Shalom Sesame

So as I expected I suck at blogging because I’ve been here for more than a week and I haven’t written at all. Between my lack of internet and surplus of trying persian foods it’s just been impossible. But as my days are slowly becoming routine I find myself with time to write again.
I arrived in sunny Tel Aviv and made it to Jerusalem with a couple of hours before Shabbat started. I showered and went to synagogue with the boyfriend and his family. I should mention that I refer to him as “the boyfriend” because he requested that the world not read about him here. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s embarrassed to be associated with me, or because he’s involved in top-secret Israeli operations that would be jeopardized by the high volume of readers I have knowing that he’s in a relationship with a girl who writes a silly blog. Either way his name is not Sahar Zada, and I don’t refer to him as “the boyfriend” because I think it makes me sound like Carrie Bradshaw.
Anyway the boyfriend’s family is Persian, and they belong to a synagogue that is very different than mine. This makes me miss my father very much because he loves going to synagogues where the singing sounds like crying, I mean middle eastern synagogues. The service was a little different, but I managed to follow with the help of the boyfriend’s little sisters.
My first weekend with his family was pretty overwhelming because they don’t speak English, and I don’t eat radishes like apples. But having now spent quite a bit of time with them I feel very at home, and I really enjoy the time we spend together. I can tell they’re comfortable with me too because they asked me to make them broccoli at 9 PM on a Thursday. Being a descendent of European Jewry I’m only somewhat familiar with Persian traditions, but I do believe this was a test, and I do believe I got an A- on it.
This week I also started my program! We began our ulpan classes, which is basically a five-hour intensive language program five days a week. I really like the people in my class and I really like the teachers. That’s right, we have two teachers, it’s too much work for one person to teach, but it’s a reasonable amount for us to learn. The good news is their names are Gila and Brooria. Brooria. Brooria. Imagine that in an Israeli accent. I love it. It’s like the offspring of a broom and Gloria from Modern Family.
I’ve gotten pretty settled into my dorm, and I’m getting ready to register for classes. I’ve signed up for a couple of trips. This is one of the best things about studying abroad in Israel. There are so many wealthy observant Jews who are willing to subsidize trips around the country to encourage happy Jewish lifestyles and alcoholism. (More on these trips after I actually go on them.)
Being in Jerusalem is really special. I can hear the muslim call to prayer outside my window, which hasn’t gotten annoying yet, and I can hop on over to the kotel anytime I’m feeling spiritually inspired. There’s also sesame seeds on everything, and I love sesame-coverd-carbs.
I’m really starting to feel comfortable in my new routine, and sometimes I catch myself thinking in Hebrew. Even though things are really great I still miss home a lot. I miss my kitties, and parents, and I really miss all my friends in Boston. They’re having so much fun without me and there’s someone else sleeping in my bed. It’s too weird to think about. The good news is, Modern Family this week was amazing, and Alexis’ blackberry started working in Spain.
P.S. If anybody knows how to make Persian rice please let me know. I checked my syllabus and it’s next on my curriculum.

ManiCuring my worries.

So I started packing last night and was pleasantly surprised when most of the clothes I’d selected weighed about 40 pounds in a suitcase.  This is great news because I’ll be traveling with a five-pound bottle of tequila and my camelback.  Don’t worry; I’m not combining the two.  The camelback is for the many hikes I’ll be doing in order to lose weight for my brothers wedding at the end of the summer.  The tequila is a gift from Mexico for my boyfriend’s family who will be hosting me the first weekend I’m there.  When I bought the tequila I also bought my boyfriend a bottle of really spicy Mexican hot sauce.  This will probably weigh down my suitcase too, but it won’t weigh me down.  I hate spicy food, and the boyfriend likes to pour his hot sauce on my food when he decides it’s his turn to finish my plate.  I’m gonna look great at this wedding.

Today I finished my errands, which included a manicure.  Ling, my usual nail technician, who calls me “girl” even though she knows my name, kept shaking my hand. “RELAX!” The fifth time she snapped at me I snapped back “Listen Ling, I know you’re going to do a great job, and I’m sorry if I’m making it hard for you, but I’m leaving the country tomorrow for a really long time, and I’m really anxious about it, so I don’t think relaxation is in the cards today.” I didn’t feel so bad about my response because I know Ling thinks I’m her girl, but I did start analyzing my anxiety which obviously only made me more anxious.

