After a long morning putting in time studying for the boards, I decided to beat most Israelis to the chase...and take a bike ride.
To those of you who have not had the pleasure of spending the Holiest of Days here in the Holy Land, you might need to be informed that while the more religiously inclined of the Israeli population spends their Yom Kippur in the Synagogue, praying and hoping to be "sealed" in the Book of Life, the "Chilonim," or secular Israelis are out riding their bikes.
Why?
Well, because no one drives on Yom Kippur, so the streets are clear for all sorts of recreational activities. "But why does no one drive on Yom Kipper?" is the logical question to ask. Well...I'm not sure. I'd like to say something such as, "The Holiness of the Day is so pervasive that even the Jews who are the most removed from religious practice feel that mundane activities such as driving just don't feel right." Maybe I'd add---riding their bikes, breathing the fresh air, and meditating on the beauty of this country and it's bike-riding people is their way of communing with G!d. Who am I to say that sitting in a cramped synagogue, being hungry, my legs tired from standing-sitting-standing-sitting all day is more of an effective way of achieving forgiveness?
So it was with these thoughts that I took a brief bike ride, though I'm not quite sure it was even remotely similar, because riding on the roads here WITH cars makes mountain climbing feel like a safe, relaxing walk in the park. I was not only thinking about the authentic-Israeli-Yom-Kippur-expereince, but also taking into account this past year and looking ahead to the next one.
I realize (and apologize) that I have been terrible at keeping this blog updated in the past year, but I it was not out of laziness or even being too busy (though it was a factor) that this occurred. Really, my second year of medical school was a year of intense study, which did not permit me much time to experience much outside the confines of the medical school library and the few places I knew I could retreat to for Shabbat---thus, I didn't really have much to share about my "Israel Experience."
In fact, things were becoming so monotonous and not-blog-worthy, that I finally decided that, if I was going to be studying this hard for the rest of medical school, I needed to better surround myself with the things that I considered important---including a functioning Jewish community, friends (outside of school), and access to good schwarma. I found all of these things in Ahuza, the community up in the Haifa mountains, to the South of the Carmel---where my friend Shmuel lives. And, as luck would have it, Shmuel's roommate (Natan) had gotten engaged and was looking for someone to take over the lease when he leaves.
So here I am now, sitting in my new apartment, breathing the thinner, mountain air of Ahuza, and getting ready to go enjoy a pre-Fast meal with one of the many hospitable-to-a-fault families that reside in this neighborhood (ok---there's no such thing as hospitable-to-a-fault...but, if there was, many of these families would qualify).
In the past two weeks, I started my Internal Medicine rotations, which have proven already to be an intense learning experience, where every day is full of the possibilities of both gathering in large amounts of the most important medical knowledge and wisdom to be a better doctor. Every moment presents an opportunity to learn, both technical knowledge from the doctors and nurses who work in our department, and undefinable---yet much more important---wisdom from each patient. I feel that the past two years have been working up to this, and it does not disappoint.
This past summer, I got to spend more time at home than I have since almost the beginning of college. It was wonderful to see everyone I was able to see, spend a few Friday Night dinners with my family, and to get to beat in pool-basketball a few times by various family members. It was exactly what I needed to face the challenging year ahead of me.
This next year will not only be full of externally learning about medicine, but also attempting to learn more about myself and discovering which field is best suited for my unique (....ok, strange...) qualities, strengths, and weaknesses. I also can look forward to taking my USMLE's (Nov. 9th), the visit of one of my brothers (and hopefully the others as well), working on my Hebrew (and possibly Russian and Arabic), and balancing this all with my personal life as well.
As I finish this off to go start getting prepared for Kol Nidre, I wanted to share a beautiful thought on forgiveness that I heard from Rabbi Klapper (with whom I studied the summer before starting medical school). The idea that "forgiveness out of love", which is the highest ideal of forgiveness that we can achieve, can not only completely remove the taint of sin and mitigate the punishment thereof, but actually turn that sin into virtue (as claimed by the Rabbis in the Talmud) is a challenging one for many reasons. One camp---which believes that all of our actions are pre-ordained and only the choice to "fear G!d" or not is decided by our free well---reasons that we can turn our sin into virtue simply be realizing that what we did was not sin at all, but actually part of G!d's larger plan. This is disturbing mostly because it denies any consequences for our actions, among other inherent problems.
Another camp---which believes in the inherent creative ability of Man to recreate himself---argues that when we achieve true forgiveness from G!d, we are like a new person. While this does burden us with more responsibility, it fails to fully explain why those old sins are not just left to be parts of our "old self", but instead become virtues.
The idea that Rabbi Klapper presents is, borrowing from both of these ideas, we can look at the world as a series of opening and closing doors of opportunity to better ourselves, improve the world, and become closer to G!d. Thus, the highest ideal of forgiveness would be the realization that the sins of our past have been done and cannot be changed---they have closed some doors---but, more importantly, they have opened others avenues of redemption. The worst thing we can do is dwell on our past mistakes, and ignore the opportunities that we now have---sometimes precisely because of those mistakes.
I hope everyone has an easy and very meaningful fast, and may you be sealed in the Book of Life for the year to come.
Yours,
Michael
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
Long Time Coming
After many (well....two) complaints that I should get back on the "blogging" horse, I realized that I miss being able to share some of the craziness of Israel with my wonderful family, friends, and stalkers. But so much has passed since I last blogged that I get very frustrated when I try and think of what to write about. Should I talk about trying to ski up North in the Golan? Any one of the crazy stories involving patients I have had at Afula's HaEmek Hospital? My mildly successful attempts to start a med-school minyan last semester? Hanging out with my Middle School teacher Mr. Uzan and family? Commenting on the war in Gaza? About my friends who fought in the war? About Purim? Or just all the generally crazy things that happen day-in and day-out?
Actually, things aren't that crazy here anymore. My apartment this year is much better behaved, and my neighbors decidedly less crazy (though I did have a humorous episode with the little kids in the apartment across the courtyard from my office window, who started throwing rocks at my window.....and then my roommate pretended to steak up behind me w/ a knife and then fake stab me while the little kids were watching....anyway---they stopped throwing rocks). Classes have---honestly---been taking up much more of my time, and, unfortunately, the library is not that exciting of a place. Neither is my classroom. But, on the bright side, I'm slowly but surely becoming a doctor. Which is the real reason I'm here anyway.
Briefly, to bring everyone up to speed: I started my second semester of my second year about a month ago. I'm taking Specific Pathology, Pharmacology II, Hematology, ICM (Intro to Clinical Medicine), Biostatistics, Epidemiology, and Entrepreneurship in Medicine. That takes up about 90% of my waking life. I also play basketball on Monday nights and sometimes make it to frisbee on Thursdays. I usually spend a few hours a week speaking to various members of my family on the phone, and probably too much time chatting on gchat with friends.
This week, however, I was consumed with one of the most pressing issues I have had to deal with as Chief Representative of the Technion Medical School Class of 2011. No, I'm not referring to a question of ethics, or any sort of medical emergency. I'm talking about vaccinations. That's right. The dean of our program found out that we have not (officially...) been vaccinated, and then all hell broke lose. The hematology professor found out about this, and then informed us that if we were not all vaccinated by the first lab, we would not be allowed into lab, and thus fail the lab, and thus *fail the entire course*. So---our entire medical school class being threatened with repeating a year due to vaccinations, the next day we send a sizable chunk of the class to the Ministry of Health (in the same building as the Ministry of the Interior).
