Sometimes the best way to tell if you are having an exciting trip is by counting the number of times you say, “Ok, things could be worse.” This sounds a little pessimistic but I don’t mean it to be. Sunday afternoon I left Tel Aviv, the beach, the night life (bars and clubs), and the couch in Sarah’s apartment for Jerusalem, the Kotel, the night life (…in the old city? Not so much… maybe getting lost in the Muslim Quarter…? yea there’s a story to go with this), and the Heritage Hostel—a free place to sleep as long as you don’t mind the constant encouragement to increase your Judaism. SO. Where do I begin? How about Saturday?

Saturday, Shabbat, I rested. Then I went to the beach to rest some more. Tel Aviv is a funny place to observe Shabbat mainly because it seems like no one does. I don’t pretend to have my religious stuff all figured out, but it was pretty weird to not do or see anyone else do ANYTHING for Shabbat. I have a feeling Jerusalem will fill that need come next week. Saturday night, Sarah, Talya and I took a sheirut (BIG taxi that goes city to city) to Jerusalem to meet up with some friends who are in Israel with the UWashington Birthright Trip. Sarah Lawson, a friend who’s worked at the UW Hillel for the last two years, is leading the trip with my friend Judah who I met when I worked at Ramah Poconos. Always a small world. Shirah Rosin, another close friend who’s been in Israel all year studying at Pardes and working, also joined us even though she had to be up early the next morning ☺ Ilya Golovaty, my old roommate, is on the trip along with a bunch of other friends from school—it was really really nice to spend some time catching up and swapping stories.

After the Birthright group left, we met up with more friends from random places. The Edelstein family - Jason (who I’ve been hearing about for the last three years, he went to UW, and FINALLY met), Nathaniel (who I met at Hebrew U when I visited Andrea K, Tamara, Andrea S, Talya, and Shauna in December), and Ruthie (who is a good friend of Jody’s that I met randomly at UW and then again in Israel AND is enrolled in the same Hebrew U program as me for the next month), my friend Adam Levine who I know from CSS days… 3rd grade?, and then Aaron Taylor from Spokane who was randomly with my friend Elana Beale! All in all, LOTS of people, LOTS of different connections—a great night!

That brings me to Sunday. OHHHHH Sunday. What a day. First, I met up with Shira Rand-Lakritz who came down from Kfar Vradim to visit and we spent the majority of the early-afternoon braving the heat and chatting. Sidenote: those guys who are selling the little slushies are making a KILLING in this weather—I bought two within a half-hour and probably could have used more… Anyway, Shira and I went through the Tel Aviv shuk, I bought sunglasses so I don’t have to squint anymore. Niiiiiiiiice.

Later, Shira met up with other friends and I went back to Sarah’s to pack and go to Jerusalem. It took me a while to get my stuff together but it worked out and I only had to pay about $15 to get from Sarah’s apartment to Jerusalem (an hour’s drive away). Not bad. Grabbed a quick bite and then took a monit (taxi) to the hostel where I am staying. I got a tip from a friend about the Heritage Hostel—she said, it’s free and close to the Kotel (the western wall). Basically the only people who live around the Kotel are super religious or studying in yeshiva on their way to being super religious, so I probably should have put 1 and 1 together quicker than I did. The Heritage Hostel welcomed me with open arms—seriously, the guy hugged me. Then he proceeded to ask me for every piece of info that he could think of, we’re talking favorite ice cream, what I want to do with my life, how many kids, how I feel about Judaism—the whole shebang. Don’t worry Mom and Dad, I told him we were in the midst of moving and didn’t have an address or telephone number…

After the interrogation, I received sheets, a towel, and an “I hope you’ll join us for study in the morning—but only if you’d like to.” Yea. Thanks David. So the hostel locks its doors at midnight and it was only 9:30 so I headed out to explore. I have a great sense of direction and can usually figure out where I am without a problem. But Jerusalem’s neighborhoods are weird. Every road turns into another road even when you haven’t turned, there are almost no straight paths and the hills mean nothing—you walk UP to get the store and somehow you’re walking UP when you leave…even though you’re going the opposite direction…this makes no sense. Well, couple that with talking on the phone with Mom and you get Avi walking NOT towards the Kotel like he thought, but into the Temple Mount/Dome of the Rock. For the uninitiated—you can’t just do that…which a policeman told me very nicely. And by nicely I mean without shooting me.

So I made it to the Kotel. It is another beautiful night (maybe you should assume that every night is beautiful from now on unless I say otherwise? …still batting 1.000) and I sat out by the Kotel for probably just over an hour. Even though I wasn’t praying or even standing at the wall, it was nice and very relaxing. Also got me thinking about something a friend of mine said, “If Judaism teaches that G-d is everywhere, why is it more holy to pray at a wall than anywhere else?” Hmmmmmmm. While I could debate this for a while, my short answer is that Judaism puts a lot of emphasis on our people’s shared history and the Kotel is the most physical memory of the holiest place in our history. Of course, I think the holiest moments in my life have come in other places… so what does that mean? Clearly, there’s more to talk about later.

Around 11pm I decided to go back to the hostel. I left the area by the Kotel the same way I entered (which was a new path for me) and went up the stairs, past a sign that said Police in Hebrew… and then a bunch of signs in Arabic. So I got a little confused because the Old City part of Jerusalem is split up into different quarters: The Jewish Quarter, Muslim Quarter, Armenian Quarter, and Christian Quarter. Generally, albeit sadly, most people stay in “their” quarter. When I saw the Arabic I assumed I was in the Muslim Quarter, so I turned around and went back the other direction—makes sense, right? Well, I don’t think I looked lost, even though I was, but a boy probably about twelve or thirteen comes up to me and asks in Arabic if I’m Muslim and needed help. I know a little bit of Arabic so I answered him with everything I had, “Why? …I will only pay 10 shekels for that fake jewelry!” (that’s pretty much the end of my Arabic). He then gave me very detailed directions on how to get to the Dome of the Rock. Nice? Absolutely. Helpful? Not really. So I turned around and headed back the other direction—or so I thought—I told you, those streets are TRICKY! The next path lead me past what looked like an old synagogue…except it had a big X over the Hebrew…that didn’t seem to fit in with what normally happens in the Jewish Quarter, so I turned around again. After walking through dark streets, watching children chase after rats (seriously, this happened at least 3x during the evening), and getting weird looks from the random men in the street every time I would switch back and go the other direction in hopes of finding the Jewish Quarter and my hostel… I finally asked for help.

Yes, yes, I know. This was a big step for me. I figured, I’m in a foreign country, I might as well try a foreign strategy—dependence on others. Yea. Well, turns out that the route I initially took WAS the correct direction, I just forgot to turn left down a specific road. To conclude this long long LONG story, I finally got back to the Hostel (in time to hear people discussing the meaning of life and G-d’s role versus human’s role) and get out this post before heading to bed.

I hope you all are doing well and I’ll work on shortening these blog entries,

Lila tov,

AVI