Zeho l'Beer Sheva v'hakol sham

The title of this blog translates to "That's it for Beer Sheva and everything there." I actually did manage to move out my five boxes (all packed with newly accumulated things from Israel), guitar, and two huge bags down the stairs, out the door, and down the other set of stairs without a hitch. All of my things are currently sitting on a truck somewhere in Jerusalem. I actually had to write down what I had, so when I have to bring it to Tel Aviv on Monday, I won't forget anything. True Tami form. I finished teaching my kids at the high school on Tuesday. Michael also left on Thursday. That about brings my life in Beer Sheva to a close for now. The closing events at the Merkaz were lovely. We had a party for those of us that volunteered in the high schools, which featured a nice discussion about what we learned, lots of pizza, and a showing of a really cool Israeli movie called (A name I can't remember) goes to Jerusalem. We had a final party at the Merkaz with the staff that worked with us and food cooked for us by the Indian community that lives there. We had a little show for them, where some of us sang, danced, and others from the Merkaz performed something. I also have a really cool little henna design on my hand from the night too.
I said goodbye to Michael that night as well. Of course, it was really hard, but I think we both handled the situation as best we could. I am thinking about going to France over my break in December, but still contemplating if that is a good idea or not. Any advice?
On Wednesday, I packed up everything I owned and Thursday morning was putting it on the truck. After it was all loaded, I hopped on a bus to Tel Aviv to eat sushi with friends in a sort of recognition/celebration of my new single status and all of our new lives about to begin. To be honest, right now I feel really displaced and homeless. I am sitting at my host family's house right now, and starting to realize that I do not live in Beer Sheva anymore. I am not going to return there after Shabbat, as I have become accustom to doing. Forgive me if I repeat myself, but I'm not sure I ever really discussed what a day was like for me in Beer Sheva. Every morning, I would wake up at about 7:30AM to get ready for Ulpan classes at 8:15AM. I went to the first session of class starved, and when the first break came at 9:45, I would rush over to the bakery and grab a piece of chocolate rugalah and a little chocolate croissant. That always cost me 3 shekels. Right next to the bakery was the toast place, which is where I usually bought my coffee if I was getting something at the bakery. I would sit there during my break and talk to my friends, decompress about something, or read the newspaper. Michael and I used to sit there a lot too when he was taking Ulpan. At 10:15, or around there, I would return back to class for the next session. During the next part of class, I would contemplate what I wanted to eat for lunch, since two pieces of something chocolate and a coffee was never sufficient, but I loved it anyway. If I decided to cook myself, after class I would walk over to either the vegetable stand to pick up what I needed, or to the supermarket, or both. If I was just too lazy that day to make lunch (which was the case many times), I would walk back to the toast place and order either a toast on a bagel or a baguette. This is probably one of my favorite meals in Israel. So good. This routine happened about every day. On Thursdays, I would try to get up early and go to a different coffee stand run by this adorable French couple. Their coffee came from a machine, but tasted so good, and I was able to buy English newspapers there for the bus ride. I went to this stand a lot too when I wanted to just grab a quick cappuccino to go. I really am going to miss them. So, after I ate lunch, I would either decide to sleep because I did not sleep well the night before, or I would go volunteer at either the high school, or coach latet. Truth be told, I also went to the mall to "study," and after reward myself with something new. I won't have as much time to do that this track, so hopefully I got it out of my system. After my afternoons were finished, my friends and I would either go back to sit at the coffee shop, or head out to one of the many bars in Beer Sheva. Beer Sheva gets a bad wrap, but when school is back in session and you are my age, it is a pretty fun place to be. If I had to choose a favorite bar, Pablo would be the one. I liked it because it played some fun music, and served great beer with beer quotes all over the bar. My dad's kind of place. So, that is it for Beer Sheva. I'm going to miss it, and it certainly will be a big adjustment, but now is the time to start the process.
I know I have been so focused on other things that I forgot to tell you that I was asked by the director of Otzma to give a little speech to a group at the Jewish Agency this coming Thursday. The theme is something like "Generation to Generation," and they are bringing someone who did an Israel program a while ago to speak, someone in the middle, and then me. I am feeling the pressure a bit, just because I want to give a real analysis of my life here and my purpose. I am extremely flattered that they asked me to speak, so I also do not want to disappoint those who believe in me. I am going to do a bit of brainstorming here, so if you have suggestions for me, please email me to let me know!
