Well, my bags are packed

Well, my bags are packed and I’m very ready to go.  Sitting in the airport in Philly I’ve spent more time waiting for planes than I have on them and I’m just ready to go in two hours!  I’ve got a phone number (but no phone yet) and I’ve got directions to Aunt Shirah’s house upon arrival, and I have a bag just barely under 50 pounds and two more carry ons… you can never take too many clothes, right?  Cause that’s literally all I packed.  Clothes and a hair straightener and nail polish but no toiletries and some awesome books that I’m super excited to read on the plane over (I crashed before we even took off on the plane to Philly so let’s hope this one is a little more productive).  I realized I left all my photos at home which is really frustrating because I’m such a photo person but worse things could have happened, like, at least I have my passport!  

Instead of going straight to Jerusalem to my apartment and meeting my 26 year old Israel roommate, David, I’m making a stop in Moshav Kfar Rut, a second home for me in Israel.  A Moshav is a small community neighborhood in Israel and my aunt and uncle were founding families on this one, and my aunt has decided to take me to a Kurdish pre-wedding Henna party on the Moshav.  I figure that will be a great introduction to my six weeks here, some nice time with aunt Shirah, and a fun blog post, if nothing else.  Let’s hope that goes smoothly and the bride-to-be allows me to get some cool Henna done and take some photos.  Maybe I'll do something on my foot to match cousin Mikki's real tattoo!  

--picture of the last time I got Henna would be here if the internet at the airport was not so awful--

I’ve applied to a trip to the West Bank, I’m in the planning stages of a trip to Petra, and on Friday morning I gotta wake up early and get on my feet to meet up with the Columbia Fellowship in Israel I’m a part of even though I missed their first two events.  Things are looking good, adventures are ready to be had, I’ll be seeing solider bro Jonah when he’s off from the army in a week, and I’m starting to hear kids in Terminal A scream “Ima Ima” so I know I’m in the right place.

Stay in touch, friends and family!  L'hitraot (see you later)!

A day of firsts

One of the major perks of reading my blog, besides of course me being able to track the location of readers which is really cool (shoutout to Mia who is upping my Spain followership), is that you get to help me cross things off the list and that seems to always be an adventure.  Take my great friend since 10th grade, JCoop, who texted me on his own volition offering to give blood with me.  That was awesome especially because plans to do it earlier that week had fallen through and Josh (JCoop, JE(pd), etc) and I decided that Thursday would work best for us.


Jcoop being the responsible young man he is (Rosh Edah at Ramah Nyack status type responsibility that has nothing to do with the fact that is mom is the director.  No really, it doesn't he's just that awesome!) looks up where we can give blood and in NYC on Thursday and who would have guessed that Thursday seems to be the official holiday for blood banks in Manhattan?  Don't believe us?  Check out the NY Blood Center Donation Location website in which there is one single place listed in Manhattan open on Thursdays.  Check it out even if you do believe me so you can schedule your next appointment....


Josh and I meet up after my morning class and headed on over to the Blood Center on the East side.  He explained to me the process as I am clearly starting to freak out...but anything for the blog, right?  Right.  To make me more excited he tells me that at the end they give you cool color bandages to wear and we decide that he wants purple and I want green.  We arrive, I fill out a bunch of questions, the lady tells me that my "boo has given before so he's gonna head in and I have to wait a while," adding some comic relief to the already bizarre questions like have I had sex in some foreign countries during specific years I wasn't even born yet with men who may have served in the army.  Finally after agreeing that my not-so-new-nose ring was pierced with a clean needle I head in near Josh and lay down.  Anxious.  Nervous.  And wishing someone would hold my hand.