The thing about going to any "Ministry" office in Israel is that there is the following Catch-22: they hate when you show up without an appointment, but they don't answer their phones so that you can MAKE an appointment. To give you an example: when we all need to go to the Ministry of the Interior to renew our Student Visas, they wouldn't even let us into the office TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT without an appointment (made over the phone). After our brains exploded over this paradox, a quick thinking med student pulled out his cell phone, called the number for the office, and pointed out to the security guard (who wouldn't let us in) that the phone was ringing, and---as usual---no one was picking it up. Finally confronted with this truth, he had no other option but to allow us into the office, where we promptly renewed our visas and went on our way.
So, knowing this to be the case, we were prepared for the worst. So we only sent ten students (note: I was note with them, so this part of the story is pretty much here-say. Do with it what you will). When they got there, the bureaucrat in charge of the office immediately sent seven of them away, saying she could only deal with three people, since she was booked the entire day. The three people who stayed apparently had to argue through the forms, and prove to this lady that they had already received almost all of the necessary vaccinations. Finally, she pointed out they needed to have a TB test---which would take a month. A month? Well, since we are "foreigners", we would actually need two TB tests (assuming the first one was is negative). (By the way, this law, along with lots of other very strange regulations for "foreign doctors" in Israel is due to the fact that most foreign doctors in Israel came from the former USSR---a place which produced a few very good doctors, and a lot of people who got their MD's at a special section in the supermarket...also, TB is somewhat endemic to Russian). Anyway, they were only there for about 30 minutes, at which point they noticed there was no one else there (thus, it was a complete bluff in sending the other students away), and the Ministry would not sign off on their vaccinations until they had proven their lack of TB.
The next day, some students went there just to make appointments, and they were sent away, being told that they shouldn't even come to the Ministry of Health without having first had a TB test. All the while, my entire class was still worried they might be expelled if this weren't done within a month (which was technically impossible due to the TB test's length of time). I finally went to the secretary of our program, told her what had happened at the Ministry of Health, and she promptly called them up and gave them a piece of her mind...Israeli style (i.e LOTS OF YELLING). An hour later, she came to our classroom with a sheet of paper with time slots for everyone in the class to sign up for, which would be reserved for us.
The moral of this story? You can only fight fire with fire. If you have a problem with an Israeli, then you need your own Israeli. I'm thinking of starting a business here for people from America (of which there are many) were you can just call us up, tell us your problem involving other Israelis, and we'll have an Israeli fix the problem for you....for a small fee. Maybe we'll even rent them out for our wealthier customers. Who needs medicine? This will be a big hit.
I better go get ready for Shabbat. I hope to start updating this blog more often now, so....you've got that going for you. I have a lot to say about the new Government here in Israel, but I should probably bite my tongue and at least give them a week or so before I start ranting. Just this for now: this government is like an All-Star team of Israeli Governments. A former Prime Minister....as Prime Minister. A former Prime Minister as Minister of Defense. A former Prime Minister as President. I could go on, but I won't. It's just going to be interesting to see Bibi butt heads with Barak (Obama, not Ehud). We'll see.
Shabbat Shalom everyone!
Michael
Actually, things aren't that crazy here anymore. My apartment this year is much better behaved, and my neighbors decidedly less crazy (though I did have a humorous episode with the little kids in the apartment across the courtyard from my office window, who started throwing rocks at my window.....and then my roommate pretended to steak up behind me w/ a knife and then fake stab me while the little kids were watching....anyway---they stopped throwing rocks). Classes have---honestly---been taking up much more of my time, and, unfortunately, the library is not that exciting of a place. Neither is my classroom. But, on the bright side, I'm slowly but surely becoming a doctor. Which is the real reason I'm here anyway.
Briefly, to bring everyone up to speed: I started my second semester of my second year about a month ago. I'm taking Specific Pathology, Pharmacology II, Hematology, ICM (Intro to Clinical Medicine), Biostatistics, Epidemiology, and Entrepreneurship in Medicine. That takes up about 90% of my waking life. I also play basketball on Monday nights and sometimes make it to frisbee on Thursdays. I usually spend a few hours a week speaking to various members of my family on the phone, and probably too much time chatting on gchat with friends.
This week, however, I was consumed with one of the most pressing issues I have had to deal with as Chief Representative of the Technion Medical School Class of 2011. No, I'm not referring to a question of ethics, or any sort of medical emergency. I'm talking about vaccinations. That's right. The dean of our program found out that we have not (officially...) been vaccinated, and then all hell broke lose. The hematology professor found out about this, and then informed us that if we were not all vaccinated by the first lab, we would not be allowed into lab, and thus fail the lab, and thus *fail the entire course*. So---our entire medical school class being threatened with repeating a year due to vaccinations, the next day we send a sizable chunk of the class to the Ministry of Health (in the same building as the Ministry of the Interior).
The thing about going to any "Ministry" office in Israel is that there is the following Catch-22: they hate when you show up without an appointment, but they don't answer their phones so that you can MAKE an appointment. To give you an example: when we all need to go to the Ministry of the Interior to renew our Student Visas, they wouldn't even let us into the office TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT without an appointment (made over the phone). After our brains exploded over this paradox, a quick thinking med student pulled out his cell phone, called the number for the office, and pointed out to the security guard (who wouldn't let us in) that the phone was ringing, and---as usual---no one was picking it up. Finally confronted with this truth, he had no other option but to allow us into the office, where we promptly renewed our visas and went on our way.
So, knowing this to be the case, we were prepared for the worst. So we only sent ten students (note: I was note with them, so this part of the story is pretty much here-say. Do with it what you will). When they got there, the bureaucrat in charge of the office immediately sent seven of them away, saying she could only deal with three people, since she was booked the entire day. The three people who stayed apparently had to argue through the forms, and prove to this lady that they had already received almost all of the necessary vaccinations. Finally, she pointed out they needed to have a TB test---which would take a month. A month? Well, since we are "foreigners", we would actually need two TB tests (assuming the first one was is negative). (By the way, this law, along with lots of other very strange regulations for "foreign doctors" in Israel is due to the fact that most foreign doctors in Israel came from the former USSR---a place which produced a few very good doctors, and a lot of people who got their MD's at a special section in the supermarket...also, TB is somewhat endemic to Russian). Anyway, they were only there for about 30 minutes, at which point they noticed there was no one else there (thus, it was a complete bluff in sending the other students away), and the Ministry would not sign off on their vaccinations until they had proven their lack of TB.
The next day, some students went there just to make appointments, and they were sent away, being told that they shouldn't even come to the Ministry of Health without having first had a TB test. All the while, my entire class was still worried they might be expelled if this weren't done within a month (which was technically impossible due to the TB test's length of time). I finally went to the secretary of our program, told her what had happened at the Ministry of Health, and she promptly called them up and gave them a piece of her mind...Israeli style (i.e LOTS OF YELLING). An hour later, she came to our classroom with a sheet of paper with time slots for everyone in the class to sign up for, which would be reserved for us.
The moral of this story? You can only fight fire with fire. If you have a problem with an Israeli, then you need your own Israeli. I'm thinking of starting a business here for people from America (of which there are many) were you can just call us up, tell us your problem involving other Israelis, and we'll have an Israeli fix the problem for you....for a small fee. Maybe we'll even rent them out for our wealthier customers. Who needs medicine? This will be a big hit.