I know why I came here. I am trying to remember the moment in which I knew that I needed to be here in Israel now more than ever, but I'm not exactly sure that it was an exact point. Israel became more of a process for me. I recently had the realization that I think about Israel every day of my life, which is so much more than many Jews do in the US. Of course I think about Israel now, because I live here, but this was something that happened even before this program. Last year when I worked at AIPAC, my boss led me to believe that everything I did was in the name of Israel. Everything. Every way I spoke to a donor, checked my work, took a reservation, whatever, it all affected Israel. I'm not sure that I would consider every little thing I did as truly affecting Israel, but I understood his point. I was forced to consider the implications of a media that was so cruel and biased, countries with people whose sole mission is to terrorize and destroy everything and anyone here, pending disengagement which caused a huge rift in the country, and combating terror on a daily basis. On top of all the external challenges, this country still had to deal with a diminishing economy because of regular terrorist attacks and fear instilled into people here. As I sat in my desk, day in and day out, staring at the picture of Masada, being reminded of the Jews sacrifice at that spot to determine their own destiny to die as Jews, reading the news daily, it occured to me that I couldn't experience this from across the world. I had to be there. I had to see for myself how resilient the Israelis are through all this. I had to know and feel their determination to sustain a homeland that they are protecting, and yet belongs to all the Jews of the world. I had to taste Israeli culture, and experience life here as a normal person. I had to get off the tour bus, and get on to a different one to see what life really is like here in Israel. And I had to help. I had to be able to tell my children, when I have them, that didn't just write a check to help Israel, but I did something about it. I tried the best I could also to make this State what is should be. So I came. And now that I am here, my life has changed in startling ways.
I live in a real Jewish state. My week goes from Sunday to Thursday, and I experience Shabbat every week in some form. Whether experiencing Shabbat means I get frustrated because there are no buses and I want to go somewhere, or having a nice Shabbat meal with friends or my host family, I still live Shabbat every week I am here. The same applies to the chagim. I finally exist in a place that recognizes how I have always felt on the inside. On Yom Kippur, my family and I are not the only ones fasting and praying for forgiveness, but an entire State stops and does the same because we are the same people. The second week I arrived, I checked my email at a local hotel with a friend in Beer Sheva. A man approached us, dressed as a religious Jew, and started to ask in Hebrew if he could check his email. We had no idea what he was saying. In true Israeli form, he switched to English, since he was from Philadelphia after all, and informed us that he had just been kicked out of his home in Gush Katif and hasn't been able to check his email for a week. I was in shock. I felt like I had met a celebrity. I had watched the disengagement happen on tv in the States, and now I actually met someone to whom disengagement was his reality, not just a news story. I came to the realization that in Israel, history can smack you straight in the head when you least expect it. I met someone who went through one of the most painful, political processes Israel has suffered through, all because he wanted to check his email.
The face of an Israeli has changed for me. I lived in the Merkaz Klitah for 2 months where there were new Jewish olim from Russia, South America, India, and France. I know that in other Merkazeh Klitah there are Ethiopians. The face of an Israeli is no longer just someone who speaks really fast and can be quite pushy at times, but a person from anywhere in the world who has decided to make a life for himself here. At the high school where I taught English, each kid proved to me that they have such amazing potential to contributen to the State. The kids in my class are from all over the world, each with different backgrounds: from Morocco, Ethiopia, Argentina, India, Russia, Israel, and I am sure I am missing somewhere else. Together, these kids are the future of this State, all with a common destiny to serve after high school, and beyond that, potential that can reach the sky. I am extremely confident that if the kids in Israel are like the ones I was so fortunate to spend time with, our State is in good hands.
And finally, I have been exposed to some of the ugly parts of this State. After taking a tour of the periphery towns, I realized that this certainly is not Jewish Disneyland, and we still have lots of work to do. There are challenges to creating a State that protects and sustains the Jewish people, and does the same for the others that happened to be here when the State arose. Israel is still young. Israel knows that she has problems. The first step to alleviate a problem is to know it exists, so I hope we will start working more seriously to fix the problems at home. After that, I will truly feel as if we are living in the land of milk and honey and prospering as we were meant to when Theodore Herzl thought of this reality called Israel.