The weekend we survived The Flood

On Thursday we had a pretty standard ivrit class followed by Chavura before hopping on the bus and heading to a secular yeshiva to learn about what, how and why they do the things they do. That evening we made a last minute to go to Ashkelon in the evening instead of the next morning so dashed around packing and eating before heading off to meet Aaron at the central bus station. After a ninety minute bus ride and some convoluted bargaining with two different cab drivers at the other end, the five of us arrived at Raya's Ashkelon apartment for two.

The next day we awoke to sunshine streaming in through to windows so we gobbled down some of the cheerios and milk we'd bought the night before and headed down to the beach to chill in the sun (and so Aaron could dig a big hole). We headed home by about four so we could shower and change in time to walk to the conservative synagogue nearby that Raya's husband is the rabbi of. Outside the synagogue we were met by an Israeli guy on his Shnat Shirut who introduced us to his fellow shinshins and invited us to meet up with them later. The service was interesting, if a little bizarre considering we hadn't quite realised conservative synagogues repeat the kaddish around seven times (no exaggeration) in a variety of different tunes. We returned home after shul to eat our shabbat dinner of pizza and ice cream only to find a strange man with his ear pressed to our door. He hurriedly ushered us over and indicated for us to open the door with some urgency. Lizzie happened to be the keeper of the key as it were so we all waited frantically while she got off the phone and rummaged around before finally producing the key and opening the door. What we saw when we stepped into the flat was something that can only be described as something out of a movie. One of what I am pretty sure is currently the worst moments of my life was setting eyes upon the waterfall that had once been a bathroom. Not only was there surely going to be extensive damage, but we had absolutely no idea how to stop the ongoing cascade of water. Luckily Mr Russian Man who spoke absolutely no English from not one but two floors down (who'd come upstairs upon the water having leaked down two entire levels of the building) found the source of the waterfall (a burst pipe attached to the boiler in the ceiling) and managed to turn the water off at the mains. According to mother the very first question one should ask when staying in someone elses house is how to turn the water off in case of an emergency but in actual fact mother dearest, Raya didn't have a clue!. After that drama nobody had the energy to go out so we ate out pizza in rather subdued silence and decided on a chilled night in.

Saturday was originally intended as a exploring day, until we realised there really wasn't much to explore in Ashkelon, so off we toddled to the beach again, until returning home to clean up and head for the bus station and back to Jerusalem. The cute thing about Shnat is that if you go away for the weekend and don't see people, everyone feels like they haven't seen each other in ages and missed a major part of your life so there are lots of little catch ups going on every Saturday night. This is of course largely due to the fact that most of the time we are with each other twenty-four/seven so it's rare to have done something that people don't already know about.

Sunday began with Hadracha (with Colin), Ivrit and Chavura. Following this we had our very first 'Open House' afternoon which consists of a selection of speakers and sessions of which you chose to attend two. The first I went to was a session on 'Playback Theatre' which was an intense and quite emotional experience of sharing experiences, leaving me with a raw and vulnerable feeling at the end (in a good way). My second session was vastly less interestng on Israeli Identity and Liberal Judaism which was a less interesting version of a conversation I recently had with Dad about the need of greater exposure of progressive Judaism to secular Israelis. The evening peula was a massive activity with Machon Amlat (South American Machon) which was somewhat of a disaster as to be expected with two hundred seventeen to nineteen year-olds who speak different languages participating in a peula in central Jerusalem at night together.

This morning began with Israel Update with Josh which was, as usual, fantastic. I feel like I learn and understand so much from each session and not only that but I retain the information from session to session. Hebrew and Judaism were both pretty standard and if I'm honest, boring. Hadracha with Colin was split into two sessions, the second was peer led hadracha practise which we will all have to do eventually but the first session was fascinating. It was a ninety minute role play with half the group participating and half observing. It was bizarre and fascinating to analyse afterwards.

That's all for now, I'm trying not to leave each entry for quite as long as I did last time.

S x

Side note: I want to add here a little paragraph I had to write in my very first Israel and Zionism class which was on the 23^rd February but I forgot to put it in earlier.

What does Israel mean to me?

A home? A connection? An escape? A place to feel both more and less accepted that I do at home. Somewhere I have both a responsibility and a duty to which sometimes I love and sometimes I hate. Somewhere that confuses me. Somewhere that throws all my thoughts upside down and inside out. Somewhere that makes me both comfortable and uncomfortable, hopeful and hopeless, happy and sad and most of all conflicted.