I better go get ready for Shabbat. I hope to start updating this blog more often now, so....you've got that going for you. I have a lot to say about the new Government here in Israel, but I should probably bite my tongue and at least give them a week or so before I start ranting. Just this for now: this government is like an All-Star team of Israeli Governments. A former Prime Minister....as Prime Minister. A former Prime Minister as Minister of Defense. A former Prime Minister as President. I could go on, but I won't. It's just going to be interesting to see Bibi butt heads with Barak (Obama, not Ehud). We'll see.
Shabbat Shalom everyone!
Michael
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
....And, I'm Back!
Happy Sukkot everyone!
That's right. I'm back in Israel, and back to updating this blog with the amusing stories that continue to perpetuate themselves a year into my medical studies here.
To sum up my summer:
-2 days in NYC
-1.5 weeks in Indiana
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-1 week in Michigan
-3 days in NYC
-4 days in Montreal
-1 night in Toronto (Daniel Ostro's wedding)
-3 days in NYC
-4 days in Boston
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-4 days in Indiana
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-2 days in Boston
-5 days in NYC
-2 days (Rosh Hashana) in Connecticut
-1 night in NYC
-Back to Haifa.
Now that I write all of this out, I wonder how I managed all of that traveling without going completely insane. I do not remember sleeping in the same place more than a few nights in a row (at this point, I'd like to give a big thanks to David Walfisch and Jordan Rubinstein's couch, Robert Peach and Joey Abram's couch, Alex and Jason Borschow's couch, Eitan, Nezzy, and Igor's couch, Jason Ruchelsman's couch, The Abrams' guest bed, Susie Gruda's couch, Lily Rossebo's couch, Brett Star's couch, Brett Star's bed [Indianapolis], MIT AEPi's couch, The Kaufman-Gulko's guest bed, Sam Raymond's couch, and Columbia University's East Campus Suite 1212's air mattress for being such comfortable sites to sleep at this summer. I also extend my thanks to the owners of these couches, beds, and air mattresses for welcoming into their homes/apartments/fraternity/suite. If I've left anyone out, I'm terribly sorry, and certainly do not mean any offense by it).
To add a brief reflection of this summer: I had a blast, and while there were times I felt it was dragging on, now that I am back in Israel, I already miss everyone, especially my family.
While I already have some great stories to share, I feel obligated to update all of my faithful and patient readers on changes that have occurred to my basic living situation here in Israel: I moved apartments. Yes, that's right: I left the ornery dude, the entertaining Russian neighbors, and the majestic Mediterranean views behind. It was not out of choice, but out of obligation: my landlord, always one to get the final laugh, sold the apartment, and the new owners wanted to actually live in it. Luckily, I was able to move into an apartment two blocks away with a third-year medical student named Jhon Faro. So far, it has been working out for me. And....I'm only a block away from the sea, so I cannot complain too much.
Since being back, I have been organizing my apartment, hanging out with my friends in Haifa, and celebrating Yom Kippur and (now) Sukkot. Also, I have managed to travel to Jerusalem on the days leading up to Yom Kippur, which was actually quite an adventure. It all started out when I jumped on the train to Tel Aviv, and switched over to the 970 bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. While waiting in line (well...."line" is being very liberal...it was the usual free-for-all with Chassidic Jews, old Israeli Grandmothers, and soldiers elbowing me in the face to get a spot on the bus), I was stopped by an old friend from Indianapolis, Sam Hasten. Not only was this a crazy place to run into him, but a crazy time: he is getting married in a few weeks, and had been trying to get a hold of me anyway to invite me! So, I've got another wedding to go to (the first one being...his cousin's).
After arriving in Jerusalem, I walked over to my favorite bookshop to sell some books and pick up a few new ones, then wandered around Me'ah She'arim and Geulah, where I picked up some other books, as well as a lulav (palm frond, willow branch, and myrtle branch) and etrog (citron) [the combination of these four "species" are called the "Arbah Meenim," which are traditionally bought for the holiday of Sukkot, and are symbolic of many, many ideas and concepts, though the symbolism that resonates most with me is that they represent the four different "kinds" of Jews, and in bringing them together on Sukkot, we are expressing our hope of Jewish unity in the coming year]. I then went to go meet up with my friend Matt Cons, who is going to be doing his Masters at the Technion this year, though is currently doing Ulpan in Jerusalem, and when I found out that he had never been to Tmol Shilshom, I took him there right away (I was also a bit hungry, so it worked out for both of us).
Since I was carrying all of my new books and my lulav and etrog (which are quite bulky), we decided to drop them off at Matt Cons' apartment in the Nachloat neighborhood. On our way to his house, we noticed a few people ducking into a side alley in the Machane Yehuda Shuk, and we decided to investigate where these people were going at 10 pm in the market, since it appeared to be mostly closed at this point. In doing so, we stumbled into a medium-sized courtyard full of people...and chickens. Since this was the night before Yom Kippur, these people were performing Kapparot, the ancient tradition that consists of saying a Psalm, swinging a chicken above your head, having the chicken ritually slaughtered, and then donating the chicken to charity. The mystical tradition is that, in swinging the chicken over your head, the chicken takes up your sins, and then subsequently is slaughtered to atone for these same sins. Many Rabbis (including the Rambam) have spoken out against this practice, noting chiefly that it smacks of pagan traditions. However, other Rabbis disagreed, arguing that the tradition could help one focus his thoughts on his wrongdoings in the past year, as well as reflect on one's own mortality (in seeing the chicken die), also noting that charity is good for repentance. Thus, Kapparot is still carried out in more religious neighborhoods throughout the world.
Having now performed Kaparot, I'm going to have to go with the Rambam on this one: the whole thing made me feel slightly uncomfortable (though that could have also been the terrible smell of hundreds of chickens). Also, when I told my mother I had performed Kapparot, she made me feel guiltier than I had felt before the (supposedly repentant) ceremony.
After this, we got back to Matt Cons' apartment, I put my stuff down, and we asked his roommate for recommendations for a good local bar. She recommended a place call "Slow Moshe" (it's funny if you say it out loud, which was good enough for me). We wandered around the labyrinthian streets of Nachlaot, unable to find this bar with the slightly-funny name. We came to the Eastern-most edge of the neighborhood (actually right by my favorite bookstore), and we noticed a huge crowd outside a seemingly nondescript bar. A crowd outside a bar might be a normal sight in NYC or even Tel Aviv, but it just doesn't really happen in the Holy City of Jerusalem. As we approached the bar, I expressed my surprise that there was such a crowd, especially since there wasn't even a band playing, since we could hear what sounded like Matisyahu's latest CD being played. Except, as we got closer, we realized it wasn't a CD, but Matisyahu himself, who had apparently shown up at the bar with his guitarist and just decided to play; since the bar had large windows that they had opened, many people who were too late to fit into the small bar had congregated outside the bar to listen to the spontaneous concert.
Now, this would have been remarkable enough to tell about, but something even crazier happened. Now, I know what you are thinking: what could POSSIBLY be crazier than seeing Matisyahu in concert in a tiny bar in Jerusalem? Well, I know it will be hard to believe (especially those of you who have spent some time in Boston, and have partaken of the El Dorado of Israeli food that is Rami's), but I saw.....CHAIM COHEN, aka The Rami's Guy! That's right! I saw Chaim Cohen, the son of Rami Cohen, who runs the only kosher Israeli restaurant in Boston. And not only did I see him, but we hung out and talked for a bit. If only I had a camera to have taken a picture to prove that such a meeting took place. I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it. It happened.
After that, Matt Cons and I met up with some other Boston students we saw at the impromptu Matisyahu concert and went to a cool little bar off of Kikar Zion for a few drinks. We then went back to Matt Cons' apartment, and watched part of the Presidential Debate, which promptly put both of us to sleep.
