Playing Catch-Up pt. 1

It has been a while since I’ve been able to sit down and write, and as you can imagine a lot has happened in the interim. Let’s play catch up. Apologies if this isn’t a coherent blog post – there’s a lot to cover so feel to pick and choose to read what interests you! I've broken it up into 4 different posts. 

Yom Kippur (Friday, October 3- Saturday, October 4)

It’s not often that I say I’m excited to celebrate Yom Kippur. Previously, Yom Kippur was a day I spent watching TV and being bitter because I am hungry and fasting. I looked forward to the holiday this year, though, because I had heard a lot about what it’s like to spend Yom Kippur in Israel.

Two of my roommates and I headed over to Rosi’s house for “the last supper,” if you will.  I usually try to stay hydrated before fasting and eat a reasonably sized meal.  That being said, I had no restraints when it came to indulging in Rosi’s feast. I also had shwarma earlier that day which happened to have a fly nestled in it so I’m pretty sure I was just trying to forget that whole experience.

A bit before sundown/ when the fast was to start, a siren could be heard throughout the city as a warning that there was 20 minutes left until Yom Kippur was to start. Since High Holiday tickets in Los Angeles tend to be extremely expensive and I just spend my time sitting in synagogue thinking about how hungry I am as opposed to atoning, I don’t usually go to synagogue on Yom Kippur. This year, though, I wanted to experience what synagogue in Israel was like. Rosi was more than happy to have my roommates and myself tag along with her family for what was my first time in synagogue during this trip to Israel.

If I’m going to be completely honest, I was not a huge fan of the experience. We attended services at a Yemenite synagogue. First, the synagogue was separated by gender. Men were obviously right in the center of all the action on the first floor while the women sat on the second floor. Just in case that wasn’t enough to keep the men focused on prayers and not the ladies, not-so-see-through curtains obstructed the view from the second floor. This was the first thing that put me off. MOVING ON- the second offense was the sale of mitzvahs and prayers for the service. This was something like I’d never seen before.  An HOUR of the evening was spent auctioning off opportunities for the men to participate in the evening’s service. For example, Rosi’s husband shelled out some big bucks (or should I say shekels?) so one of my roommates could carry the Torah. This was obviously an extremely selfless act; it just sort of upset me that an actual auction was occurring on the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. In all fairness, American synagogues charge people for tickets to High Holiday services, but this happens BEFORE the actual holiday.

As for the actual service - which only happened after a short break was taken post auction – I could not follow along with anything that was going on. The siddurim (or prayer books) had no English in them, which I probably should have expected, but I am just so accustomed to my synagogue’s books, which have both English and Hebrew in them. So to summarize – not only was I clueless as to what was happening downstairs, but I also could not follow along with the only tangible part of the ceremony for myself.  I am glad that I attended the services so I wouldn’t be left wondering what if but as you can imagine I did not choose to return to synagogue the next day (sorry Dad).

After services, Rosi and her husband walked my roommates and me home. Given it is a Jewish state, no one drives on Yom Kippur. NO. ONE. Well except for ambulances. But other than that the streets are completely free of automobiles and FILLED with people. It was an incredible experience – I’d go so far to say that it was more of a spiritual experience than synagogue was. Once I got home I tried staying up as late as possible so I could hibernate through most of Saturday. I was able to sleep/stay in bed till about 2 pm, after which two of my roommates and I decided we would play cards and board games to occupy ourselves until the fast was over. And why play in your apartment when you can play in the middle of an otherwise busy highway?!

What?! I said I didn't eat, not that I refrained from electricity use!

Our time spent on the highway seemed to pass quickly and before we knew it, it was time to break our fast. While my roommates had planned to break their fasts with hummus and pita, I had bigger plans in mind. After some serious convincing on my behalf I was able to get my roommates to join me on an hour-long journey to Tel Aviv for some wings, fries, and ice cream cookie sandwiches. #exfatkidproblems. They were happy they obliged.

Almost worth the 25 hour wait

Lost in Translation

We are about 2 months into the program, and at this point my conversations with any Israeli I meet, whether random or not, seem to follow the same dialogue.

“What is your name?”

“Desiree”

“Eich?! (How?!)”

“Desiree!”

“Ma?!  (What?!)”

Begrudgingly, with a forced smile, “Daisy.”

“Ah Daisy! What are you doing in Israel?”

“I am here teaching English.”

“But you don’t speak Hebrew?”

                  

                    Desiree

My Israeli Alter Ego Daisy

I then explain how I understand a little Hebrew but it’s definitely not easy –the language barrier DOES make for some incredibly hilarious stories though. For example, one day a student in Kitah Aleph (1^st grade) approached me and explained that she knew how to say 2 things in English. Elated, I asked her to tell me what she knew.

