Freedom, Astroturf and Germans

After class this past Friday, I dropped my books off in Doreen's room, and went to a café to read a book.  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?  I dropped my books off in a friend's room and read a book.  I did no homework.  And I even procrastinated a bit on Saturday.  And I went out to a bar on a school night (Okay, I ordered lemonade.  But it was made from real lemons, and if you ask me it was pretty hard stuff.).  See how far I've come?

Saturday morning was pleasant and sunny (jealous that I get to say that?), and my friend and I decided that it would be the perfect day to begin our bi- or tri-weekly gym excursions.  Little did we know, however, that while the gym itself is open on Saturday mornings, the building in which the gym resides is locked.  One can only gain access to it by dialing the number of the workout room--which can only be obtained in the workout room.  Given that neither Abby nor I had previous knowledge of this procedure, we tried to find an open door to some building on campus that would eventually lead us to the gym (which was at this point of questionable existence), to no avail.  Luckily, the alternative was not half-bad: outside one of the academic buildings is a big square of artificial grass that overlooks the entirety of Haifa and a good chunk of the Mediterranean (remember, the University of Haifa lies at the top of Mount Carmel), and the two of us decided to take off our shoes, stretch, and exercise on the "grass."  The area was people-less, the view superb; it was the most beautiful workout I've ever had (you can catch our photoshoot on Facebook).

After a pretty quiet day of a shower, hummus, some Vampire Diaries (I'm re-addicted--I know it's a bad show but I can't help it!) and some ulpan homework, I went with a group of international students (all American, actually, but from the International School like me) to the German Colony for dinner, and then to a bar in another area of Haifa (I forget if it's Merkaz Hakarmel or Chorev).  Dinner was a mixed experience: we went to an Arabic restaurant called Fattoush, and while the atmosphere was great--great music, outside seating, pleasant weather--I didn't die over my dish.  It was called the "Chalumi Salad," and while it sounded delectable (I really wanted to use that word--just like I really wanted to alliterate with "didn't die over my dish."  Sorry, guys.), I quickly discovered that the fried, mild cheese that's called Chalumi is not my cup o' tea, and that Fattoush missed the memo about salads needing lettuce.  There was really good tzatziki and pitah, though, so I filled up on that (not to worry, parents and grandparents).

Today, ulpan started an hour later as it will every Sunday of the month (which sounded exciting until we all realized that it was ending an hour later, too).  We started reading a story that I recognized as one that I'd read in tenth grade, and went over some exciting (I'm only being half sarcastic here) grammar rules.  Something that I've come to realize over my two and a half years of university study is that when it comes to Hebrew, Akiba really knew what it was doing.  I can't tell you how many times a college professor has assigned or referenced a poem or a short story that I already read in high school.  I haven't determined yet if that is a sign of Akiba's extremely high level of Hebrew education, or if it means that my university's program is somehow lacking; most signs point to the former, but I'm still not sure if that's a positive or a negative in terms of my overall Hebrew education.

Phone call, then Israeli movie in the moadon (I'm already late for that)! 

Lilah tov everyon

Welcome to Mediterranea

While the plan was to take a bus-cab combo to the University, this morning Nurit managed to talk a passing cab driver into taking me from Herzeliya to Haifa for about the same price (so I was led to believe).

Now, the Mediterannean Sea is on my left, Israel is on my right, and a great playlist is in my ear: Dave Matthews, only the best of Glee, the one Ingrid Michaelson song that I know and like ("The Way I Am"), some Kings of Leon.  At this moment, I really appreciate what our Core teachers on Muss used to say to us on our weekly tiyulim--כדאי לנו to look out the window while we travel through this beautiful country!  Their rule about iPods, however, seems a bit misguided.  A soundtrack definitely enhances the viewing experience, the same way that it does in a movie or a play.  Imagine watching a series of pictures with no music playing behind them: the pictures might be lovely, but the music adds a whole new level of meaning, feelings and identification with the subject matter.  Just a theory.

This is my fourth time in Israel, but the view never gets old.

Or rather, it does get older, but in its age it only becomes more beautiful and awesome (not in the dude way--in the awe-inspiring way). 

We are driving up a hill--it's clear that we're headed towards the University, which stands on top of the Carmel Mountain--and I am ready to put down my iPod (where I'm taking notes for this blog) to follow my own advice about looking out the window, when the cab driver starts pointing out places in the area where the recent forest fire hit.  Huge patches of trees are brown and orange instead of green; there is a collection of burnt buildings, which I believe represents one of the first (or maybe the first) neighborhoods to get hit; flowers and signs lie on the side of the road next to where the bus full of jailers-in-training was burned to the ground.  The place deserves my full attention, and after a final note the iPod is put down.