So that's all I've got for now. I hope everyone is having a *very* happy Sukkot (one of the Torah's names for Sukkot is "Zman Simchateinu" or "The Time of Our Happiness"). If you have the time, I recommend finding a Sukkah to sit in, and a lulav and etrog to swing around. And be happy!!!
Joyfully,
Michael
That's right. I'm back in Israel, and back to updating this blog with the amusing stories that continue to perpetuate themselves a year into my medical studies here.
To sum up my summer:
-2 days in NYC
-1.5 weeks in Indiana
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-1 week in Michigan
-3 days in NYC
-4 days in Montreal
-1 night in Toronto (Daniel Ostro's wedding)
-3 days in NYC
-4 days in Boston
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-4 days in Indiana
-1.5 weeks in NYC
-2 days in Boston
-5 days in NYC
-2 days (Rosh Hashana) in Connecticut
-1 night in NYC
-Back to Haifa.
Now that I write all of this out, I wonder how I managed all of that traveling without going completely insane. I do not remember sleeping in the same place more than a few nights in a row (at this point, I'd like to give a big thanks to David Walfisch and Jordan Rubinstein's couch, Robert Peach and Joey Abram's couch, Alex and Jason Borschow's couch, Eitan, Nezzy, and Igor's couch, Jason Ruchelsman's couch, The Abrams' guest bed, Susie Gruda's couch, Lily Rossebo's couch, Brett Star's couch, Brett Star's bed [Indianapolis], MIT AEPi's couch, The Kaufman-Gulko's guest bed, Sam Raymond's couch, and Columbia University's East Campus Suite 1212's air mattress for being such comfortable sites to sleep at this summer. I also extend my thanks to the owners of these couches, beds, and air mattresses for welcoming into their homes/apartments/fraternity/suite. If I've left anyone out, I'm terribly sorry, and certainly do not mean any offense by it).
To add a brief reflection of this summer: I had a blast, and while there were times I felt it was dragging on, now that I am back in Israel, I already miss everyone, especially my family.
While I already have some great stories to share, I feel obligated to update all of my faithful and patient readers on changes that have occurred to my basic living situation here in Israel: I moved apartments. Yes, that's right: I left the ornery dude, the entertaining Russian neighbors, and the majestic Mediterranean views behind. It was not out of choice, but out of obligation: my landlord, always one to get the final laugh, sold the apartment, and the new owners wanted to actually live in it. Luckily, I was able to move into an apartment two blocks away with a third-year medical student named Jhon Faro. So far, it has been working out for me. And....I'm only a block away from the sea, so I cannot complain too much.
Since being back, I have been organizing my apartment, hanging out with my friends in Haifa, and celebrating Yom Kippur and (now) Sukkot. Also, I have managed to travel to Jerusalem on the days leading up to Yom Kippur, which was actually quite an adventure. It all started out when I jumped on the train to Tel Aviv, and switched over to the 970 bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. While waiting in line (well...."line" is being very liberal...it was the usual free-for-all with Chassidic Jews, old Israeli Grandmothers, and soldiers elbowing me in the face to get a spot on the bus), I was stopped by an old friend from Indianapolis, Sam Hasten. Not only was this a crazy place to run into him, but a crazy time: he is getting married in a few weeks, and had been trying to get a hold of me anyway to invite me! So, I've got another wedding to go to (the first one being...his cousin's).
After arriving in Jerusalem, I walked over to my favorite bookshop to sell some books and pick up a few new ones, then wandered around Me'ah She'arim and Geulah, where I picked up some other books, as well as a lulav (palm frond, willow branch, and myrtle branch) and etrog (citron) [the combination of these four "species" are called the "Arbah Meenim," which are traditionally bought for the holiday of Sukkot, and are symbolic of many, many ideas and concepts, though the symbolism that resonates most with me is that they represent the four different "kinds" of Jews, and in bringing them together on Sukkot, we are expressing our hope of Jewish unity in the coming year]. I then went to go meet up with my friend Matt Cons, who is going to be doing his Masters at the Technion this year, though is currently doing Ulpan in Jerusalem, and when I found out that he had never been to Tmol Shilshom, I took him there right away (I was also a bit hungry, so it worked out for both of us).
Since I was carrying all of my new books and my lulav and etrog (which are quite bulky), we decided to drop them off at Matt Cons' apartment in the Nachloat neighborhood. On our way to his house, we noticed a few people ducking into a side alley in the Machane Yehuda Shuk, and we decided to investigate where these people were going at 10 pm in the market, since it appeared to be mostly closed at this point. In doing so, we stumbled into a medium-sized courtyard full of people...and chickens. Since this was the night before Yom Kippur, these people were performing Kapparot, the ancient tradition that consists of saying a Psalm, swinging a chicken above your head, having the chicken ritually slaughtered, and then donating the chicken to charity. The mystical tradition is that, in swinging the chicken over your head, the chicken takes up your sins, and then subsequently is slaughtered to atone for these same sins. Many Rabbis (including the Rambam) have spoken out against this practice, noting chiefly that it smacks of pagan traditions. However, other Rabbis disagreed, arguing that the tradition could help one focus his thoughts on his wrongdoings in the past year, as well as reflect on one's own mortality (in seeing the chicken die), also noting that charity is good for repentance. Thus, Kapparot is still carried out in more religious neighborhoods throughout the world.
Me questioning my own, and the chicken's, mortality (10/7/08).
Having now performed Kaparot, I'm going to have to go with the Rambam on this one: the whole thing made me feel slightly uncomfortable (though that could have also been the terrible smell of hundreds of chickens). Also, when I told my mother I had performed Kapparot, she made me feel guiltier than I had felt before the (supposedly repentant) ceremony.
After this, we got back to Matt Cons' apartment, I put my stuff down, and we asked his roommate for recommendations for a good local bar. She recommended a place call "Slow Moshe" (it's funny if you say it out loud, which was good enough for me). We wandered around the labyrinthian streets of Nachlaot, unable to find this bar with the slightly-funny name. We came to the Eastern-most edge of the neighborhood (actually right by my favorite bookstore), and we noticed a huge crowd outside a seemingly nondescript bar. A crowd outside a bar might be a normal sight in NYC or even Tel Aviv, but it just doesn't really happen in the Holy City of Jerusalem. As we approached the bar, I expressed my surprise that there was such a crowd, especially since there wasn't even a band playing, since we could hear what sounded like Matisyahu's latest CD being played. Except, as we got closer, we realized it wasn't a CD, but Matisyahu himself, who had apparently shown up at the bar with his guitarist and just decided to play; since the bar had large windows that they had opened, many people who were too late to fit into the small bar had congregated outside the bar to listen to the spontaneous concert.
Now, this would have been remarkable enough to tell about, but something even crazier happened. Now, I know what you are thinking: what could POSSIBLY be crazier than seeing Matisyahu in concert in a tiny bar in Jerusalem? Well, I know it will be hard to believe (especially those of you who have spent some time in Boston, and have partaken of the El Dorado of Israeli food that is Rami's), but I saw.....CHAIM COHEN, aka The Rami's Guy! That's right! I saw Chaim Cohen, the son of Rami Cohen, who runs the only kosher Israeli restaurant in Boston. And not only did I see him, but we hung out and talked for a bit. If only I had a camera to have taken a picture to prove that such a meeting took place. I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it. It happened.
After that, Matt Cons and I met up with some other Boston students we saw at the impromptu Matisyahu concert and went to a cool little bar off of Kikar Zion for a few drinks. We then went back to Matt Cons' apartment, and watched part of the Presidential Debate, which promptly put both of us to sleep.