“Good morning poopies!” she exclaimed.

“How cute,” I thought, “She is trying to say good morning puppies!”

I smiled and said “Good morning puppies?! Very good! What else do you know how to say?”

She responded, “Sheket!” which of course means quiet… in Hebrew.

It was a valiant effort on her behalf for sure.

After this encounter, I had the opportunity to observe an English class. As the teacher entered the classroom, she announced, “Good morning pupils!”

 It was in that exact moment that I realized the student earlier was not trying to show off her knowledge of canine salutations but rather say “Good morning pupils.” Safe to say I was a little embarrassed after realizing I incorrectly rephrased what she was trying to say.

                   

                     Puppies!!!

Pupils!!

Additionally, when us fellows first arrived at our school, one teacher used an English lesson to introduce us to the students. She had us share a little about ourselves, and then gave the children an opportunity to ask us questions. One student’s hand shot up and he blurted out, “Do you know Obama?” Before I could even answer, another student replied, “No but I know Bamba!” For those who don’t know, Bamba is a delicious peanut flavored Israeli snack. Well played child, well played.

                         

                            President Obama

Delicious Bamba

All in all, communication struggles and language barriers do make the job infinitely more difficult. While I do not possess a Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) certification, I do have the opportunity to really be in the trenches and learn through experience. Most importantly, though, I have the opportunity to be in the trenches and come back with hilarious stories.

A Good and Sweet New Year

I rarely get homesick. Whether living in Miami or living in Israel for 5 months (which I did in high school), I’ve always been able to stay in pretty high spirits. It’s not that I don’t miss my family and friends – I definitely do. But knowing that there is so much in store for me here keeps me excited and knowing that my friends are always a Facetime or iMessage away is comforting (I promise this post wasn’t sponsored by Apple).

That being said, there’s always something about the holidays that sparks a little homesickness within me.  Being away for the Jewish holidays is no exception. Knowing that Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot were all rapidly approaching, I started to miss my crazy and loud dinners with family and was nervous about what celebrating the holidays in Israel had in store for me.

Fanta reading "Happy Holidays"

I don’t really know why I concern myself with worries about the future here because time and time again Israel has pleasantly surprised me. When we sat with our host teacher and host principal for our very first meeting, they let us know that we would be joining the school staff at the end of September for slichot in Jerusalem.  Slichot, or penitential prayers, are said leading up to Rosh Hashanah in order to start the New Year fresh.  This year, I’d get the opportunity to do this at the Kotel/Western Wall.

We met on Sunday, September 21 at our school, where a charter bus took a group of 30 or so teachers and myself to Jerusalem. The drive took a little over an hour. Like I’ve mentioned before- all the teachers are so welcoming and have really made us feel as though we are family.  Our tour guide for the evening joined us on the bus and gave the group a little background on the idea of slichot and what the evening had in store for us. All of this was done in Hebrew though, so I just sort of sat there and smiled. But it seemed as though he was being very thorough and informative. Two thumbs up for him.

Jerusalem at Night 

When we arrived in Jerusalem, an instant sense of serenity besieged my body. That sounds corny, I know. I mean it though. The city of Jerusalem is so beautiful and the juxtaposition of old architecture with new culture is nothing short of breathtaking. We were given a bit of a tour around the old city and a little crash course on the history of Ashkenazi versus Sephardi ways of preparing for Rosh Hashanah. We even got to sit in a Sephardic synagogue in the Old City and hear a few prayers. Again, the tour was all done in Hebrew so there was lots of smiling and nodding on my behalf.   

Though I loved touring the Old City, I anxiously anticipated our visit to the Kotel. At about 11:30 PM (or 23:30 if we’re feeling Israeli) we made our way to the Western Wall. Now, I’ve visited the Kotel countless times, but on this night one thing became very clear to me. There is nothing quite like the Kotel at midnight on a day leading up to the high holidays. It was filled with people from all different ages and walks of life. I heard an array of different languages. There was no concept of personal space considering the billions of people there (rough estimate). And I loved every minute of it. It was a beautiful end to our evening in Jerusalem and something I will never forget. We headed back to little ol’ PTK at around 1:30 AM and got to take a short power nap before our next day of work.

An Incredibly Beautiful Moment Outside the Kotel

Erev Rosh Hashanah followed the Wednesday after our Jerusalem trip. As afore mentioned, my host teacher, Rosi, invited both my flatmate (another fellow at my school) and me to her home for dinner. Though I didn’t really know what to expect, I felt comfortable going to Rosi’s home because she has been so hospitable and kind thus far. She has even jokingly referred to my flatmate and me as her “children.” Rosi sent two of her sons to pick us up so we wouldn’t have to walk. The moment we arrived at her home I knew it was going to be an incredible evening.