I moved in to my room yesterday (no need to go into detail about that; just know that I have no hangers yet but that I DO have my own bathroom), and have been trying to familiarize myself with the campus since then.  Between yesterday and today I bought a few food- and home-related necessities (Cheerios, PB&J, a Lysol equivalent for the bathroom, pasta (because we all know that's one of the only things I can make--so far!), tuna (protein), coffee...), met a bunch of people, went to a bar as part of orientation (yes, it was school-organized), ate falafel (SO much better than American falafel--I don't understand how 90% of American falafel places mess up their falafels!  Rami's excluded.  He at least knows how to use his chick peas), took an oral ulpan "test," played a few funny but personal space-invading ice breaker games (what better way to get to know someone than to GET TO KNOW someone), and met 2 of my 4 suitemates (both very nice; both from a rather different cultural pool than the one from which I hail).

That was 2 days in one run-on sentence.  Not bad, if you ask me.

Tomorrow is the first real day of ulpan, so I'm going to try to get to bed before midnight, if possible.  I think I was placed in the highest level--good, I hope, for my Hebrew, but with the downside that it's a small class and I won't meet as many people.  I guess I'll have to find other ways!

Lila tov, all of you who had the patience to read through all of this :)

Sunrise Over Tel Aviv

Day one in Israel.
Not sure exactly how I feel yet, but the sunrise over the Mediterranean Sea, above the cloudline, was breathtaking.  That's two sunrises I've seen in one week (also my first two sunrises ever).  Got to be a record.
I ran around to the different Hutt cousins' houses this morning, wishing happy birthday to one (Daphi) before her birthday weekend getaway, dropping my suitcases off at another's (Tami's), and now I'm settled in at Nurit's (Mama Hutt) for the afternoon.  There's not much to do yet; I finished my book, checked my email, updated my Facebook status, and I think it should be lunchtime soon.  It's all I can do not to fall asleep--I've barely slept in the last few days (how many days, I can't really tell; the time difference is mighty confusing).
When I think about the months ahead, part of me wants to curl into a ball and dream myself back to Philadelphia.  I won't, obviously.  Not only is that impossible (The Wizard of Oz is wildly deceiving in that regard), but in spite of my current--predictable--anxieties, I know that good things are ahead.  I just need to get there.
The amount of Hebrew here is simultaneously exhilarating and paralyzing.  I love it--but it's scary being in a country by myself (relatively speaking--no pun in intended (ha)) that functions almost entirely in a language that's not my own.  I feel like I can kind of get lost here.  I won't, I know I'll manage--Mom, you can breathe now--but it'll take some getting used to.
Things I'm quickly learning/recalling:
1. Only in America can I get away with saying "Oy" to good news (e.g. "Oy, that's awesome!" "Oy, what a cute baby!").  Here, that's a jarring and mystifying oxymoron.
2. The big meal here is lunch.  I TOTALLY forgot about that and was not physically or mentally prepared to eat the feast Nurit had set out about an hour ago.  She said if I didn't eat it the last bits she'd toss the remainders, and I, being the good soul that I am, could not let those starving children in Africa down.  So I ate beyond my body's natural capacity, and now feel rather uncomfortable.  It's okay, though: it was all for the children in nearer-by Africa.
3. A "kaspomat" is actually a "kasfomat."  Go figure.
Going to a business party (or something?) tonight with the cousins instead of sleeping.  I might fall asleep on the dance floor.
Lehittt

P.S. I wrote different parts of this post at different times throughout the day, so if it seems chronologically off, you're not crazy (and neither am I).

Here we go...

Blog naming is a lot more trouble than people let on, but now that the damage has been done, I hope (for your sakes and mine) that it will prove to have been worth it.  

Six days till takeoff.

Items left to buy: several.

Bags left to pack: 2 (all).

People left to see: to tell you the truth, I can't remember them all.

Other things left to do: probably a million.

Some days I'm excited for this trip; other days I'm more nervous than anything else.  I'm excited for the language, the adventure, the feeling of freedom that Waltham has so often denied me, the new people I hope to meet.  I'm nervous for the language, the adventure, that feeling of freedom, the prospect of recreating my social life for the umpteenth time in recent years.  My perspective on these things changes with the hour; I just hope that when I step on that plane, a good hour will prevail and keep me sane, at least until I have a legitimate reason to worry.

For now, it's Target runs, the max number of American movies one can reasonably see in 6 days, goodbye visits, (sometimes) metaphorical pump-up music, and general mental prep.

I'm going abroadddd :)