So that's all I've got for now. I hope everyone is having a *very* happy Sukkot (one of the Torah's names for Sukkot is "Zman Simchateinu" or "The Time of Our Happiness"). If you have the time, I recommend finding a Sukkah to sit in, and a lulav and etrog to swing around. And be happy!!!
Joyfully,
Michael
Friday, April 25, 2008
I think I'm turning Is-rael-i, I think I'm turning Is-rael-i, I Really Think So
Being here in Israel for the past eight months has had its many ups and downs. The schwarma is good, but the ketchup is bad. The weather has been good, but constantly fighting cab drivers has been bad. And so on.
But one unknown consequence of being in Israel has begun to rear its ugly head, and now I live in constant fear of it. It's worse than the bureaucracy, it's worse than security lines, and it's worse than the way every Israeli stares you down wherever you go (even staring at you from a neighboring car).
What could possibly be worse than all of this? What keeps me up at night, with a cold sweat, worrying that it could strike at anytime. No---I'm not talking about a fear of terrorism, or a fear of cancer or some infectious disease. I'm talking about a fear of becoming Israeli.
What are the symptoms of becoming Israeli, you might ask? They affect all aspects of life, from the way you do your hair (lots of gel), the clothes you wear (t-shirts with nonsense English phrases on it, tight pants, tight shirts, et al), to what you eat ("Israeli salad" which has only cucumbers, tomatoes, and some lemon juice).
More importantly, it changes the way you interact with people. Being from Indiana, I was raised with something we like to call "manners," which includes being "polite" and some level of "patience" with people. All of these ideas are foreign to the Israeli psyche.
I bring this up, because I have started finding myself taking on more and more of these Israeli mannerisms. This first dawned on me when I initially started writing this post (about 4 weeks ago), after an incident that occurred in Tel Aviv. To sum it up (and not embarrass my Midwest-Polite roots)---as I was waiting in line with some friends to board the Tel Aviv to Jerusalem bus at Arlosozoff, I this kid in front of me was trying to get on the bus with a HUGE piece of luggage. Now, I probably wouldn't have said anything in normal circumstances, but the bus was already almost full, and it was clear to me that, if he actually tried to get on the bus, one of the following things would happen:
a) The gigantic bag would take up its own seat, not allowing some other poor passenger to sit down
b) The kid would dump the piece of luggage in the aisle, making it impossible for people to get down the aisle without jumping over it
c) After trying these things, and realizing it isn't working, he would be forced to haul the large luggage off the bus to put it in the under-the-bus compartment where most (normal) people were putting their luggage.
So. Instead of just ignoring this issue, and letting this kid be, I tapped him on the shoulder, and told him to put his bag under the bus. When he tried to ignore me, I started yelling at him for being unreasonable. Naturally, his mother starts yelling at me, and the bus driver starts yelling at all of us. He finally says, "What are you all yelling about." And I told him. And he says to the kid, "Yallah. Put your bag under the bus." Like a true Israeli, I felt vindicated.
Only after getting to my seat, and reflecting on the events that had just transpired, did I look down at my hands, and feel the need to run off the bus, screaming, "Oh L-rd, WHAT HAVE I BECOME?" The question, of course, would have been rhetorical.
Since then, I've noticed that I've been progressively buttoning less and less buttons on my shirts, that I speak in one-word commands as opposed to full sentences ("Yallah", "Sababa", "Nu?", "Ahhlan", "B-seder-gamoor", etc.), that I wear too much cologne (well, Sam Kesner might point out that this was a trait of mine before coming to Israel...he wouldn't be completely wrong), my diet almost completely consists of pita stuffed with some greasy products (i.e. schwarma or falafel), I haggle over EVERY thing (right down to the price of milk at the grocery store), and, as already noted, I will argue with any stranger over any issue at the drop of a hat.
What can be done to fight off this disease? Does anyone know of any cures? Or will I eventually have to accept the fact that I will be come a full-fledged, tight-shirt wearing, chain smoking, Israeli?
-----------
In other news, since last post, I have had a great Shabbaton at my house ("ShabBat Galim"), in which we were able to fit about 15 people into my apartment for the weekend. I attended at Haredi Bar Mitzvah (that of Itamar Edelstien, the son of a middle school teacher of mine), I've taken a final (that made me miss the Israeli 60th Birthday Celebrations), and I saw Nathan Englander, Jonathan Sanfran Foer, and Etgar Keret (famous Jewish-American and Israeli writers) speak in Jerusalem. I will probably post more about these events in the future. But for now. Back to the medical school grind.
Best,
Michael
But one unknown consequence of being in Israel has begun to rear its ugly head, and now I live in constant fear of it. It's worse than the bureaucracy, it's worse than security lines, and it's worse than the way every Israeli stares you down wherever you go (even staring at you from a neighboring car).
What could possibly be worse than all of this? What keeps me up at night, with a cold sweat, worrying that it could strike at anytime. No---I'm not talking about a fear of terrorism, or a fear of cancer or some infectious disease. I'm talking about a fear of becoming Israeli.
What are the symptoms of becoming Israeli, you might ask? They affect all aspects of life, from the way you do your hair (lots of gel), the clothes you wear (t-shirts with nonsense English phrases on it, tight pants, tight shirts, et al), to what you eat ("Israeli salad" which has only cucumbers, tomatoes, and some lemon juice).
More importantly, it changes the way you interact with people. Being from Indiana, I was raised with something we like to call "manners," which includes being "polite" and some level of "patience" with people. All of these ideas are foreign to the Israeli psyche.
I bring this up, because I have started finding myself taking on more and more of these Israeli mannerisms. This first dawned on me when I initially started writing this post (about 4 weeks ago), after an incident that occurred in Tel Aviv. To sum it up (and not embarrass my Midwest-Polite roots)---as I was waiting in line with some friends to board the Tel Aviv to Jerusalem bus at Arlosozoff, I this kid in front of me was trying to get on the bus with a HUGE piece of luggage. Now, I probably wouldn't have said anything in normal circumstances, but the bus was already almost full, and it was clear to me that, if he actually tried to get on the bus, one of the following things would happen:
a) The gigantic bag would take up its own seat, not allowing some other poor passenger to sit down
b) The kid would dump the piece of luggage in the aisle, making it impossible for people to get down the aisle without jumping over it
c) After trying these things, and realizing it isn't working, he would be forced to haul the large luggage off the bus to put it in the under-the-bus compartment where most (normal) people were putting their luggage.
So. Instead of just ignoring this issue, and letting this kid be, I tapped him on the shoulder, and told him to put his bag under the bus. When he tried to ignore me, I started yelling at him for being unreasonable. Naturally, his mother starts yelling at me, and the bus driver starts yelling at all of us. He finally says, "What are you all yelling about." And I told him. And he says to the kid, "Yallah. Put your bag under the bus." Like a true Israeli, I felt vindicated.
Only after getting to my seat, and reflecting on the events that had just transpired, did I look down at my hands, and feel the need to run off the bus, screaming, "Oh L-rd, WHAT HAVE I BECOME?" The question, of course, would have been rhetorical.
Since then, I've noticed that I've been progressively buttoning less and less buttons on my shirts, that I speak in one-word commands as opposed to full sentences ("Yallah", "Sababa", "Nu?", "Ahhlan", "B-seder-gamoor", etc.), that I wear too much cologne (well, Sam Kesner might point out that this was a trait of mine before coming to Israel...he wouldn't be completely wrong), my diet almost completely consists of pita stuffed with some greasy products (i.e. schwarma or falafel), I haggle over EVERY thing (right down to the price of milk at the grocery store), and, as already noted, I will argue with any stranger over any issue at the drop of a hat.