Just as I was about to enter panic mode, something I do all the time, a woman and her high school aged daughter walked in.  I knew this woman from somewhere, and judging by her cool glasses, it had to be through my mother.  “I know you.” She said.   “Oh I know, you work out at lifetime!”  She was wrong, but I was willing to let Ling think I worked out.  “No…I know, I’ve helped you at Anthropologie like a million times!”  She was right.  Ling told her I was going abroad and my friendly sale’s associate gushed.  “This is going to be an amazing opportunity for you.  You’re going to have the best stories and such an amazing time.”  And she didn’t even know about my boyfriend.

As I left with pale pink nails I decided that it’s good that I’m going, and it’s definitely time to leave Columbus for a while.  My Anthropologie friend was right, I am going to have an amazing time.  I’m going to make new friends, spend time with people I love, and be in a city that makes me feel happy.  What worried me is that we felt like we knew each other, and that means I have been at Anthroplogie too much, and this is why it’s time to leave.

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been really anxious all day, and have done that pathetic wet eyes face at my parents about seven times since lunch.  But I know that tomorrow starts a wonderful trip for me and I can’t wait for all the surprises.  I managed to pack two suitcases within a weight limit, which include multiple items of down bedding.  I don’t expect anything to be more challenging than that.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up, shower, stuff little things I forgot into my suitcases, freak out, and leave the country.  I’ll worry about whether or not I should let immigration know that I have an Israeli boyfriend, stress over the giant boogers I get every time I fly, and hyperventilate when my plane gets delayed.  For now I’ll just snuggle up for one last night in my big bed with Murphy, my furry kitty who has been with me forever, and is coming on the plane with me to Israel.  I’ll be brave for him.

One last note that has nothing to do with this post but is hilarious.  Last night my parents and I ate at Level, a gay bar/restaurant in downtown Columbus with delicious food and waiters.  All the décor is white leather, and there are TVs all over playing music videos of current billboard hits and gay friendly oldies such as Paula Abdul, Cher, Madonna, and Elton John.  I clearly love this place.  The music video for “Dynamite” came on.  “Do you guys recognize this?” I asked them, clearly referring to the Hanukkah parody a Yeshiva University acapella group made last month. “Yeah, it’s the Galileo song.” Said my mom.  “What?”  “I throw my hands up in the air sometimes saying ayo, Galileo.”

No one saw this coming...

Okay, so my three best friends from high school and I are all going abroad.  They're all already in Europe and they all have awesome blogs.  And I'm not going to Europe, so I'm already left out, so I'm going to start a blog too.  It won't be as witty or well-written as theirs because they all love writing...I just love talking about myself, but I'm going to have good stories to share too, so weather eye right well oar knot I'm going two dew my best.

I'm writing from my hotel room in Mexico before I head out for our final dinner south of the boarder.  Tomorrow I will fly back to Columbus and pretend to clean my room, do laundry, and pack for three days until I take of for J-town.

Me starting this blog is just about as ridiculous as me going abroad.  Last year on Patriot's Day, Marathon Monday, the best day of the year to go to BU, I remember being so glad that I wouldn't be abroad in the spring of my junior year.  Almost all of my friends had plans to go away, and somehow I ended up being the only one of my friends, aside from you Jordan Rossman, leaving campus.  My academic advisor and my friends who had recently returned from their abroad semesters were the only ones in Boston who thought I should go.  To my surprise my parents also wanted me out of the country.

It's a good thing that I'm a religion major focusing on Judaics and minoring in Hebrew because otherwise Jerusalem would be the worst place for me to go learn about the world.  I've already lived their twice, and know enough importnat lawyers and doctors in the city that I won't be able to get into any trouble.   The truth is even though I think I know everything, I don't, and being a long term visitor over the age of 12 is  something very different than what I know life to be like in Israel.

A good friend of mine attended Hebrew U, which is where I will be in about a week, last year and loved it.  She said she felt like she was at home in Jerusalem.  I feel like I've made a home for myself in Boston, and I know I'm going to miss my amazing apartment, roommates, neighbors, friends, professors, and job like crazy, but I found a lot of comfort in what she said.  I think she's right, I don't feel like I'm diving into the unknown, a big part of me feels like I'm simply going back home.

I don't know what classes I'm taking, and I don't know if my cool American clothes are going to be cool in Israel, but I know that I'm lucky enough to have people both back home and in my new home who will help me figure it all out.  I have amazing opportunities waiting for me and I can't wait for all the surprises that lie ahead.

Also, I recently found out that Marathon Monday is going to coincide with Passover.  This reminds me that it's going to be so much easier and more delicious to keep kosher in Israel, and I'm not so sad to be missing my pan-ultimate marathon monday if it means sipping (chugging) potato-vodka.