A beautiful, appropriately decorated table for 20 or so people was set in her backyard. Rosi gave us a grand tour of her home and also let us know that if we ever wanted to stop by after school we were more than welcome to. It’s safe to say that Rosi is a saint. After meeting some family members and friends, we all sat for Rosh Hashanah Seder. It became very evident that this large Sephardic family was just as fun and loud as my very own - I felt right at home!  Jokes and good laughs were exchanged during the Seder, as well as multiple glasses of Tuborg - because what’s a Jewish holiday without copious amounts of alcohol?

 As we were about to sit for dinner, Rosi asked us if all of our flatmates had somewhere to be.  “Actually,” my flatmate Josh responded, “one of our roommates preferred to stay home this evening and not go anywhere.”

This answer displeased Rosi. A lot.

“What do you mean?! You have to go get him now! Call him and tell him one of my sons will come and pick him up.”

If you’re Persian, you’re extremely familiar with the idea of tarof. Kind of just saying something/offering something to get credit and not really expecting whoever is on the receiving end to take you up on your offer.

There was no tarof in Rosi’s offer. She was genuinely upset that my roommate had chosen to spend the holiday alone.

So Josh, Rosi’s son, and I got in a car and picked up our missing flatmate. Mid-dinner.

It was such a beautifully touching gesture. Tears welled up in my eyes because I was so overwhelmed with happiness and extremely moved by Rosi’s actions. When we returned to dinner, with our new addition, Rosi made sure to bring our flatmate different foods from the Seder that he missed as she went through and explained each of their significance.    

Fresh Dates, Challah, and Pomegranate Seeds Hold Significance in Seder

It was an incredibly beautiful evening. We drank, we ate, we laughed, and we learned from one another. Though I didn’t get to spend it with my family at home, I truly got to experience the next best thing. L’Shana Tova to those who celebrate, and may this year have only the best in store for you all.

Rosi's Moroccan Fish 

Safe to Say I Gained a Few Pounds Over Dinner

With the one and only Rosi

Petach Tikvah Sheli - פֶּתַח תִּקְוָה שלי

Walking up the stairs daily at Belmont High School (the school I worked at this past year), I always took a minute to admire a certain mural. The mural read, "Don't worry when you are not recognized, but strive to be worthy of recognition." These words, spoken by Abraham Lincoln, always forced me to stop and reflect. Working at Belmont was extremely challenging and emotionally taxing. Simple "thank you's" and appreciations from administration came few and far between. This quote reminded me that all that didn't matter. I wasn't working with at-risk youth for the recognition, but rather because it is what I am passionate about. So I continued on and spent the year cultivating my passion while simultaneously undergoing the most transformative year of my life.

My daily affirmation

Coming to Israel as a volunteer, I kept Honest Abe's words of wisdom in mind. I would neither expect nor seek recognition for my service.

There are no words to describe how pleasantly surprised I have been. Since we arrived in Israel, everyone has been so appreciative of the work us Fellows are doing.

A day after we arrived in PTK, the city municipality arranged a private tour for us around the city. Our tour began at HaMoshava Stadium, the primary football (or "soccer" depending on who you ask) stadium in Petach Tikva. It's a relatively small stadium with seats for up to 11,500 people. The stadium has 10 VIP suites, one of which was designed as a tribute to the memory of the soccer league in the Theresienstadt Ghetto. The exhibit was created "against the background of rising violence in Israeli soccer and to commemorate and to educate about Jewish sport during the Holocaust; close to the lawn of Israeli soccer." After touring the VIP Suites, we learned that the municipality extended an invitation to us to watch a football game from the comfort of a suite.

Seen inside the VIP suite

The beautiful stadium 

The municipality thanked us relentlessly for the work we are doing and gave us gift bags as parting gifts. The bags read "Petach Tikvah Sheli," meaning "My Petach Tikvah." The most meaningful gift that came out of the bag is a keychain embellished with a few different charms. One of the charms is engraved, with words loosely translating into "In recognition [of your work] in Petach Tikvah." 

Quite the 180 from last year

Everyone has truly welcomed us with open arms. From teachers offering us rides home to strangers opening their homes to us for Shabbat dinners, the culture of Israeli hospitality has made moving so far away from my family and friends so much easier. More than anything, I consider myself to be the fortunate one in this situation. I am incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to give back and spend 10 months serving in such an extraordinary country.

An appreciation card from students. I will only answer to "Degerey" from this day forward