What can be done to fight off this disease? Does anyone know of any cures? Or will I eventually have to accept the fact that I will be come a full-fledged, tight-shirt wearing, chain smoking, Israeli?
-----------
In other news, since last post, I have had a great Shabbaton at my house ("ShabBat Galim"), in which we were able to fit about 15 people into my apartment for the weekend. I attended at Haredi Bar Mitzvah (that of Itamar Edelstien, the son of a middle school teacher of mine), I've taken a final (that made me miss the Israeli 60th Birthday Celebrations), and I saw Nathan Englander, Jonathan Sanfran Foer, and Etgar Keret (famous Jewish-American and Israeli writers) speak in Jerusalem. I will probably post more about these events in the future. But for now. Back to the medical school grind.
Best,
Michael
Monday, April 07, 2008
Apologies
Sorry about the false-start on the "DIB Moment of the Day." I guess I was being very optimistic about how interesting life here in Israel really is. I am going to have to renege on this promise, and instead go back to my old format, of just informing you of the funny things that happen as they come along.
In a short update on things here, I should note that I spend most of my time in the medical school library, so I don't have much to tell. Well. In fact, the Dude saga continues, as it turns out that the guys who installed my new dude ALSO broke into my apartments safe. This left me in a strange position, as I keep absolutely nothing in that safe, and I could find nothing missing in my apartment, so I could just imagine trying to call this one into the police:
"Allo. Mishtarat Haifa."
"[In terrible American-accented Hebrew. To add effect, I'll just translate what it would sound like in English] Hello. The persons who were to installing a new dude at the attic of the apartment of mine also wants to stealing from the safe."
"They broke into your safe?"
"Yes. They did this."
"And what did they take?"
"They taking nothing. I am keeping nothing in the safe."
"***********Dial tone**************"
"Hello? Hello?"
Anyway, I finally called up my landlord's grandmother (who takes care of things in my landlord's absence), and informed her both that the new dude doesn't really work (it takes 6 hours to get water that could generously be described as luke-warm), and that they tried to break into my safe. At first, she didn't think she heard me correctly, but when we finally understood each other, she informed me that this was not possible, as her husband had been present the entire time.
I wouldn't hold your breath to find out how this one ends. I just hope she doesn't hire the same team to fix my (new) dude.
Anyway, the new adventure starting now for me (along with this entire country) is one of the most dreaded and hated of Israel's national pastimes: when the entire country attempts to clean their houses leading up to Passover. Maybe I'll take some "before" and "after" pictures.
Anyway, off to study for a biochemistry quiz. As always, it's great to hear from everyone.
"Leads? Yeah, sure. I'll just...check in with the boys down at the crime lab....They've got four more detectives working on the case.....They got us working in shifts! Leads!" ---Big Lebowski
Michael
In a short update on things here, I should note that I spend most of my time in the medical school library, so I don't have much to tell. Well. In fact, the Dude saga continues, as it turns out that the guys who installed my new dude ALSO broke into my apartments safe. This left me in a strange position, as I keep absolutely nothing in that safe, and I could find nothing missing in my apartment, so I could just imagine trying to call this one into the police:
"Allo. Mishtarat Haifa."
"[In terrible American-accented Hebrew. To add effect, I'll just translate what it would sound like in English] Hello. The persons who were to installing a new dude at the attic of the apartment of mine also wants to stealing from the safe."
"They broke into your safe?"
"Yes. They did this."
"And what did they take?"
"They taking nothing. I am keeping nothing in the safe."
"***********Dial tone**************"
"Hello? Hello?"
Anyway, I finally called up my landlord's grandmother (who takes care of things in my landlord's absence), and informed her both that the new dude doesn't really work (it takes 6 hours to get water that could generously be described as luke-warm), and that they tried to break into my safe. At first, she didn't think she heard me correctly, but when we finally understood each other, she informed me that this was not possible, as her husband had been present the entire time.
I wouldn't hold your breath to find out how this one ends. I just hope she doesn't hire the same team to fix my (new) dude.
Anyway, the new adventure starting now for me (along with this entire country) is one of the most dreaded and hated of Israel's national pastimes: when the entire country attempts to clean their houses leading up to Passover. Maybe I'll take some "before" and "after" pictures.
Anyway, off to study for a biochemistry quiz. As always, it's great to hear from everyone.
"Leads? Yeah, sure. I'll just...check in with the boys down at the crime lab....They've got four more detectives working on the case.....They got us working in shifts! Leads!" ---Big Lebowski
Michael
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
DIB-Moment of the Day (26/2/08)
"We cannot install your Dude-Shemesh (Solar-Powered Boiler). We tried to, but the owner of the building saw that we were trying to install it, and he came with the police, and his papers proving that he owns the roof of your building, and told us we can not put a Dude-Shemesh on his roof"
"Is there a reason? Is there anything else on the roof?"
"No."
Kol Tuv,
Michael
"Is there a reason? Is there anything else on the roof?"
"No."
Kol Tuv,
Michael
Monday, March 24, 2008
New Idea
If anyone is still reading this blog, I realized that it must be pretty boring, considering I only seem to update it about once a month with some boring stories about my water heater.
So I just had the idea that I would try to post something EVERY DAY. That's right. You heard me. EVERY DAY. And not just anything...
I decided I will post the funniest, silliest, most Israeli thing I have seen/heard/done that day. I will call it the "DIB-Moment of the Day." (To those of you that don't know what "DIB" means, go here; it is the fifth on the list). To those of you unfortunate enough to know the true "DIB" essence, I must admit that this daily post may at times (and even often) deviate from true DIBishness, but I just thought the name was funny.
Anyway, without further ado, I give you 24/3/08's DIB-Moment of the Day:
"I talked to the janitor about putting more liquid soap in the bathroom, since it's been out for the past week. He told me he won't do it, because the construction workers from upstairs are stealing it."
byebye,
Michael
So I just had the idea that I would try to post something EVERY DAY. That's right. You heard me. EVERY DAY. And not just anything...
I decided I will post the funniest, silliest, most Israeli thing I have seen/heard/done that day. I will call it the "DIB-Moment of the Day." (To those of you that don't know what "DIB" means, go here; it is the fifth on the list). To those of you unfortunate enough to know the true "DIB" essence, I must admit that this daily post may at times (and even often) deviate from true DIBishness, but I just thought the name was funny.
Anyway, without further ado, I give you 24/3/08's DIB-Moment of the Day:
"I talked to the janitor about putting more liquid soap in the bathroom, since it's been out for the past week. He told me he won't do it, because the construction workers from upstairs are stealing it."
byebye,
Michael
Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Dude, Z"L
In Memoriam:
At 7:55 AM this morning, March 23rd, 2008, my dude, the bearer of my hot water, the heart and soul of the plumbing system at Shikmona 1/3, was pronounced dead by officials from "Home Center." [In their exact words, "Ken. HaDude holech." or "Yes, the Dude is gone."]
Having served this residence for at least the past 7 months, and probably decades before, the dude was a vital part of my life. He not only provided me with my daily bathing, but also helped ease the pain of washing dishes, and made boiling water easier when I would fill the pot with hot water from the dude before putting it on the flame.
"
The Dude's burial is slated for tomorrow. Though he will be replaced (hopefully) with a sleeker, more environmentally friendly model (a "dude shemesh" or "solar dude"), it will never be fully replaced in my heart.