The whole process begins and I'm fine.  I'm actually great, kind of just chill, thinking what a mitzvah (good deed) I'm doing and how I could be saving a life.  I think it's really cool that my blood is so easily pumping into the bag and I wonder if I was living in The Vampire Diaries or Buffy if Damon, Stefan, or Angel would want to steal my blood... that is if they were drinking human blood this episode or not. It also occurs to me that I don't know my blood type and just as I'm pondering the possible combinations of letters I start to feel faint.  Fast.  And then I'm sweating profusely and calling out that I don't feel so well.  The woman comes over and says I had just finished giving blood which was good because I was very persistent that I needed to fill an entire pint, and she put ice packs all around me and gave me paper towels to help cool and calm me down.  It was quite a humorous sight- I asked Josh to take a picture but he didn't.  Also amid all the chaos of the almost fainting we didn't get to choose our colors and neither of us got purple nor green.  We both got blue instead.

Josh and I at the NY Blood Center with our blue bandages! 

Josh and I recovered with apple juice, grabbed some lunch to go, and said our goodbyes for the summer.  This should have been the end of the blog post, but of course finding the only blood center in Manhattan open on Thursdays, almost fainting, and not getting our color bandages of choice is just not adventurous enough for the blog.  On the 2 subway home alone I started feeling not so great…to the point that I was not positive that I was going to make it out of the subway at 92^nd street.  Luckily I made it out, stumbled outside, and sat down on a bench right outside the station.  I was really lucky and saw a friend who was entering the subway who stayed with me for a few minutes while I ate some yogurt, and ended up taking a cab the rest of the way home.  I know, lame for a New Yorker, but for a girl who almost fainted on the subway I thought it was acceptable. 

So thus ended my first near-fainting experience and adventure for the sake of the blog.  Many many thanks to Josh for insisting that we go together, and to Tyler and Nat for making sure I was feeling well later that evening!  On the bright side, I accomplished two firsts- giving blood and almost fainting!  I highly recommend the former and to eat lots in the morning to prevent the latter.  

This past week I missed the Pride parade in Tel Aviv and moved out of NYC the day before the one here.  So I've gotta think of something new that I can accomplish by September... let me know if you have any suggestions!    

Rain Boots

Two days in a row of rain in NYC and I'm ready for some weather change.  Don't get me wrong, I love the rain.  I love dancing in the rain, I love the rainbows that come after the rain, I love being stuck inside a basement during a tornado-watch with 60 campers and 4 staff members having to hide from them the fact that all of their luggage and clothing we promised would be stored safely got moldy over the summer in the rain, and I love dressing for the rain.  A staple in my summer wardrobe has always been rain boots.  You simply cannot survive 2 months in Palmer, MA (one of the best places on earth) without them.  Rain boots make me feel invincible, like nothing can or will stop me from splashing through any puddle I choose.  And this summer as I prepare for my first in 17 years (except for that one summer I spent in the Barnard Pre-College Program, shoutout to Mira who's going in 2 weeks!) that I won't be at Camp Ramah in New England, I realized that I just may not need to buy new rain boots.

N11V Staff Prepares for a Rainy Shabbat

My anxiety about not going back to camp this summer is at an all time high.  I've never lived in an apartment with a 26-year-old Israeli guy before.  I've never commuted to school, had to re-learn a language, been nervous about making friends (especially now that a good friend tells me that he really doesn't get to go out while staffing a Pilgrimage tour group in the summer like I thought he did), and I've never packed for the summer in a mere suitcase and a carry-on.  The rain brings back so many memories at camp- hours of staying up late with bestfriends, even more hours on staff planing programs making those friendships strengthen beyond bunk-mates into respect as programmers and educators.  Packing ridiculous clothes for activities (will I need multi-colored leggings in Israel?!), making Kimah (wake up) and Nikayon (cleaning time) playlists, having heartfelt conversations with 16 year olds some of who will be at my wedding some day, and passing out at night knowing that I made a girl more confident, a boy try something different, a group of people connect to Judaism in a new way.

Most of all, as the rain drops tap on my window, is the fear that comes with the knowledge that camp goes on without me.  That kids will be having amazing summers, my co counselors will become someone else's cos, and my Rosh Edah who has guided me for two years and become a real friend will develop meaningful relationships with other staff members, even more meaningful than ours.  That life continues and I won't be there to be part of that magical place that builds confidence, inspires Judaism, and creates everlasting friendships.  A rain-less summer in Israel means a camp-less summer for me.  And who isn't just a little afraid of the great outdoors?  I know I am.

