in a crazy helicopter accident. This pole has a dove for every person who died.

A headline with all the victims

This stump played various patriotic music on demand

My soldier roomies automatically saluted when they heard

We also stopped for gas at this place...? Which is in Abu Gosh... which is an Arab town outside of Jerusalem.  Why??

Who really cares why?

Yahli, Ido, and I had one last dinner together. I don't know where the year went. Ido said, "A lot of people live in Tel Aviv, but not a lot of people really have a home here. We're lucky." And he's so right. I could not have dreamed up better roomies this year, or a better place to live. I love you guys! Thank you for being my home and family in Israel!! <3 <3

I like this

I tend to live in places that proudly celebrate robbing and overthrowing the British :D

I helped a startup film a kickstarter video. It was really fun! I can't wait to see it.

And Roy and I starred in the homework assignment of his friend Guy, a film student.  It's cute and fun!

The school year ended, so I had to say goodbye to the girls I teach every week at the elementary school. They were the BEST and I adore them and I think they're going to go far.  This is Najwa, Sara, and Janat is being saucy as always. She's the least shy person in the world, but apparently you take out a camera and she hides. 

They have a really small library and this is one of their books.  Hm.

I also like this, because it's true.

Jerusalem continues to be totally gorgeous and magical

The mountains near the Dead Sea!

OoooooooooOOoooh

But alas, the Dead Sea is shrinking really fast. This is where the shore was in 1984. You can't see here but the shore is now... I don't know, 100 yards away from here? 200?

Samaria also continues to be beautiful! I went to Rivka's house for shavuot lunch

And Matat's for Shavuot dinner! I felt so loved! Thanks ladies <3

Matat, her Grandma the pioneer, and Me

In all cases, there was tons of amazing cheese. Shavuot is the holiday of cheese. (And the holiday of when we received the Torah.) And it's the holiday of little orthodox children having watergun fights, because "water is essential to life, like the Torah."

And Dorotnikim went to Klil, this interesting wealthy hippy town in the north that is home to many artists and journalists and turns all its lights off at night and composts a lot.

And there was sacred singing in a teepee! It was beautiful, actually.

Roy's band had their very first performance at Shenkar College! It was GREAT. They are so talented. I'm so excited to see what they do.

And he let me play with his pedal board after :D

I have a map of Israel on my wall with little hearts for all the places I want to go, and stars for places I've been.

All year, the heart I most wanted to check off was Tel Chai. It was also maybe the hardest to check off because it's kind of tough to get there and my Israeli friends aren't super enthused about going to the faaaarthest north place in the country. But Roy and I took a weekend up north and we went!

Tel Chai is mostly known for a 1920 skirmish against raiding Arabs which resulted in the death of several kibbutz members and military leader Josef Trumpeldor. It's a bit of a symbol of endurance against odds, which is the theme of the central Jewish national story, really.

But aside from Zionist glory stories (which, let's face it, would get me to show up anyway), I really wanted to go because in Tel Chai's beautiful cemetary is a statue carved by a relative of mine, Avraham Melnikov. 

I can't remember exactly the link... he was either my Grandmother's cousin, or her uncle. Something like that.

Anyway, he was born in Bessarabia and studied in the US and moved to Israel, where he helped found an art foundation and sculpted a lot. The rest of his story goes way downhill, but FIRST, he made a pretty famous statue to the battle of Tel Chai:

It says "It's good to die for our country", supposedly Trumpeldor's last words, and the names of those who died.

For me, it's amazing to be related to someone connected with the Israeli landscape and with Zionist history, because obviously I'm a big obsessed with these things. It was really moving for me to get to see the monument in person.

Three Israeli Lions!

And as it turns out, Avraham and his wife are buried right behind the lion!

In Jewish tradition (those of you who read ETHER might remember) you leave a stone on graves you visit, so that people who come after you see someone else feels the same pain and remember the same person and it makes them feel less alone.  Well, the little stone is mine... but who put the big one?!?! It's a mystery. I do feel less alone :)

Amazing view from Avraham's grave. If you have to die for your country, this is a pretty "good" place to do it.

Roy and his Mom, holding water. Before we left for our little road trip, she followed us out the door and poured water at our feet, as per Libyan tradition. She said her mother would do that to her before all her big trips, because it symbolizes the waves, which go out and then always come back in, like travelers should do.

I wanted to put this last because I'm typing this in the Frankfurt airport, on my way to the states for about a month before I immigrate to Israel in July. Am I going out or coming back in? It feels like both at the same time, going out from Israel, coming back to the States. And in July, I know I'll feel like I'm going out from the States, but coming back in to Israel.  I think, for now, I'm pretty satisfied with that. How lucky to have two homes. I'm always coming home. I feel like that's been a huge theme for me this year, finding home, building home, being homesick while still being at home. 

It's hard to believe this year is over. I feel like I've come so far from last August. There are measurable differences... my language skills are so much better, I built a social circle for myself, I went to a hundred new places and tried a hundred new foods and learned so much about my heritage and traditions and the modern state built on top of and beside those things. 

But I think the bigger things are far less quantifiable. I'm so much more self reliant. I'm so much more at peace with who I am. I'm so much more flexible, more willing to wait and see, more comfortable with the unknown and the uncontrollable and unpredictable. I just have this sensation that my bones and my muscles and my mind and my emotions are bonded together in a way they weren't before, and are operating cooperatively with each other. Which seems like it should be a baseline of living, but I see now that I was somehow living without.

I'm grateful for Dorot for supporting me in this amazing year of adventures. I promise I'm going to do something amazing someday and you'll think it was a good decision!

Thank you to everyone I love in Israel, my home, for being with me through everything this year, and sharing this extraordinary country with me, and welcoming me, and making me feel like I belong, too.

And thank you to everyone I love in the States, my home, for making me feel close to you always, as far away as I am, and all the skype sessions, and all the blubbering and elated phone calls.  Being a Jew in the Jewish state is amazing. And being a misfit in the American States is amazing too, thanks to you. 

I'm going home/I'm coming home/I'm coming back home! 

Always coming back home.