Condolence calls can be made at Shikmona 1/3 between 10-11 PM, and donations can be made to the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers."
Below is an excerpt from his eulogy earlier today.
Good night, sweet prince.
-----------------------------
"The dude was a good dude. He was one of us. He was a dude who loved the outdoors... and bowling, and as a surfer he explored the beaches of Bat Galim, from the Navy Beach to the Church Beach and... up to... Hof HaCarmel. He died, like so many young men of his generation, he died before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you took so many bright flowering young dudes at Tzefat, at Chinese Farm, at Hill 18..."
At 7:55 AM this morning, March 23rd, 2008, my dude, the bearer of my hot water, the heart and soul of the plumbing system at Shikmona 1/3, was pronounced dead by officials from "Home Center." [In their exact words, "Ken. HaDude holech." or "Yes, the Dude is gone."]
Having served this residence for at least the past 7 months, and probably decades before, the dude was a vital part of my life. He not only provided me with my daily bathing, but also helped ease the pain of washing dishes, and made boiling water easier when I would fill the pot with hot water from the dude before putting it on the flame.
"
The Dude's burial is slated for tomorrow. Though he will be replaced (hopefully) with a sleeker, more environmentally friendly model (a "dude shemesh" or "solar dude"), it will never be fully replaced in my heart.
Condolence calls can be made at Shikmona 1/3 between 10-11 PM, and donations can be made to the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers."
Below is an excerpt from his eulogy earlier today.
Good night, sweet prince.
-----------------------------
"The dude was a good dude. He was one of us. He was a dude who loved the outdoors... and bowling, and as a surfer he explored the beaches of Bat Galim, from the Navy Beach to the Church Beach and... up to... Hof HaCarmel. He died, like so many young men of his generation, he died before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him, as you took so many bright flowering young dudes at Tzefat, at Chinese Farm, at Hill 18..."
Friday, March 14, 2008
Not-Very-Interesting-Post
I guess I would call it that because, unlike last week, this week has been nearly completely without the normal weird occurrences that seem to follow me around Israel like a particularly weird dark cloud. Maybe I'll throw in some of my filler "political commentary," or, maybe I will not subject you to such torture.
I guess this week has been so uneventful because I spent much of it safely inside the confines of the library of the Bruce Rappaport Faculty of Medicine. As I am med student, I guess this should be the norm, yet I think the reason I mention it here is because I may have gone a bit overboard this week, and spent a bit too much time there. I think I need a hobby of some sorts to drag me out sometimes.
Actually, I'm going to go now. I guess this post really lived up to its name. I'll try to make the next one worth reading.
Sorry,
Michael
I guess this week has been so uneventful because I spent much of it safely inside the confines of the library of the Bruce Rappaport Faculty of Medicine. As I am med student, I guess this should be the norm, yet I think the reason I mention it here is because I may have gone a bit overboard this week, and spent a bit too much time there. I think I need a hobby of some sorts to drag me out sometimes.
Actually, I'm going to go now. I guess this post really lived up to its name. I'll try to make the next one worth reading.
Sorry,
Michael
Friday, March 07, 2008
Strange Week
For those of you who I haven't regaled with my Twilight-Zone-worthy week, I will put a short summary of the weird things that have happened to me since last Sunday.
Starting on Sunday afternoon, I found myself at "Kanyon Haifa" (the Haifa mall), looking to change some (nearly worthless) dollars into (Monopoly money) Shekels. Finding that the rate had dipped too low for me to in good conscious change money, I retreated over to the Supersol (grocery store) to buy some groceries. After stocking up on the necessities (hummuous, pita, schug (Middle Eastern chili sauce), frozen pizza), I went on a quest to find some packaged gnocchi that I had previously eaten that had been quite good. Joining me in this search was Daniel Ostro, a fellow med student who had the bad fortune of being born in Canada.
After about 15 minutes of our search, we finally found the small Italian section of the Supersol, which included the sought-after gnocchi. While comparing the various brands the Supersol had to offer, a short, funny lady approached us and starting asking about the relative merits of...gnocchi. "Is that any good?" she asked (in Hebrew, of course). "Definitely. It's very tasty," I responded. What followed was a five minute conversation about how she had heard that gnocchi was good, but never tried it, and was excited to find someone who backed up the claim that it was good, even though that someone was some random guy (me) at the Supersol in Kanyon Haifa. After this small talk, as she was walking away, Danial turned to me and asked me something in English.
"Wait---are you two from outside of Israel?" she asked (the term she used was "Chool", which is an acronymn all Israelis use for countries that are not Israel, meaning "outside of the land"). I replied that, yes, we were both from the States. Daniel, looking somewhat insulted, butted in that he was not, in fact, from the states, but from Canada. As if it mattered.
She then went on to tell us that she had been to Boston for work. I told her I was in Boston for University, but that I was actually for Indiana. We were starting to part ways, when she started saying something about how she also had family in Boston: the Suissa Family.
I stared at her for a second, a bit weirded out by the comment, and asked her if she knew Paz Suissa. "Paz Suissa! That is my niece!" she screamed. Now, it should come to no one as a revelation that Jewish people LOVE playing "Jewish Geography"---the game where we find out if you know the people that I know from a certain place. Why we, as a People, enjoy this game so much is somewhat obvious: the feeling of discovering that the world is full of connections we are not aware of, and that it is much smaller than we sometimes think it is is somewhat satisfying. Either way, it may surprise some people to know that Israelis, more than other Jewish people, have an almost perverse pleasure in this game, and Paz's aunt (Vivian?) was no exception. She nearly acted as if she had just discovered a long lost brother in me.
"Paz Suissa dated my brother," I explained to her. "To tell the truth, I don't think they are dating any longer." This didn't really seem to faze her. She insisted that I write down my name, my brother's name, and my phone number (to come over to her house for some future meal, which she promised, looking at my Kippah, would be kosher).
So much for crazy story number one.
The next day, after hours of toiling away at my physiology textbook in the library, I emerged from the "Faculta" (the strange word they use for the med school building) around 8 pm to go my weekly basketball game at the Technion main campus. As I was leaving the building, about 50 yards away I saw a couple walking towards the Meyer Children's Hospital that is next door to the medical school. Something about them---I'm really not sure what---reminded me of my 8th Grade teacher and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Edelstien. I called out his name ("Mr. Edelstien!"), and he spun around to find out who it was that was calling his name.
I'm not sure if he was more surprised to find me studying in Haifa, or that I was able to recognize him from so far away. Either way, him and his wife then went on a tirade, chastising me for not getting in contact with them sooner. I apologized profusely, and they invited me over for Shabbat (where I will be going to shortly).
That's crazy story number 2.
The third strange occurrence this week was at a party celebrating the release of my friend and former next-door-neighbor (in Indiana), Danny Farahan (ben David, as he now adds), from the Israeli Army. Having done 2.5 years of service in the IDF, he is now planning on doing some traveling, including hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Either way, as we met up at Mike's Place in Tel Aviv, I was sitting talking to his former roommates from Hebrew University, when they asked me what I was doing in Israel. "Oh, I'm studying medicine at the Technion." "Really? Hey, Ben, don't we know someone who is studying medicine at the Technion?" "Hey---isn't Sherman there?"
"Do you mean Michael Sherman?" I asked. "YEAH! Hey---do you know Sherman?" "Yes, I know Sherman. He's my roommate. How do you guys know him?" "No F**King way! Michael Sherman was OUR roommate at Hebrew University four years ago.....Hey Danny, guess who Michael here is living with?" "Who?" "Michael Sherman!"