I walked home from meeting Maya in the 70s where I picked up the keys to the apartment in Jerusalem I will be sub-letting from her, feet splashing through the puddles with nothing but flip-flops to protect them.  I am excited to say that I won't need a pair of rain boots to bring to Israel this summer.  I will need something new to ground me for the adventures ahead, and new is oftentimes scary and uncomfortable.  New takes familiarity and changes it into memory.  But that shift opens up room for a different thing to become familiar, and who says that I can't do anything to make it less uncomfortable?  There are no puddles in the hot desert summer for me to wear rain boots, they just don't fit into this summer.  Perhaps a new pair of sneakers to help support me through walking around cities, foreign and familiar, is just the type of footing I need.  They can guide me to invincibility in a new way, hiking mountains and walking through crowded streets like a real Yerushalmi (person who lives in Jerusalem).  My summers of rain boots are being placed aside, and you all know it's never easy to put something in a closet for a season.  But with new kicks I am beginning to prepare for something different and follow my feet to a new type of experience.  And who knows, those rain boots don't have to stay in the closet forever....

My Achilles Heel

Sometimes things just don't go as you plan.  Like remember last week when I said I was going to do Zumba every day?  It worked for a good 11 days, and then I had one of the most intense and fun Zumba classes ever. There was punching and booty shaking and shimmying and crunching and even some jiving which brought me back to my ballroom dancing days.  But do you know what got me?  The good ole spin-and-jump-into-a-dance-combo move.  I was so into this spinning and jumping that I somehow managed to twist around myself.  Not the sexy kind of twisting, and not the twist-and-shout kind of twisting, but in a way I'm pretty confident I've never done before which caused me to fall to the floor.  I quickly picked myself up and continued to Zumba, but I was definitely in pain.  My ankle really hurt but I was having so much fun that I did not want to stop.  The 15 block walk home was okay but at Shabbat dinner that night I told David and Sarah (who are both making their second appearances in the blog today!) that I really hurt myself.  David suggested that I not do Zumba the next day, but it was Street-Zumba which is hip hop style, so how could I not?  Bad idea.  I barely made it through and almost left 3 times but after pushing through the class (taught by an awesome fellow Columbia senior) I went and got myself two ace-bandages.  My enthusiasm for Zumba and dedication to this goal led to my (present but not ultimate) downfall... literally my own Achilles Heel.

First lesson learned: should have listened to David and not have gone to Zumba that day.
Second lesson learned: should not have subsequently walked the 42 blocks and some avenues that night to a friend's going away party when I easily could have waited until after Shabbat and take the Subway.  I think that it may be a combination of those two things that I'm still not back on my regular Zumba schedule.
My ankle has gone in and out so to make up for my lack of cardio I've been trying to stretch a little more at home and just walk around the city.  Sadly today does not mark the 17th day in a row of Zumba, but it does mark some other good things....

There is life, quite literally, outside my 21 by 21 list!  Today marks my newest nephew, Shaya Amicahi's, 10th day of life!  He is perfect in every way and at the bris I was able to see almost all my siblings and all of my nieces and nephews (I have 5 total now!) which just made for a lovely day with the family and the most adorable babies.  I also activated my dad's iphone which was an adventure in itself- did you know you need an earring or something of the like to get the sim card out of an iphone?  How is that logical?  But more stories about that to come later....

Me and Shaya Amichai 8 days old

Zumba or no Zumba, progress is possible!  I have seen progress in both my splits (small progress so please continue to revel in the pictures of previous post) and in my weight loss!  At first I did not think it was noticeable but I ran into a girl in my class on the street the other day and she told me that I looked like I lost weight, so I decided it was time to check the scale... and I had!  6 pounds since I began this journey of mine!  After realizing just how much pain my ankle was in, that was an incredible discovery and just the motivation I needed to get me through the rest of the week.

Maybe not the witty or entertaining post you were expecting, but relevant nonetheless to the trials and triumphs of getting through this 21 by 21 list.  If anyone knows when or where I can donate blood and wants to come with me let me know...!