So it ends up that Michael Sherman has lived with both me and Danny Farahan, and never made the connection. When I asked him about it, he looked confused and said, "Wait---Danny Farahan is from Indiana?"
So, yeah, this week has been pretty crazy. There's also been some studying of medicine in there as well. Classes are actually going pretty well so far. I'm taking Physiology, Histology, Endocrinology, Anatomy II, Biochemistry II, First Aid, Genetics, and Hebrew this term. It's going to be a tough semester, but I am enjoying the classes. Also, last night I attended Shmuel (Sam) Korb's second (and hopefully final) Tekes (or graduation) from his Officer's Course on the Navy Base. (Picture of me, Shmuel, and two of the Gershons, after the Tekes):
Unfortunately, this week has ended with the terrorist attack on the Merkaz HaRav Kook Yeshiva in Jerusalem---G-d should console all of the families of those who lost sons, grandsons, and brothers under the gates of Zion and Jerusalem. My angry response below was (clearly) a bit emotional, but I stand by it. My only correction to it is the claim that horrible events like these bring the Jewish people closer together. Unfortunately, I feel that an event such as this one---targeting the sector of the population that already feels that too much security has been compromised in the name of a delusional peace process---will only lead to further harmed relations between the various sectors of the Israeli Jewish population.
I also realize that I haven't really written since my trip to the States. I want to thank everyone who came to my parties (in Indianapolis and NYC). It was great to see everyone, and I hope to be back soon to visit.
I need to go get ready for Shabbat. I wish everyone a Shabbat Shalom.
Michael
Starting on Sunday afternoon, I found myself at "Kanyon Haifa" (the Haifa mall), looking to change some (nearly worthless) dollars into (Monopoly money) Shekels. Finding that the rate had dipped too low for me to in good conscious change money, I retreated over to the Supersol (grocery store) to buy some groceries. After stocking up on the necessities (hummuous, pita, schug (Middle Eastern chili sauce), frozen pizza), I went on a quest to find some packaged gnocchi that I had previously eaten that had been quite good. Joining me in this search was Daniel Ostro, a fellow med student who had the bad fortune of being born in Canada.
After about 15 minutes of our search, we finally found the small Italian section of the Supersol, which included the sought-after gnocchi. While comparing the various brands the Supersol had to offer, a short, funny lady approached us and starting asking about the relative merits of...gnocchi. "Is that any good?" she asked (in Hebrew, of course). "Definitely. It's very tasty," I responded. What followed was a five minute conversation about how she had heard that gnocchi was good, but never tried it, and was excited to find someone who backed up the claim that it was good, even though that someone was some random guy (me) at the Supersol in Kanyon Haifa. After this small talk, as she was walking away, Danial turned to me and asked me something in English.
"Wait---are you two from outside of Israel?" she asked (the term she used was "Chool", which is an acronymn all Israelis use for countries that are not Israel, meaning "outside of the land"). I replied that, yes, we were both from the States. Daniel, looking somewhat insulted, butted in that he was not, in fact, from the states, but from Canada. As if it mattered.
She then went on to tell us that she had been to Boston for work. I told her I was in Boston for University, but that I was actually for Indiana. We were starting to part ways, when she started saying something about how she also had family in Boston: the Suissa Family.
I stared at her for a second, a bit weirded out by the comment, and asked her if she knew Paz Suissa. "Paz Suissa! That is my niece!" she screamed. Now, it should come to no one as a revelation that Jewish people LOVE playing "Jewish Geography"---the game where we find out if you know the people that I know from a certain place. Why we, as a People, enjoy this game so much is somewhat obvious: the feeling of discovering that the world is full of connections we are not aware of, and that it is much smaller than we sometimes think it is is somewhat satisfying. Either way, it may surprise some people to know that Israelis, more than other Jewish people, have an almost perverse pleasure in this game, and Paz's aunt (Vivian?) was no exception. She nearly acted as if she had just discovered a long lost brother in me.
"Paz Suissa dated my brother," I explained to her. "To tell the truth, I don't think they are dating any longer." This didn't really seem to faze her. She insisted that I write down my name, my brother's name, and my phone number (to come over to her house for some future meal, which she promised, looking at my Kippah, would be kosher).
So much for crazy story number one.
The next day, after hours of toiling away at my physiology textbook in the library, I emerged from the "Faculta" (the strange word they use for the med school building) around 8 pm to go my weekly basketball game at the Technion main campus. As I was leaving the building, about 50 yards away I saw a couple walking towards the Meyer Children's Hospital that is next door to the medical school. Something about them---I'm really not sure what---reminded me of my 8th Grade teacher and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Edelstien. I called out his name ("Mr. Edelstien!"), and he spun around to find out who it was that was calling his name.
I'm not sure if he was more surprised to find me studying in Haifa, or that I was able to recognize him from so far away. Either way, him and his wife then went on a tirade, chastising me for not getting in contact with them sooner. I apologized profusely, and they invited me over for Shabbat (where I will be going to shortly).
That's crazy story number 2.
The third strange occurrence this week was at a party celebrating the release of my friend and former next-door-neighbor (in Indiana), Danny Farahan (ben David, as he now adds), from the Israeli Army. Having done 2.5 years of service in the IDF, he is now planning on doing some traveling, including hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Either way, as we met up at Mike's Place in Tel Aviv, I was sitting talking to his former roommates from Hebrew University, when they asked me what I was doing in Israel. "Oh, I'm studying medicine at the Technion." "Really? Hey, Ben, don't we know someone who is studying medicine at the Technion?" "Hey---isn't Sherman there?"
"Do you mean Michael Sherman?" I asked. "YEAH! Hey---do you know Sherman?" "Yes, I know Sherman. He's my roommate. How do you guys know him?" "No F**King way! Michael Sherman was OUR roommate at Hebrew University four years ago.....Hey Danny, guess who Michael here is living with?" "Who?" "Michael Sherman!"
So it ends up that Michael Sherman has lived with both me and Danny Farahan, and never made the connection. When I asked him about it, he looked confused and said, "Wait---Danny Farahan is from Indiana?"
So, yeah, this week has been pretty crazy. There's also been some studying of medicine in there as well. Classes are actually going pretty well so far. I'm taking Physiology, Histology, Endocrinology, Anatomy II, Biochemistry II, First Aid, Genetics, and Hebrew this term. It's going to be a tough semester, but I am enjoying the classes. Also, last night I attended Shmuel (Sam) Korb's second (and hopefully final) Tekes (or graduation) from his Officer's Course on the Navy Base. (Picture of me, Shmuel, and two of the Gershons, after the Tekes):
Unfortunately, this week has ended with the terrorist attack on the Merkaz HaRav Kook Yeshiva in Jerusalem---G-d should console all of the families of those who lost sons, grandsons, and brothers under the gates of Zion and Jerusalem. My angry response below was (clearly) a bit emotional, but I stand by it. My only correction to it is the claim that horrible events like these bring the Jewish people closer together. Unfortunately, I feel that an event such as this one---targeting the sector of the population that already feels that too much security has been compromised in the name of a delusional peace process---will only lead to further harmed relations between the various sectors of the Israeli Jewish population.
I also realize that I haven't really written since my trip to the States. I want to thank everyone who came to my parties (in Indianapolis and NYC). It was great to see everyone, and I hope to be back soon to visit.
I need to go get ready for Shabbat. I wish everyone a Shabbat Shalom.
Michael
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